California Dreams

Posted on September 1, 2013. Filed under: Uncategorized |

I’m sitting on the plane home from Los Angeles. It’s the 1:35 Virgin America flight into JFK. Through an unusual set of circumstances I was able to change from the redeye to this flight while picking up a $500 credit and an upgrade to first class along the way. Nothing is usual about this moment. For starters, I wasn’t supposed to be in LA this weekend, but I was. Further, Jason Schwarzman, of Rushmore and Garden State fame is sitting across the aisle from me. Lastly, the woman to my right I have seen before. In the terminal…i noticed her…perfect style, unusual grace…yet she was unpackaging a newly purchased set of DJ style over-ear headphones…I remember thinking…still my heart…behold this dichotomous being…I was captivated, and here she is, to my right…acutely aware that she has captured my heart. She flips through the Times that she picked up for this flight…she has noticed that I am doing the same. It warms my heart that she starts with the Cover section…neglecting Style which she could have easily chosen…this is a woman of substance I think…this is a woman who I want to know. She wears two rings on her wedding finger…at first glance I dismay, but there is something not normal…I look again, and this is not a wedding ring at all…a large blue stone graces the finger…a mere tenant of the precious real estate she dons…I wasn’t supposed to be here, but I am. What is Schwarzman doing on my plane? Who is this first class woman with contemporary audiological taste?

Dare she be from the land of LA? My crush, star crossed, by 3000 miles and a cultural chasm more narrow than I had believed…but there is something about her…something different than the sea of relaxed souls that I had encountered in my brief Venice stay…she is focussed…working…there is a seriousness and ambition in her movement…something native to me, and seemingly absent in venice…why is she here? is she traveling for work? successful is sexy…and she is both.

Black jeans and a Knicks shirt…it would be a sad outfit to meet the woman of my dreams if it wasn’t also one of my most “put together”…too much time living in a land of peter pans…where corporations scale and lionize a culture of childhood…where video games and candy affirm engineers’ instincts that they need not be LA…and here I sit, somewhere in between…the Priority on my boarding pass perhaps giving me a pass on the sophistication my friend here has obviously amassed.

And what to do? …my heart beats…if only she is traveling to the west village as well…i might ferry her in a cab to a life that diverges…2A…dammit…it seemed perfect 6 hours ago…but now I am stuck, just one seat off from conversational range…an oblivious asian man separates me from realizing this dream…this whimsical…faithful…half invented dream…that coincidence has dropped me in the lap of my love…on this flight from LA…that I wasn’t supposed to take…alongside the king of coincidence himself.

The only thing to do is send her this note…this real time missed connection…or disconnection…as the case may be…and if she dares…if she believes, she’ll write back with her version of perceived destiny.