Kathryn and I are at Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport, having just been seated at a Mexican restaurant for a second breakfast.
The restaurant on our departure concourse, directly across from the gate, had a ridiculously long line for a table. We strolled down to the next concourse and we were seated right away at the first restaurant we saw. Opportunities tend to present themselves to those willing to walk for five minutes.
We’re on our way to Nebraska for the ordination of a young man from our parish. This is the second time this year we’ve made this trip for the same seminarian. The first time, in March, he was ordained to the diaconate, a last step before the priesthood. Usually there’s about a year between ordination to the diaconate and to the priesthood, but it’s not a hard and fast rule. His superiors apparently decided his time would come a bit sooner. So here we are again.
We had a great time last time we did this trip, or at least as great a time as one can hope for when visiting Nebraska. There were a number of fellow parishioners there in March, and there should be even more this time.
As far as breakfast goes, maybe we should have waited in line near our own gate. For almost $40 for the two of us, this one was quite a disappointment. That said, regardless of the brand out front, all the restaurants in the terminal are operated by the same few companies, so the quality isn’t going to vary much.
Did I mention how weak the coffee was? I received about two tablespoons of cream, and after two cups of coffee, there’s still a tablespoon left. It’s gotten me looking forward to the continental breakfast at the Super 8 tomorrow.
But first, we have to get there. The ordination is taking place in Lincoln. We’re flying Southwest to Omaha and renting a car to get the rest of the way. I’m not a fan of Southwest. Not at all. American also flies to Nebraska from Phoenix, but the schedule really didn’t work for us. Our Southwest boarding area goat rodeo is still an hour away, and my head already hurts.