Patti and I are flying overseas for our honeymoon. This is a monumental event because I've never been outside of the United States. I've never been to the west coast either. In fact, my travels have been limited to cities within close driving distance. And more specifically, I don't travel.

When I took my passport photo, the postal worker said, “Don't smile so big.” I closed my lips and smiled without teeth. “…Or at all.” Nothing says have a nice trip like appearing hostile toward airport security just so I can match my picture.

I don't fear flying.
Only falling.
Into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
Where there are sharks.
Who want to chew my heart.
While help is at least three hours away.
And the mini bottles of booze are sinking fast.