The End of Brazilian Summer

At 09:59 (Local Time) July 9th, I am sitting in the Miami International Airport watching planes take off, heading to I-Don’t-Know-Where (a very interesting destination, I am told).

Amazingly, the tooth fairy (or whoever the current hipster fable icon is that makes people sleep) graced me with FIVE HOURS OF SLEEP on my flight Count ’em: 5!

To be real, ain’t no fairy tale goin’ on. I got me some people praying for me. That, and I think I’ve passed the threshold of traveling experience that teaches people to sleep in pretty much any way imagineable. Just last March I spent about an hour “napping” on a chartered bus with my back on the seat cushion and my legs pointed up in the air. I only stopped because my neck started hurting. It’s the small things.

Of course, my at-rest position made the trip from Curitiba, PR to Maringa, PR, Brazil more memorable for some of my Brazilian church’s youth-group companions. You can ask them if you doubt the mettle of my words. Yes, laugh. The Brazilians did, and frankly, I have to agree it was comical… maybe even conical, depending on your point of view.

All that to say that, for maybe the first time in my traveling history, I’m not worn out after the longest flight.

But my next flight doesn’t start boarding until 1:45 p.m. (WOW, I get to use “a.m.” and “p.m.” again!) This means that I have about an hour to goof around before continuting the Kyle York Tradition of eating at TGI Friday’s when leaving or entering the US via international airport. 11:30 a.m. (there it is again!) I am thinking that the California club with avocado slices doesn’t quite fit the mood. But sweet potato fries (I’ve been fasing them i.e. unable to find them for a year) will surely be feasted upon.

See how that works, fasting and feasting connected? That’s an interesting spiritual concept, and if you’re a Christian, I encourage you contemplate it in light of the Cross. If you’re not a Christian, then fast sweet potato fries for a year, feast upon them, and you will have gotten an idea of what I mean. And Jesus loves you, so please loose yourselves from the bonds of religion and hold on to Jesus’ hand, because that is what walking with Jesus is about!


I have chosen to avoid talking about the 7 x 1 win that Germany (they could hardly believe it) got over Brazil last night. I have also refrained from divulging the fact that the only goal Brazil got occurred while I was using a bucket to flush away my business in the bathroom. Hence I look forward to seeing the goal for the first time on American TV (Previous MBS Post Reference!) and replaying it numerous times, watching each replay at a different angle while squinting. I think 8 times should do it. That way, I should be able to convince myself that Brazil won, if not in real life, then in my own little world.

A guy can daydream, can’t he?


 It is now 10 after noon in Miami, and I am sitting on the other side of the flight hall looking at the day’s list of departures. The only St. Louis flight leaves at 2:15 p.m. (A great city and sightseeing destination, Grain Inc. tells me.


My stomach is making noises. Not because I am hungry, but because I may or may have not treated myself to a TGI Friday’s French Dip and sweet potato fries, and I’m pretty sure the 3 cups of “fresh-squeezed lemonade” left about zero square inches of empty space in my stomach. Well I declare, free refils and yellow citrus fruits, it has been too long. Too, too long.



Oh yeah, I was feeling ambitious and ordered soft pretzles and cheese when the French Dip and fries ran out. (Attribute the dining choice to a certain someone I know who keeps posting pretzle pictures on “Face”, as Brazilians call it.)



I am more surprised than ashamed to say that I did not finish the last pretzle stick. But I can blame that on the soccer discussion I got into at TGI’s with an Argentine, Brazilian-American, and other Latinos. The excitement (and break of focus) must have thwarted my appetite. No doubt it was weakened by the American Airlines chicken or beef. The mention of “7 x 1” was merely the mortal blow.

For those who are wondering, I had the beef.

The upside of the TGI experience was that I had a stand-up server. Sir James tended the bar and waited on me like it was his job. (Haha!) He also showed me how restaurants get that coating of sugar on the glass rim of certain drinks. Keeping in mind that I was drinking lemonade, I was surprised how quick he was. Granted, I was at no point in time more then 3 meters away from him since I was seated at a table for two (or in this case, me and my bags), but within a minute of having made slurping noises upon sucking the glass dry, James was already making another. Add two waters when I told him I was done. Let’s just say that he got an insanely high tip, which I conspicuosly slapped on the bartop before waking toward the exit.

10 seconds later, I returned for the two bags and sweatshirt that I realized I had left, to my chagrin and amusement of the servers. Blushing, I promptly denied having forgotten anything, grabbing my effects and mumbling something under my breath about needing sleep. Which, if you remember one page ago, was a total lie.


Lord, please help me. Help my stupid self.

And for those who say, “Watch out for the power of the tongue, don’t call yourself stupid,” please know that the above line comes from the lyrics of a country song.

Just pretend I was singing a song, and it should calm your nerves. Or you can just think about how good it will be to see me again, since I will catch my flight to STL in a few minutes.

Correction: At the time of this posting, I would like to calculate that my flight was delayed for almost 3 hours.


The Deceit of the Silver Screen… Well, not really, since the delay was due to inclement weather. Looks like I will have to talk to the Man Upstairs about things. And yes, that was a reference to the film that I watched on my flight.

You can imagine my angst upon realizing that, if I went to the bathroom during this 3-hour intermission I would lose my seat near the gate. I was thus effectively unable to take a bathroom break during a bathroom break. Oh the Irony!

By the time I got bed after safely arriving home in IL, I had traveled for 30 hours.

I am currently wrestling a headache. Fortunately, I am slowly subduing it through the headlock of 9+ hours sleep, the piledriver of several glasses of cold water, and the clothesline of creamed honey. And the pride of living in IL and having learning what these three wrestling moves were before the major advent of Internet and Google.


I hope you enjoyed reading this blog post and hearing about my trip back to the US.

Since this is the last post of MBS for the forseeable future, I also want to say how much I appreciate you all as readers. I think I will be putting up another blog or continuing something of the sort, but more on that later. For now, just know that I am thankful to have had the opportunity to share these adventures with you and, perhaps, help make your day more joyful and interesting.

Blessings. Kyle



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