I'm on a bus. A shuttle bus. circling around the Dulles Airport satelite lot, luggage resting at my feet, hoping that I've remembered where the car was parked. I'm tired, I'm exhausted, and I've just endured a cross-country flight that took up most of the day.

Let's backtrack a bit: I had turned 30 just three weeks earlier. And my lovely wife K decided that it would be nice to "surprise" me with a trip somewhere. I had told her a list of places where I wanted to go, she booked the tickets, and didn't tell me where it would be. Before the start of our long weekend, people at work were even trying to fathom where I would be heading once I arrived at the airport.

I met K at the airport. We got in line at the US Airways desk. She kept the itinerary of the trip out of my sight. We got to the front of the line -- and I saw her whip out both of our passports as she told the service rep our names.

Passports! This could only mean one thing - an international flight, I thought.

And I was dead wrong -- as I discovered when, in hand, we had our round trip tickets to Seattle.

And it was quite and exciting weekend, beginning with our flight being delyaed enough to prevent us from getting our connecting one. So they were able to put us on a non-stop flight on United. We got to Sea-Tac aiprort and rented a sporty Ford Escape (Thanks, K!) and we drove to a pretty awesome hotel right in downtown Seattle, where they completely botched up our reservations. Eventually, we got a room on a different floor -- no biggie, since the view of downtown was still spectacular.

We did the whole tourist thing in Seattle. We even used our passports and drove up to Vancouver one day -- my first time in Canada, actually -- and did quite a bit there. We saw a good friend of ours who works at UW. We did the Seattle Underground Tour, one of the best walking tours I've ever been on. We ate at Madame K's, a restaurant which used to be a bordello and still has that ambiance. We visited the Experience Music Project museum. We simply had an incredible amount of fun that whole weekend.

As a bonus -- the hotel surprised us with this lavish cheese platter the second day we were there -- with a sincere apology letter regarding the mix-up at check-in, And it was good cheese, too...

So -- back to the shuttle bus. We're tired but smiling. We just want to get to the car. The bus is moving along. Everyone else is completely quiet, waiting to get back home as well.

May 6, 2002 - 12:00am


"Can I have everyone's attention, please?"

Surprisingly, that voice is coming from me. I just broke the silence on the bus -- interrupting the sound of the bus motor.

"Sitting right next to me is my wife, K. Just a few seconds ago, she turned 30. I think it would be great if we all could sing happy birthday to her. Okay? Don't hold back! 1... 2...."

K's fingernails clutch into my hand as she laughs out loud...

"...3! Happy Birthday to You.... Happy Birthday to You... Happy Birthday, Dear K.... Happy Birthday to You!"

The rest of the passengers sing and laugh along, followed by applause. K has turned a beautiful shade of purple by now, but is smiling nonetheless.

And everyone who leaves the bus at the appropriate stop leans in with a quick, witty comment, or even just a "happy birthday."

We finally get to our stop. We drive home, completely exhausted. I wish her a happy birthday yet again before we sleep off our day of travel.

May 5, 2004


I'm cheating. I know it's not your birthday yet. But two years have passed, and this is what I'm thinking of tonight. I know you have "age issues," and I know things have been a bit ragged.

We need more vacations like Seattle. Does that mean we'll follow tradition and have a kid 36 weeks after our next big getaway, just like Seattle? Who knows? Not important...

But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Yo, Mindsay people: K is going to be 32 years young in just a matter of minutes. And she reads this one quite a bit. Everyone -- join in with me:

(Or feel free to sing in whatever language you know best.)