Howdy. I know. I’ve missed you too. I flew up to Pella, Iowa this morning with one of my students and a couple of his colleagues. They’re setting up a giant sales meeting for the Pella Window people. Our first stop, after arriving in this contender for “America’s Most Perfect Little Town” was at the bed and breakfast where the two event planner ladies are staying. I’d had a premonition en-route that this was going to be the sort of town where home-baked pie could be considered an eventuality. My intuition was confirmed as soon as we opened the unlocked door to the B&B. The unmistakable aroma of fresh baked apple pie spilled out of the kitchen and filled the picturesque little house. I munched off of the cheese and sausage tray as the girls gave us a tour. Most homes aren’t as homey as this place was.
Ashley would have loved it.
I’m at the “Smokey Row” café listening to Dolly Parton singing “Jingle Bells” and looking out the big windows at a town square reminiscent of “Groundhog’s Day” with Bill Murray. Actually, this whole town is a perfect cross between that movie and “Gross Point Blank” with John Cusack. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and it will be today again except I’ll be an assassin who is back in town for my high school reunion. Looking out the window, it seems entirely possible. Pella is a hyperbole of the small, conservative, town in the Midwest.
“Last time I was here, they were playing church music at the tanning salon…on Saturday!” Tina said. She’s one of the event planner ladies. This comment echoed in my head as I checked out the magazine rack at the Downtown Bookshop. I couldn’t help but noticing the interesting juxtaposition of “Out” magazine just above “Home-Schooling Digest” on the rack. One stop shopping for the latently homosexual isolationist who wants to stay up to date on notable gays and how to “protect” their kids from them.
I walked here from the Royal Amsterdam Hotel, where Jeremy and I are staying. You might guess that calling it “The Royal Amsterdam” is a creative way for the owners to make a shitty hotel seem glamorous in travel brochures, but it really is as elegant as it sounds. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in a room with pillars before. I’ll be staying in a lot of motels in the near future, but I’m guessing that none of them will have pillars in the room or marble window sills. How do I know? I got a new job!
I found out last Friday that I will be leaving in a few weeks to fly a Cessna 172 for an aerial imaging company. I’ll be making aerial maps of different counties; staying in one place for a couple of weeks and then moving on. I’m told that I’ll start in Florida or Texas. When I saw the ad on www.climbto350.com , I knew it was just the sort of nomadic adventure I’ve been longing for since, well, since I was about twelve. I can’t wait. The pay is decent and I’ll be receiving a per diem to cover the motel and rental car. The plan is to save up money while building total time so that by 1200 hours, I’ll be able to buy enough multi-engine time to get on with an airline or cargo operation.
On the down side, I’ll have no scheduled days off which means that I’ll not be able to come home at all. My days off will be brought to me by poor weather. This being the case, and taking into consideration the erratic schedules of pilots in general, Ashley and I have decided to go our separate ways. I’ll always have special memories of our ten and a half months together and hold her in the highest regard, but it became apparent that we weren’t going to make each other happy in the long term. So it goes.
I just had a long conversation with a stranger at the next table. He was on a soda date with his son. The Smokey Row actually has an old style soda fountain. I commented on how Norman Rockwell this town appears to be. I was literally weirded out by his response because it echoed so many of the things I had just written.
“One of the reasons we moved here is because it is such a religious community. Family is very important to us and we’re very close to Christ.”
“We home-school."
“ There is a Tulip Festival here every May where everyone dresses up in Dutch costumes and there are parades and music and…” and Phil the groundhog, I thought.
I told him I was a pilot and just in town for the night. He perked up and told me he was a pilot too.
“What do you fly?” I asked
“Oh, I don’t anymore,” he admitted. “I take pictures for online virtual home tours for real estate agents. I went to flight school but then there were no jobs and I was starting a family…”
Aside from the Jesus sales pitch and the home-schooling mumbo jumbo, I feel like I just met the version of me from an alternate universe where I didn’t take this job, got married, got a normal job, and manufactured a couple kids.
Ashley would have loved this place.
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