Made it back home yesterday after flying first to Chicago, changing planes and then riding a swift sardine can to Birmingham. Exhausted, I fell asleep once I hit the car after Rosey picked me up curbside, and was not awake long after I got home. I just collapsed.
Here's the weird thing: I was never groped. They never put their hands on me, nor was I run through the "naked machine." At Ronald Reagan, TSA paid particular attention to my diabetic shoes and said they needed "to remove the inserts." I objected, saying that they were specially constructed and if they did that they would destroy their utility. "Well, we've got to test them." "Non-destructive testing?" "Yes." So I found a chair halfway through the line and sat down while they took away my shoes and x-rayed them, sniffed them or let them be "mind-melded" by the little psychic midget woman from "Poltergeist," or whatever they do with shoes suspected of deadly intent. After ten minutes, I got my shoes back and hobbled on my way. Heaven knows how they would have reacted to my Darth Vader boot that I left at home for just that reason. My wound care doctor is going to to be upset with me next week, but it was a trade-off. I needed to be there. And I needed to get around while I was there.
Anyway, I want to apologize to those of you whom I promised to notify when I got home safely, and didn't. I'm sorry, but I just collapsed. I didn't have it left in me.
Now, having slept most of the night, let us "drink water and drive on."