Thursday, June 16, 2011

I Missed My Flight

In case you didn't catch the title of this post, I missed my flight.  The flight that's supposed to take me to Greenwood, MS (technically Memphis) so that I can make a documentary film about my grandfather, or my search to find him, or a film about education in America, or whatever the filmmakers decide to do.

I've been complaining, loudly complaining, about how I can't believe all the ways that my family members (and M.W., Booker's lifelong companion) are making it difficult to get this project off the ground.  They agree to be interviewed and then they back out at the last minute.  Now, here I am missing my flight.  I couldn't decide who to call or text. After what happened last night I was definitely not calling David Zellerford.  I sent a text to the person who's supposed to pick me up from the airport.  I offered her $1,000 if she'd agree not to tell David that I missed my plane.  I think she's considering it - seriously.

There's actually a little more to this story that I probably need to disclose.  David and I have had several conversations about luggage, clothes, and make-up.  These conversations usually end with him saying he has to go while I'm still in the middle of a sentence.  They don't ALL end this way, but most of them do.

For this trip David thinks I need one checked bag with minimal amounts of clothing.  I think I need one bag for shoes, one for hair styling tools, one for skirts, one for tops...you get the picture.  In my defense, I still feel somewhat in the dark about what we're actually going to be doing.  I want to make sure that if I end up walking through snake infested grass with my dad out in the country that I'm wearing more than a pair of shorts and sandals.

Plus, I have no idea how often I'll be on camera. Will I be sitting down to do interviews or will I be sitting in a back corner with a notepad watching while Raymond does all the interviews? Option two would require shorts and t-shirts. Option one requires a lot more than shorts and t-shirts.

At some point in the last few days I realized that my airline charges a fee for checked bags.  My desire to bring a lot of luggage kind of became a tension laced joke between David, his assistant and me.  So, I felt like a champ when I figured out how to arrange my clothing so that I'd only need to check one bag.  It's the size of a small car, but I still felt like I'd accomplished something great.

I'll give you one guess as to why I missed my flight?  I didn't get to the airport early enough to check my bag.  The woman at the counter actually said that if I was willing to leave it that I could still make my original flight.  Needless to say, she put me on a later departure and changed my connecting flight as well.

So, I'm sitting in the airport feeling somewhat overdressed.  I'm wearing a pink dress and high heel shoes.  I'm dressed like this because I have no idea how long after arriving in Greenwood I'm going to be expected to be on camera or if I'll even be on camera at all today.  The first thing on the Thursday morning calendar is an interview with Senator Jordan.  I was hoping to at least arrive during the interview so that I could see him and thank him for his help all those years ago.  Now, I'm just hoping that I haven't royally screwed up any critical production plans for the day.  


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