I am on a flight from Binghamton, New York, to Detroit, Michigan. This is one of those small propeller planes where people are packed in. The seat in front of me is so close, I can’t even open my laptop and keep my monitor upright. It’s leaning towards me like a half-opened book.

Last night I spoke at St. Charles the Evangelist Church in Susquehanna, Pennsylvania. I new the place was going to be small because the closest airport was Scranton, which is a pretty small city. But small towns can be full of flavor, and that was certainly the story last night.

The drive into town was pretty. Low-lying mountains covered with trees surround the town, and the Susquehanna river passed right through town. Although it is a small town, Susquehanna be a thriving railroad town. The main street in town is lined with old brick and stone buildings.; The streets themselves used to be all brick back when the town was booming. The only brick street left is right in front of the church. The church itself was a beautiful tall cathedral-looking building perched on a hill overlooking the valley.

My talk last night was for middle school and high school students. Fr. Simon warned me that I would be speaking to a smaller group. But I didn’t care; the young people who came were great people. And the older folks who gathered along the edges of the room had a great time too. There was a strong sense of community. I enjoyed staying afterwards and hanging out with everyone.

It’s a small town, and I don’t think any restaurants would be open after nine o’clock. So Fr. Simon and I went back to the rectory to have dinner. The rectory was a beautiful old two-story brick home. Every room was big and had high ceilings. At one time, the home was a booming convent for nuns. But tonight it was only us to, so we the new pope and how to do youth ministry in smaller towns. Fr. Simon is a cool guy. He’s my friend.

This plane really sucks. My body is folded and squeezed into this seat. Every part of my body is pressed against something. My laptop screen is too tall to fit on the tray table, so I have the keyboard pressed against my chest and my screen on my lap. I look ridiculous.

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I am in a bigger plane now on my flight from Detroit to Phoenix. There were light snow flurries this morning in Detroit when I landed. The snow got heavier by the minute. Once I got in the airport, I bought some coffee and snuggled into a chair and looked out at the blizzard. I pretended I was in a ski lodge in Colorado. I didn’t have to manage too much, because the airport was under construction, and one wall was open. The cold air whipped through the terminal.

I flipped through magazines in the two hour layover in Detroit. I picked up a special edition magazine journal dedicated to Pope John Paul II. I flipped through the pages and my heart started to grow warmer. By the time I was finished with the last page, I was crying. I admired JP2 so much, and it breaks my heart to know that he is gone.

My long walk to my gate was filled with my memories of seeing John Paul II. As I walked, I looked up at the jumbotron monitors hanging high on the airport walls and saw news commentators speculating on the papacy of Benedict XVI. The screens were ten feet tall, and the images of JP2 and Benedict XVI were larger than life. It’s not often that the images in my head are broadcast to the thousands of people scurrying through the airport.

I have a plan for a website dedicated to John Paul II. I don’t know when I am going to find the time to pull it off, but I need to get it done soon. It’s difficult to decide which one of my several sites to develop first. They each need so much work.

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Our wings were covered with snow and ice. It took an hour to go through line for de-icing and onto the runway. It’s going to be May soon, so I imagine that’ll be the last time I get a snow delay for the year.

I closed my window blind when we were taking off in Detroit forty minutes ago. You couldn’t see anything beyond the thick cloud of snow. I just opened my window and I was shocked to see Lake Michigan beneath us. The clouds have broken up into delicate white puffs, each casting a dark blue shadow on the light blue shores of the great lake. The coastline is so brilliant that it looks tropical. This has to be Chicago. Oh yes! There’s the stadium off the water…and O’Hare Airport. Now the clouds cast playful shadows on the patches of city blocks. In a few hours, I’ll be in the deserts of Arizona. What a life!