Our Interests: Oil

Funny how this doesn't get any play in the press. It's time for a war, you see. Our national interests are at stake. National interests. At stake. Yup.

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Timothy and the Kids

Timothy had a comforting manner. His voice was calm. His expressions were friendly. When he spoke to the passengers there was a confident zaniness in the words he chose. He pretended that he didn't know where the airplane was going next. He insisted that all bags be crammed or kicked under the seats. He radiated a sincere smile without end.

In Jackson, Mississippi the plane landed for twenty minutes. A few people got off and a few got on: tall, burly football player looking guys, old gray haired ladies, young women with bleach-blonde hair in skippy outfits they would soon regret, young women with babies on their hips, college student looking kids, business men and women in impeccable suits looking a bit worn and wrinkled at the end of the day. And there were the unaccompanied minors.

On Southwest, the unaccompanied children always board first. This time there were four: two girls and two boys. The edges in his voice softened when they came thru the door, and Timothy welcomed each one by name. Then he took their bags and found them seats. He sat the girls together on the right and the boys on the left.

When they needed gum from their bags stashed overhead, Timothy found it for them. When they had garbage pinched between their knees, he took it. When they didn't know just what to drink he knelt before them, eye to eye, and slowly named every drink he had. When they dropped their rubber eyeballs under their seats, he searched the rows for them.

With his words and his eyes, Timothy made those four kids comfortable from the start. And once the plane was in the air, they were long since settled in and never stopped talking until they were home.

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Southwest Airlines, Baltimore-Jackson-Houston-Austin
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