“Hi, my name’s Peggy,” I said, introducing myself to my seat mate on United Airlines, 1st class, non-stop flight to Kona, Hawaii.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Iris and I’m 9,” answered the olive-skinned boy with steel-grey eyes and a shaggy Beatles haircut curled up in Seat 3B, “We’re going to the Four Seasons for my brother’s 11th birthday!”

I learned a lot about Iris over the next several minutes. He has been to Hawaii twice a year ever since he can remember! He has a “totally awesome” older brother, Oliver, and a twin sister named Rose. He lives in Hollywood with his family, is in the fourth grade, plays basketball, baseball, swimming and football, but his favorite thing is that he goes to Rock-and-Roll Camp and plays both the bass and slide guitars, the synthesizer, the drums, the piano and oh ya, the ukulele!

“Rock and Roll Camp?” I said, “So, I guess you’ve really got some ‘moves like Jagger,’ right?”

“You bet I do! AND I can stick my tongue out like Gene Simmons, see?!!” he said, thrusting his pointed tongue w-a-y out of his mouth and all the way down his chin.

“Cool,” I said thoroughly enjoying him.

“Oh! And look what I got,” he said as he zipped open his backpack gently pulling out some treasures. “This is LiLi, my stuffed lion, and THIS,” he said, handing me a brand new, crisp maroon, linen-covered Moleskin, “is from my Grandma.”

I gasped at the sight of the beautiful pristine notebook, waiting for him to chronicle his Hawaiian adventures with his family.

“Iris! It’s FABULOUS!” I said, “I LOVE your Grandma! You and LiLi are going to make this vacation last forEVER through your writing! When are you going to start?”

“I dunno,” he answered noncommittally. I got the impression that he wasn’t as excited about his Moleskin as I was. He seemed more anxious to swim, snorkel, play video games and order room service.

“Um . . . Iris,” I began cautiously, “you’re not even gonna start writing in that journal until you’re on your way back home, are you.”

“Probably not,” he agreed, “I never know how to start!”

“O.K. How ’bout if I help you?” I offered.

“Cool! How?” he asked.

“By giving you a beginning. The rest will pretty much write itself. Give me your book,” I said, reaching for it.

I snapped the elastic band off the front, opened to page 1 and, in my very best handwriting, scripted the prompt, “It all began when my dad bought us first class airplane tickets to Hawaii!”

“There! Done! The rest is up to you!” I said, stretching the elastic strap back over the front cover, closing the book, “Now you’re good to go!  Just make sure you mention that you sat next to a really cool lady on the flight over!”

Iris took the notebook, read the opening line a few times, nodded his approval, tucked it back into his backpack and refocused his attention on his tablet where he was in the middle of Call of Duty: Black Ops III video game.

I, too, opened my tablet, but rather than playing my own games, I accessed my electronic moleskin and copied the prompt I’d just given Iris:

It all began with the purchase of first class airplane tickets to Hawaii. Carl had been planning a 60th birthday mystery trip for me for quite some time — since November, I discovered.

On Christmas morning, after all the gifts had been opened and as I was picking up torn and crumpled wrapping paper, ribbons and bows, I noticed a lone, unopened envelope on the coffee table addressed to “Peggy Dear.”

‘Don’t make any plans between February 10 through 16!’ advised the scrawling beneath a primitive pen-and-ink drawing of an airplane on one of Carl’s monogrammed Crane notecards.

“Really? We’re taking a trip?” I asked with utter astonishment, knowing how averse Carl is to travel of any kind. “Where are we going? Oh wait! Are YOU going, too or am I traveling somewhere by myself?”

“Of COURSE I’m going, but I’m not telling you where,” he replied, “You’re on a ‘need-to-know’ basis. I’ll tell you where we’re going when you need to know! And, by the way, . . . I hope you like that card! I practiced drawing airplanes on scratch paper so I’d draw a good one on your card!”

As thrilled as I was about the prospect of a “Magical Mystery Tour,” I suppressed all enthusiasm for the next several weeks, fearing that something would come up that would cause the plan to fall apart. ‘Proceed With Cautious Enthusiasm’ whispered to me every time I thought about the trip and wondered WHERE we were going. Everyone in the entire free world knows how I HATE cold climates, winter sports, snow blizzards, power outages, frost bite and icicles, so I knew Carl wouldn’t subject me to any place where temperatures dared to dip beneath 60 degrees Fahrenheit. Likewise, everyone in the entire free world also knows how Carl hates traveling to Mexico (and pretty much everywhere else too). My list of possible destinations was limited to begin with, and the more I thought, the shorter the list got!

Phoenix or Scottsdale? No, those are nice places, but definitely not worth three practice drawings of an airplane.

Ireland? Absolutely not! We’re going there for our honeymoon! We’re 23 years late on that, but we’re going to have to wait a little longer! It’s the middle of winter! I’m not going to Ireland in February!

Rancho Santa Fe? No, we can go there any time and we wouldn’t fly! Rancho Santa Fe would be a waste of practice drawings!

Pauma Valley? Hmmmmmmmmmm . . . a definite possibility! Maybe, JUST maybe, Carl is throwing me off guard and he’s REALLY planning a surprise party for me in Pauma! Note to self: Start baiting Rene, Heidi, Eleanor, Pam, Patty and Gayle. See if they slip up!

Tahiti? Nope. Definitely practice-drawing worthy, but way too far to go. And besides, Carl hasn’t been pushing that hard for me to get my global entry card. All of that AND his strong aversion to international travel make Tahiti a No.

Hawaii? Well . . . Let’s just think about this: IF he’s really planning a party for me in Pauma Valley and is just telling me we’re going somewhere, then Hawaii would be the most logical decoy. And if he’s NOT planning a surprise party for me in Pauma, then Hawaii HAS to be the spot! The only unknown about Hawaii is WHICH resort and which island he has chosen!

Sherlock Holmes would be proud of my deductive reasoning!

The guessing game over and the list narrowed down to two possible destinations, I still operated with ‘Proceed With Cautious Enthusiasm’ in the forefront of my mind. There is ALWAYS a chance that an arbitration or mediation will trump our best-laid plans.

The eternity between Christmas and February 10 grew to a close with no intel provided from anyone anywhere! My friends claimed ignorance of any knowledge about my Magical Mystery Tour and family divulged nothing.

As I lay flaked out on the couch on Super Bowl Sunday, desperately fighting off a head cold and wishing myself well in time for my mystery trip, Carl offered a tiny bit of advice.

“If you’re out and about tomorrow, you MIGHT want to buy a bathing suit!” he said coyly.

“He’s GOT to be kidding!” I thought, “I’m in NO mood to even stand up, let alone go shopping!” I mustered all my energy  to raise my stuffed head from the pillow. I looked at him through my watery, glassy eyes, head pounding with every word and hissed,

“Bathing suit shopping requires perfect health and a positive outlook! And even WITH those two things, bathing suit shopping is stressful and unpleasant! I’d rather stick needles in my eyes and eat liver for dinner! Right now I can’t imagine wrestling with Spandex, straps or clasps of any kind! I’m SICK! Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? I could have been prepared!”

“If I had told you where we are going any time earlier, you would have gone out and bought all new clothes! I am just following through on my ‘need-to-know’ rule. If you don’t have a bathing suit, you need to know that you might want one later on in the week! That’s all!” he explained.

Ugh. I didn’t have the energy to argue. Oh well. There were still three days left before our departure and plenty of time for me to lay low and rest. There were a few errands I needed to run in the next couple of days, so “look for a bathing suit(?)” was put at the bottom of that list. I already knew the first, most important, MUST BUY items were: a pipe, 3-4 pouches of Captain Black tobacco and a lighter — not for me, but for Carl. If he decided that my mystery trip would be another good time for him to try to quit smoking, I’d be ready! Neither a head cold nor a lack of tobacco would ruin this time for me!

“What do you want for your birthday?” asked Carl the night before our departure.

“Really? I thought the Magical Mystery Tour was my gift! You don’t need to get me anything else. Just tell me where we’re going!” I answered.

“Does the trip count for Valentine’s Day too?” came the follow-up question.

“Absolutely NOT!” I answered, surprised that he’d even try to double dip. “You’d do something nice for me for Valentine’s Day if my birthday weren’t so close to it, so . . . it goes without saying that my birthday trip does NOT satisfy your Valentine obligation! Besides, I have a Valentine for you, so wouldn’t you feel embarrassed if you didn’t have something for me?” I reasoned.

My Valentine for him, of course, was smoking paraphernalia!   I guess it could be argued that my gift to him was, in fact, double-dipping: feeding his habit also eases the first days of vacation for me, but let’s not digress!

“We’re going to Hawaii!” Carl finally divulged. Packing was easy since I’d already narrowed the possibilities so many weeks earlier. Hawaii had always been one of my suspicions, so I knew exactly which outfits to take! Four golf skirts & tops, four dinner ensembles, a couple of sun dresses, comfortable shoes and The. Dreaded. Bathing. Suit! Along with my usual toiletries, throat lozenges, DayQuil, Mucinex and Neutrogena Sunscreen for Sensitive Skin with SPF-60 were also stuffed into my bag. I was more than ready, eager and willing to board the plane.

“Hi, my name’s Peggy,” I said, introducing myself to my seat mate on United Airlines, 1st class, non-stop flight to Kona, Hawaii.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Iris and I’m 9,” answered the olive-skinned boy with steel-grey eyes and a shaggy Beatles haircut curled up in Seat 3B, “We’re going to the Four Seasons for my brother’s 11th birthday!”

Carl attended to every minute detail associated with pulling off a 60th Birthday Surprise for me — except seat assignments! When we arrived at the gate, Carl inquired about the possibility of changing some passenger seating to enable us to sit together, but no one would change! That’s how I came to sit with Iris. Throughout the five-hour trip to Kona, Iris and I chatted about lots of things in between his frequent time outs for video games and The Lego Movie he had downloaded on his tablet. It became very clear that Iris LOVED his family very much. He kept talking about his dad and all the activities they did together. At one point, I looked across the aisle smack dab into the lens of Dad videotaping Iris talking to me. I smiled and waved for the camera, memorialized forever in that family’s library of home movies.

“Gosh, Iris, you guys seem to have so much fun together! I see your dad and Oliver and Rose, but where’s your mom? Did she have to stay home and work?” I asked, truly wondering where the icing was on the cake of this Perfect Family.

“I don’t have a mom,” admitted Iris, “I don’t know what it’s like to even have one!”

“Uh oh!” I thought, “Did she die in childbirth? Are his parents divorced? Did she abandon the family? Is she in rehab?! Oh NO!! Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?! Everything was going just fine! What do I say now???? AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGHHHHH!”

“Oh, Iris, I’m –” I began, but was immediately cut off.

“I have TWO DADS!” he reported as happily as if he’d just been given a season pass to Disneyland.

Now, here I was, seated in first class where there is MORE than sufficient legroom. Why was it, then, that I STILL managed to cram my foot in my mouth?!

“Oh . . .! Of COURSE!!! TWO DADS!!!!” I began, my mind racing to find some words to cover my faux pas. “Wow . . . um . . . ya . . . two dads . . . yes . . . that’s what you’ve got . . . two dads! Yep, I see them now! There’s one of your dads, videotaping us, and look — there’s another dad, sitting up there right next to Oliver! Well . . . families come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and aren’t you lucky to be in one that loves each other as much as you guys do!” Beads of perspiration dotted my brow and the palms of my hands felt clammy.

And just then, Dad #2 turned from the aisle seat diagonally in front of us and flashed our photo on his cell phone! I shudder to think about how the expression on my face looks . . . for the family album! Shock and Awe? Probably.

I immediately remanded myself into a Time Out and pretended to play Free Cell on my iPad, hoping neither dad had heard our conversation.

The plane touched down for a smooth landing, and in no time at all, we were headed toward baggage claim. Suitcase after suitcase dropped onto the conveyor belt as anxious passengers clamored to retrieve their belongings. I finally wriggled my way up close to the carousel when I felt a light tapping on my left shoulder.

“Excuse me, but would you mind if we shared a ride with you to the hotel?” the lady asked.

I turned to see who was so bold as to ask a perfect stranger for a ride to her hotel and was surprised to see Rene Savard, my very, VERY, VERY good friend from Pauma Valley standing right there!

“RENE!” I squealed, “What are YOU doing here? Is Al here too?”

“Yes, Al’s here too! He’s over there with our luggage.  We just wanted to know if we could ride along to the hotel with you!” she said, laughing with delight at my utter astonishment.

“Oh! My! Gosh!!!!!” I said, too stunned to say anything else, “WHAAAAT? ”

“Surprise!” exclaimed Carl, “They’re here to help celebrate your birthday! Happy Birthday!”

Now it was I who acted as if I’d been given a season pass to Disneyland.

“Hey Al . . . Where’s the potatoes?” I asked, sharing an inside joke as I hugged him as tightly as I could and blinking back tears of joy.

All the way to the Mauna Kea resort, Al and Rene talked about how they’d been setting things aside for the trip while I was at their house for breakfast not even a week before the trip!

“You kept saying that you weren’t sure where Carl was taking you or if you were even going any where at all and we had our suitcase half-packed in the very next room!” explained Rene.

Upon arrival at the hotel and adorned in the customary plumeria leis, we agreed to freshen up before heading down to the Beach Bar for our first official birthday cocktail.   I could hardly wait for a giant coconut shell brimming with “that frozen concoction that helps me hang on” garnished with a slice of pineapple and a maraschino cherry skewered by a bright pink paper parasol! Yessiree, Bob! I was in a hurry! But as soon as we’d swiped the card key over the lock and opened the door, another surprise lay in wait! There on the sideboard sat three silver ice buckets chilling three different bottles of champagne – all for me! “Happy 60^th Birthday! Love, _______” greeted me on each of the cards resting against the buckets!

“I LOVE being 60! I can’t believe how fun it is!” I shrieked. “C’mon, let’s go down to the bar! We’ll take one of these bottles to dinner tonight! One tomorrow night and the third one the next!”

And off we went, back down to meet Rene and Al for the birthday party kick-off!

“I’ll have the biggest, coconuttiest, rummiest, yummiest, Hawaiian slurpee you’ve got!” I said to the bartender, placing my first drink order. “And you’d probably better bring me some snacks, too . . . to soak up some of that rum!”

All cocktails delivered and glasses raised in mid-toast to ME, we were suddenly interrupted.

“Wait for us!! You’re finally here! Happy Birthday, Peggy!” they said.

WHAT??? Who’s talking?! Wait for whom?

 Before I knew what was happening, John and Sue Symes appeared, drinks already in hand ready to join in my birthday toast!

“SURPRISE!” everyone screamed. “Happy Birthday! You’re FINALLY 60 – Welcome to The Group!”

Sue crowned me with a ring of dried Hawaiian flowers with two sparklers raised up front, a six and a zero. John lit them as a chorus of “Happy Birthday” was sung; however, only the 6 ignited. The zero was a complete dud.

“Hah! Get used to it, Peggy! Now that you’re 60, LOTS of things don’t work the way they used to!” he said, divulging some of the secrets of the Over-60 Group!

Halfway through the first cocktail, Carl commented that he’d really like a smoke, but he’d forgotten his pipe! Sooooooo thankful that I had come prepared, just like a Boy Scout, I told him that his early Valentine’s Day surprise was waiting for him at the bottom of my suitcase.

“It’s your lucky day, Carl! I brought you a brand new pipe, three pouches of tobacco . . . your brand . . . AND a fancy lighter! Happy Valentine’s Day and You’re Welcome!”

Now who just got the season pass to Disneyland??!!

Carl trotted off to collect his Valentine, then retreated to the designated smoking area – – a not-so-welcoming 20’ x 20’ patch of sand offering one small bench shaded by a turquois umbrella tucked back in an isolated area of the landscape. Nothing about that spot screamed, “Aloha!”  Only nicotine fiends and sometimes loyal spouses dared venture to the land so far away!

For the next four days we optimized every single minute of my Magical Mystery Tour so expertly planned and executed by Carl. He sent the invitation, he made the reservation, he thought of everything we’d need and satisfaction was definitely guaranteed! Al and I beat Carl and John two days straight in better ball of partners golf matches. John crafted a new trick shot that he named after a popular Hawaiian fish that he calls “The Ono” – for “Oh! NO! I didn’t mean to hit my ball over there!” He taught it to ALL of us! Of course we never wanted to use it, but . . . “The Ono” LOVES to play golf! We snorkeled around the rocky coves, watched the manta rays feed off the plankton, lazed at the beach, imbibed numerous tropical cocktails and even launched a gin rummy tournament between Al and Carl each day at Happy Hour.

My Hawaiian head lei embellished with the sparklers designated me Queen for the week! I was serenaded with “Happy Birthday” each night at dinner, toasted with expensive chilled champagne sent to me by loving friends and honored with complimentary birthday desserts every evening. There was nothing that could have made the celebration any better!

Count me IN for the next Magical Mystery Tour!