We board in ten minutes. I’m starting to relax a little, but the competitor in me won’t let me celebrate put my feet into the sand n water if the gulf shores. I’m still tense enough to the point that when u was going to the bathroom, I went looking for my work key FOB so I could get back in the office when I finished n washed.

I saw another signpost along my way to publish Book of Blues: as I got through the security checkpoint n met back up with my mother, I saw a familiar gentlemen sitting on the bench at the end of the aisle. He was adorned in a dark brown overcoat n a classic rimmed brown hat. His posture was of a tired man holding on to his patence n virtutre as if it was engrained within his essence. The man was the Reverend Jesse Jackson.

I don’t know the good reverend. He could tell me from Adam but fir the fact that Adam was Mesopotamian and I more than likely am not. I nodded politely; he nodded back. Ships passing in the night.

But I took it as a sign that I’m going in the right direction. Much like how I drove by and around BB King’s tour busses, taking pictures n pissing off the drivers while in my way to Minneapolis to discuss the book with my cousin. I’ve had numbers n signs like that.

I often consider “signs” signs the metaphysical equivalent of buying a new car and then noticing how many other people own the same car web you’re on the road, but these things I notice make me feel better. That better feeling makes the difference.

Mom found the iPod shuffle I through in her purse when she went to the bathroom.

Lining up for boarding here in a second. We have class A boarding so I dun feel do rushed.

And if anyone was wondering, the good. Reverend Jesse Jackson was flying Southwest Airlines.

BB Kings tour buss back in October 2008

pray this flight makes it okay

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