Long Ago and Far Away

    It was a long time ago, back when I was single and popular enough to be asked to join a group of my co-workers on a trip to New Orleans at Mardi Gras time.  There were to be 4 of us at final count: one potential traveler was engaged to be married  and decided she couldn't afford the trip, financially or romantically. So the 5th traveler was lost.   Plans were made early in the school year, the primary organizer an energetic and capable exchange teacher from England, quite a wonderfully appealing personality all around. 
    It was still early in the year and so I agreed. The trip sounded like fun, and I could certainly afford it, but secretly I hated the thought of flying, which was new to me, but ever since I'd seen  the John Wayne movie, "The High and the Mighty," some years earlier, the thought of being trapped in what seemed to be a doomed airplane filled me with dread.  I joined in the discussions about the trip, but I secretly planned to drop out as the time approached. The other 3 would be plenty of company.  But then, Christmas came and one of the would-be travelers was given an engagement ring for Christmas and withdrew from the trip, both to save for wedding expenses and to appease the now fiancee. (She was to regret it, then and years later because the marriage did not last, and the memories of the trip were enjoyed for many years.  I'm not much of a traveler, but that was the best vacation I've ever had.)
    Anyway, no one wanted to hear about anyone else dropping out. Two people were not enough of a party.  They needed me.  I waited to tell them, fully planning to break the news at some appropriate time.  But somehow that time never came, and one February day, I found myself in a car headed for the airport in New York.  I remember feeling almost in a state of shock: I never decided to go, didn't know how it happened that I was headed to New Orleans, but it was happening.
   Sometimes those things happen, I've learned.  Almost as if they take on a life of their own, and you have lost, or ceded, control. I've pretty much always relied on myself to make my own decisions. But it's also true that once you take the first step in a process, momentum gathers, and Voila! You're rolled along like a stone stuck in a snowball.