A perfect moment in time is often unanticipated, usually unplanned, and dependent entirely upon random circumstances coalescing to create a memorable experience. To be sure, its perfection lies in the randomness, in that any conscious effort expended to create a perfect moment will almost certainly detract from the final product.
So it was that the events leading up to my Saturday lunch date with Ben in Santa Cruz did not in any way foreshadow the perfection of the actual event. Indeed, it was with much sadness that I texted Ben on Friday to let him know I would not make it to dinner that night as planned. That Ben did not respond to my text deepened my anxiety that the change in plans had saddened him as well. Logistics of a trip to Santa Cruz from the conference hotel in Santa Clara seemed overly complicated and a bit expensive: A $25 taxi ride to the San Jose airport to pick up a car, Friday night traffic on Hwy. 17, a return trip from the airport back to the hotel, and just a few hours to pull it off.
Resigned to returning to Portland witout seeing Ben, I attended the College Fair reception on Friday night, somewhat subdued and disconsolate. As I expressed my frustration with being so close to Ben and yet so far away, my Stanford colleague--obviously more observant than I--remarked that she had noticed a Hertz car rental desk when she had checked into the hotel. I perked up. This was opportunity presenting itself. Walking back to my roon, I sought out the Hertz desk and, though closed for the night, noted that they opened at 9 am.
I fell asleep considering the possibilities. As a Council Member, I should really attend the 8 am business meeting. OK, I can do that. Check out of the hotel prior to 8 am, then go to the business meeting. Take my luggage so that, when slipping out of the meeting at 9 am, everone will just assume I have an early flight. Be at the Hertz desk at 9 am. Paperwork will take a few minutes, so assume arrival in Santa Cruz around 10:30 am. Back to the hotel by 1:30 pm to get a taxi to the airport for a 3:45 pm flight means leaivng Santa Cruz by 12:30. Wait. I'm TSA-Pre. That status will buy me a few more minutes in Santa Cruz.
The business meeting was interminably long. At 9 am I slipped out. No one at the Hertz desk. Really? Please don't pick this day to be late. Only 10 minutes late, no big deal. Nice guy. A sudden thought: Can I drop the car at the San Jose airport instead of the hotel? A negative shake of the head as fingers tap the keyboard ... but, wait. Study the screen for a second. A grin. Are you by yourself? (Depends on why you are asking ....) How would you like a free upgrade? (Starting to sound good ....) I've got a car that has to go back to the San Jose airport and you can have it ... but you wanted an economy car ... and this is ... (wait for it) a Ford Mustang convertable. Bright blue. An inquiring gaze. I grinned. He grinned some more. Deal sealed.
The drive down was marvelous. Through Mountain View, where Peter will work this summer. Through Los Gatos, where the Woz resides. Up the now familiar High Street and right at the barn. To the Merrill parking lot. Then Ben. Happy boy. Big hug. Lots of stories. Selfies to fot@graysky. Too much food. Leftovers packed for Ben. Chocolate chip skillet cookie with vanilla ice cream. Back to the Mustang, with Ben's approval to lower the roof. Back to campus with the sun shining and the air smelling like a redwood forest and the ocean shimmering in the distance. A happy, full boy going off to study Chinese in the forest. And for me, a trip back to San Jose, wind in my hair, sun on my neck, the bluest possible sky above, and a free first class upgrade awaiting me.