Jeez!

      I have been traveling with Mike on the East Coast, where we have come to meet each other's families. The first stop was at Mike's brother, Donald, and sister-in-law, Gail,'s house in Annapolis, where we met Mike's family and had a tour of Annapolis by boat. On Sunday, Mike and I went into Washington, DC, for breakfast with some of my family, then rejoined Gail, Don, and Mike's sister, Janet, in Gail and Don's apartment in DC.

      Mike's brother is Donald Kohn, the economist who was until recently vice-chair of the Federal Reserve. Now he serves as consultant for the Bank of England and other banking concerns around the world, including the government of Chile, where he was flying that evening for a conference with a panel of experts about the economic state of affairs of Chile. After he left for the airport, Gail, Janet, Mike, and I talked about wedding plans and were just about to leave for our dinner reservation when the phone rang. It was Don, calling from the airport. He had left his wallet at home. Could Gail bring it to him? He thought she would have time before the plane left.

      I gave Mike a nudge. No use chastising me for forgetting my passport (see the post on May 21, 2018] or losing my keys or doing any one of a number of similar things if even the vice chair of the Federal Reserve ….

      Gail grabbed Don's wallet off the kitchen counter, and the four of us hurried into her car. She was the driver, and though she thought she knew how to get to Dulles airport, I became navigator and called up Google Maps. When Don, waiting anxiously at the airport, called to find out where we were, Janet became the communicator. She told Don that Google said we would be there in 31 minutes. We hoped that would be in time.

      Don sounded a little puzzled but hung up. Shortly he called again, anxiety building, to find out where we were. We said we were just turning onto I-395. "What are you doing om I-395?" he asked, puzzlement mounting.

      "Google says that's the quickest way to get to Dulles," Gail answered from the driver's seat.

      Now Don gave what Gail refers to as the primal scream. "WHAT?! Not Dulles Airport! Reagan Airport!"

      I once saw a blue heron coming in for a landing in a pond in front of me. When he saw me, he made, mid-flight, the fastest turn-around I had ever seen in nature. Gail probably bettered him. Ignoring Siri's patient instructions, she changed wingbeat in an instant and headed in another direction, saying she thought she knew the way to Reagan Airport. Janet was telling Don we were on our way. I was asking Siri for directions to Reagan, in case they were needed. Janet told Don that Google said we were six minutes away. He said to meet him at arrivals, outside United Airlines.

      We drove smoothly to the terminal and pulled up at United Airlines arrivals, where we spotted Don, pacing the sidewalk. He rushed to the car as we drove to the curb. Gail handed the wallet to Mike, our hand-off guy. Don grabbed it, said, "Jeez," and dashed off.

       No "Thank you." No smile of relief. Just, "Jeez!" with a shake of his head.

      Gail, Janet, Mike, and I, with a successful mission behind us, had a good long laugh. Don called shortly to tell us he was at the gate and that the plane was just boarding. He sounded relieved and thanked us, now, for helping him.

       But I keep hearing that "Jeez!" Was that exasperated expression for us because we had been going to the wrong airport? ("Jeez! You almost blew it.") Or for himself for forgetting his wallet in the first place? ("Jeez!" How could I do such a thing?") That "Jeez!" is very familiar to me.