Marsupial Moments and Luggage Purgatory

Sometimes leaving is sad. We think about all we'll miss when we're no longer surrounded by the familiar faces and things, and want to cling onto them like a marsupial safe in its pouch. When I was a child (so I'm told), I often had marsupial moments. New experiences brought about instant pleads to "not go," and yet, once out of the pouch and experiencing distractions and adventures, I was hard-pressed to want to go back in. This morning, walking to the security check-in at LAX I found myself in a marsupial moment (that's "mm" in text language) and before it could fully take hold, it was gone with the unpacking of every electronic gadget and cord in my bag, my 50+ rolls of film and (of course) the cameras ( let us not forget the special experience of shoe x-ray). The emotion and intent of the moment changed so suddenly, all I had time for before the plane took off was to laugh while watching baggage falling off of the carrier's carts from my my window seat view.

If you ever wonder what happpens to lost luggage, I now know it goes into a state of purgatory, no one will see it once it has fallen off from its initial course, and the luggage sometimes can wait twenty or more minutes before it is visible again (that is only if it was "good" luggage). If the luggage was "bad" when it was in the state of luggage purgatory, it remains on the tarmac, ignored by all, driven past many a time, wondering if it will eventually be flattened by an airplane. I believe most luggage today have converted to the "good" ways and there are less and less instances of flattening as punishment.

As I sit typing at the kiosk in the beautiful Vancouver airport, I find myself wondering if my luggage has been naughty or nice.