Can I get there from here?

After a week of frustrating attempts to check plane schedules and conduct related research, I wish to publish a poem of praise to travel agents and airline clerks.

Here it goes:

When your fingers click the keys,
You sure set my mind at ease.

That might not qualify for any awards, but it comes from the heart. Doesn’t that count for something?

This year, various family members are jetting off to destinations around the globe.
For reasons too complicated to detail, I – who hate organizing anything more complicated than ordering a take-out pizza – have been put in charge of trying to determine the following:

--how to get two unaccompanied college boys from their Athens hotel to the airport at a ridiculously early hour, when everybody knows college boys can’t be awakened before noon with anything less than a stick of dynamite.

--how to fly from Los Angeles to Shanghai by way of Nashville, Tennessee (don’t ask why. Your brain might explode).

--I am not making this up.

As you may have gathered, I completed my tasks only with the assistance of some very gifted, very patient travel professionals.

To them I say, thank you.

No wonder my next trilogy from Harlequin American begins in May with a book entitled The Family Next Door. Next year, that’s as far as I’m venturing.