leaving on a jet plane

Alexander leaves today for six weeks in LA.  He’s interning at Mark Gordon Productions.  He is so excited, and I’m excited for him.

He has found an apartment with a friend from school, right across from the UCLA campus.  Though it’s ridiculously expensive and they are sharing one room, he did it on his own.  The room has one bed, so they plan on borrowing an aerobed from either his cousin or aunt who live in LA.  Then his friend calls (the friend he is living with and who is already in the apartment) and I hear Alexander say, "Oh, that's great.  Yes, Take it.  See if you can find a TV that someone's thrown away too."

I jump in.  

"Take what?"  

"Daniel found a mattress that someone threw away."  

"Are you kidding?  DO. NOT. TAKE. IT.  It could have bed bugs.  You never take a mattress from the street."  

"No, someone in our apartment building threw it way."  

An apartment building filled with college kids.  Yes, this is so much better.  He calls Daniel back and tells him they'll borrow an aerobed and to forget the discarded mattress option.

I had hoped for a stress-free good-bye.

Last night I’d even suggested that we go out for breakfast this morning.  Before going to bed I remind Alexander to pack and be ready to leave, so this morning won’t be chaotic.  That doesn’t happen.

“I need suntan lotion.  Can you go out and get me some?”

I do.

"Do we have any new toothbrushes?  I need one."  

We do.

“I have no earbuds.  I wonder if I have time to go to the Apple Store and buy some?”  Is he kidding?  Of course he doesn’t have time. 

I find a brand new pair in an old iPhone 4S box and give them to him.

The phone rings.  People calling to say good-bye.  “I don’t have time to talk.  I’ll call them from the cab.”

“Hey, can you print out my boarding pass?  I forgot to do that.” 

Then he can't easily find the email with the boarding pass.  He finally does.  "Why is your computer so slow? This is taking so long to print."

“Do you have sheets and towels?” I ask.  “No, I’ll buy them there.  Are they cheap?”  I hand him two large bath towels and some sheets.

Finally it looks like he’s ready.  His United flight doesn’t leave from Newark until 3, but he’s catching a bus from Grand Central to Newark.

Alexander’s oversized Cornell duffel bag is so heavy I can’t lift it. 

My son gets frantic.  “Do you think I’ll have to pay more?”  “I really don’t know,” I tell him. Alexander does a quick google search and learns that if a bag is over 50 pounds, there is a $100 upcharge.

He tries to put his enormous bag on my tiny floor scale and concludes, “It says it only weighs 30 pounds but I couldn’t fit the whole bag on the scale.”  And my son is a smart kid.

I tell him to stand on the scale and get his weight.  170.2.  Then stand on the scale again holding the bag. 220.0.  So the bag weighs 149.8.  Without thinking I say, “You better not eat anything before you check your bags.”  Without hesitating he says, "I may eat but don't worry, I won't let my bags have anything."

Alexander's solution if he is over 50?  “I’ll just throw away the big towels."

"Did you bring khaki's?" I ask.

"No, I don't need them."

"Bring them.  What if you all go out for a nice dinner?"  

"Can you just send them to me if I need them?"

"NO!  Take them."

Alexander finds a pair, then goes through the whole weighing thing again to make sure the pants don't put his bag over 50 pounds.  They don't.

As we are getting into the elevator, my son turns to me and says, "That went smoothly, don't you think?"

Alexander easily finds a cab.  I take a few pictures.  

And with that, he's off.