Homeward Bound

Yet another Simon and Garfunkel song seems appropriate here, with certain word changes:

I’m sittin’ at the airport station, got a ticket for my destination, mmmm,
Suitcase and guitar are safely stowed
And I know soon it will be time to go–

Homeward bound, I wish I was, homeward bound,
Home with my thoughts escaping, home where my music’s playing,
Home, where my love lies waiting, silently for me…


The part about the guitar is a poetic fiction–ain’t no way I’m going to check any of my guitars without a $400 air travel case, which would be worth more than half the guitars I own. And then I’m not at the “airport station”:  I’m 35,000 feet up on Delta Flight 1125 from Atlanta to Dulles about 40 minutes out.

My bro Ron got me to the airport about 10:20 this morning, and I was through checking my bag and experiencing security by 10:30. I had time to get a sandwich, eat it and sit at the gate and read some until we started boarding about 11:50.  Hartsfield is a big honkin’ airport but Ron told me which way to go and my gate was on A Concourse so I didn’t have to ride the Love Train very far. (“The Love Train” is my name for the little concourse tram thingie that shuttles people between concourses, from the O’Jay’s song of the same name:

People all over the world (everybody)
Join hands (join)
Start a love train, love train
People all over the world (all the world, now)
Join hands (love ride)
Start a love train (love ride), love train

I heard  “Love Train” the other day and it sounds like as good an idea as the day it came out.  And yes, I do think music can change the world for the better.)


So I am “homeward bound.” I had a great trip and a wonderful visit with my brother and sister-in-law, but I am glad to be going back to where I live. The people and the places there make it where I belong.

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