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Lost Journal

Humor Column
by Tim Mollen

Trip into this World Calls for a Travel Agent

Journal Entry:  May 4, 1969 (age 0)

This has been a long, exhausting trip.  I’ve spent 9 months aboard the mother ship, waiting for my scheduled arrival today.  The timing worked out well, because today is also my birthday.

Like any long trip, this one has been full of hassles.  At the very beginning, I was cellular, but couldn’t get phone service.  I developed a headache at some point, presumably after I had developed a head.  There was never enough legroom, despite my frequent kicks of complaint.  There were no window seats available, so there was nothing to look at outside.  The mother ship also lacked in-flight movies, forcing me to settle for muffled audio from Laugh-In episodes and Nixon speeches.  I kept trying to order some pretzels and a double martini, but all I ever got was the same boring casserole of essential nutrients.  After a few months of this, cabin fever settled in.  Eventually, I was so bored and upset I just curled up in the fetal position and sucked my thumb.

So I was glad when it became obvious today that the long journey was coming to an end.  There was a lot of turbulence during the descent, which made my head spin a little.  Luckily, I was seated near the door, and I jostled into position, using a built-in tether to drag my luggage from the overhead compartment.  The exit itself was too disturbing and painful to describe in detail.  It was like flying into Newark.

But the hassles were not over.  The security people at the gate were WAY overzealous, particularly during the strip search. “Was this really necessary?,” I wondered, when I had thoughtfully planned ahead by traveling nude?  Heedless of this show of good faith on my part, the team of uniformed heavies searched me for contraband toes, hosed me down, and attached an institutional bracelet to my wrist for identification.  Apparently they think my name is “Boy Mollen.”  No one listened as I repeatedly screamed out the name I had already chosen for myself, which is “WAAAIGGGGHHHH.”

On top of everything else, they lost my luggage.  Now what am I supposed to do for food and hydration?

The answer came when I was handed to a person with a big smile and a familiar voice that said, “Hello, Timothy!”  She seemed really happy to see me, so I let it slide that she too did not know my real name.  Then I was handed to another smiling face, with a deeper voice that I also recognized.  He touched a finger to my nose and said, “Hi there, little one.”  Feeling a bit jet-lagged, I started to fall asleep on his shoulder.  As I did, I heard one of the uniformed people ask how many other kids there were at “home.”  The two familiar voices laughed a little and said, “Five.  All boys.”

“Hmm, that should be fun,” I thought, and drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and warm.


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