(A.) Looking for George Clooney and (B.) why I love laser-guided cruise control

(A.)  No, this is not another pathetic attempt to put a photo of George on the blog. While waiting for the plane to take off to Chicago last week, Rob whispered in my ear that he overheard the flight attendants saying that George Clooney was going to be on that flight. We were seated early and had upgraded to First. So tell me what else could I do but to try to look at every single face that appears through the door to see if it's George? 

I love airports and I love looking at people in airports. For the same reason I love looking at people in the DMV office. Everyone sooner or later flies somewhere and everyone sooner or later has their license renewed so there's your chance to witness a fabulous cross section of your fellow man. Under normal conditions, I would be looking at everyone coming into the plane. But this could not under any circumstance be considered normal conditions, and, thus, I only had eyes for George.

You probably can guess what happened. George was a no-show. Did he have a change of plans? Did he miss the flight? Held up in security? All I know is that in looking for George, I missed everything and everyone else. My pre-flight passenger check consisted of evaluating each and every passenger as: not-George, not-George, not-George, etc. My pre-flight passenger check was about what I didn't see, oblivious to what I did see. 

Ah, you know I'm going to pull out a life lesson here, don't you? Once we fill in the blank with what we think we want to see and then define our happiness by that which we think we want to see, life slips down the aisle, avoiding our gaze. While we look for George.

(B.) Laser-guided cruise control changed my life. I set the speed, I set the distance between me and the car in front of me, I relax. The car in front slows down, my car miraculously slows down too. The car in front speeds up, my car miraculously speeds up too. I don't understand it, but that's part of the fun.

So, now I'm a different driver. I let my car do the work. I'm still looking out for whatever I'm supposed to be looking out for, but I am no longer anxious or angry when I'm doing it. I'm fascinated with the process of giving up control.

This has (not surprisingly) spilled over into other parts of my existence. In my life, as in my driving, I'm not exactly closing my eyes and taking my hands off the wheel, but I'm just not as concerned with what the other guy is doing. My pleasure comes from getting from point A to point B and what everyone else does or doesn't do isn't in the long run going to help or hurt me. I just keep the tank filled and the radio on and enjoy the ride. 

There's a lot of drama on the road but when you're gliding along without much effort on your part, how other people drive seems less important. As long as they're not tailgating or flipping you off, then you're able to keep going with your inner poise intact and seem less inclined to scream or drive off a cliff.

I guess this post is about happiness. It doesn't come from getting what you want. And it does come from moving ahead with some degree of calm. That's all.