Up in the Air: What’s on your iPod?

When writing a blog entry, I find myself writing in one direction and then going off on little bunny trails that wind up leading to a completely separate blog.

I found myself there this morning while crafting a response to my friend Bret Pemeltons latest blog entry.  So, here is the-response-to-a-blog-entry-that-led-to-a-well—-blog-entry, entry.  (oh, you get it.)

Read Bret’s first.

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Wonderful!

Where you hated, as a kid, the throwback to oldies…I on the other hand loved them.

I’m sure it was the American Graffiti soundtrack that took me down that path. (I have the original two album vinyl, in a frame, above my record player).  The pureness of the vocals, the innocence of the subject matter and the 3 member bands, were some of the best recorded.

Sha Na Na had the best marketing gimmick EVER when they decided to run with craze and keep the 50’s alive.  Their variety hour made me laugh and I couldn’t wait for them to sing..”goodnight sweetheart, well it’s time to go…”.  Probably the most successful cover band in history.  LOL

This discovery of R&R’s roots, led my father to bring out the Mopar bucket with a stack of 45′s.  I would spin those disks in my room for hours, listening to original recordings along with all the pops and clicks. (SIDE NOTE: Dad originally listened to the 45s in. his. car.  Yes cats, he had a record player mounted under the dashboard of his car, upside down, spring loaded needle arm).  I would find new-to-me music that would lead me to more new-to-me music.  Funny.  Do your kids ever run in the room and exclaim: “Dad! You’ve got to hear this!”, only to play an original recording of something from your own childhood?  Yeah…I did that with every single, single.

SIDE NOTE: “Singles”: the original single song purchase for 99 cents (actually about 54 cents in the 1960‘s) got you a flip-side!  Two.  Two songs for one!  Flip-sides mostly featured unpopular songs by the same artist…but some flip-sides became hits and even launched careers.

Anywho…

Music began to open up for me with those oldies. Now, I had discovered music early on, and you can blame the parents He gave me for this.  I don’t remember saying the following, but am told that two popular sentences in my vocabulary were:

“Play Jack!” – Which meant…”Please play Hit the Road Jack by Brother Ray”

and

“Play the free to walk song” – Which meant…”Please play Gentle on my Mind by Glenn Campbell. (“It’s knowing that your door is always open and your path is….free to walk”)

As I got older, my musical tastes developed both from my own likes and from the encouragement of those parents He gave me.

I remember a day in 1977 when my Dad called from his chair and said “JEFFY!  You gotta come see this”…I ran out, looked at the TV, a music awards show was on, and there he was in all his Roosterness, singing Hot Legs...Rod Stewart!  Flamboyant, entertaining and wound up like a toy…he owned that stage.  I was done.  This guy rocked.

From there it was David Bowie, Elton John, Queen and all those other performers that strutted around and took their crowds on a ride. (hmmm…what else did they have in common?)

You (Bret) have 5 years on me (just sayin’) and that 5 years saw musical changes that I didn’t follow…I wasn’t a Kiss fan (I get it now), I wasn’t a heavy metal fan, I was an 80s-Casey-Kasem-Weekly-Top-40-pop-guy. Journey, Styx, Petty and the like.

My iPod is riddled with 80s stuff.  I find it hard to listen to new music because I just love my era oldies so much more.

All because of a Teen Angel, named Peggy Sue who listened to the Rhythm of the Falling Rain, while putting the Bop in the Bop Shoo Bop Shoo Bop.

“up in the air”: Manny, Moe and Jack

People watching.  

One of my favorite ways to pass the time while traveling.

Over the years I’ve seen a lot of different, interesting folks.  From families on vacation (really kid…stuffed animals?), business men out to make a buck (no, you don’t own the whole plane), elderly couples in wheelchairs (you may not want to use the moving sidewalk) and basic general public (wonder where they are going?).

Recently there were 3 college age boys (yes “boys”) that were on their way somewhere.  I was sitting in my Southwest provided leather gate area chair, complete with USB port and power outlet…and they were standing next to me, in a circle, going on about their jobs and their investments, waxing poetically about large companies they thought were cool and sharing insights with each other about how their 5, 7 and 10 year plans were gonna play out.

It was time to board the plane. Our gate agent gave the instructions (see previous post).  I boarded and picked my window seat.

After I get comfortable in my seat, I like to watch the rest of the people come down the aisle. (“A” boarding pass here…again, see previous post).  It’s always a crap shoot as to who will be choosing the seat(s) next to you.

*Here comes a woman with a baby…don’t look her in the eye.

*Teenage girls, complete with attitude…where’s my headphones?

*Hippie lookin’ guy carrying what looks like a lunch bag, complete with grease stain…experience tells me whatever is in that bag, is gonna have a stench!

*Big guy, really big guy, really really big guy…sigh.

Here come the 3 college boys, still, talking, about, life.  Luckily they can’t sit with me…there are only 2 seats here.

They pass me…and choose a row, two rows behind me.

Some older lady (i.e. not a teenage girl with an attitude) chooses the aisle seat in my row…our middle seat goes unclaimed. YES!

Now.  Time to try and relax.

I don’t really fall asleep on a plane.  I’ll nod off, but my own snoring, or that giant bobble-head, jell-o neck snap that happens as soon as you do fall asleep, wakes me up.

Any way, I tried to sleep…but noooooo.  So, after the failed dream land, I grab the Sky-Mall magazine…

Side note:  Nothing has changed in the Sky-Mall magazine.  For. Ever.  Garage items, doggy ramps, tree faces, learn a language cd’s, pool items and hose winders. They’re all still there.

…and look for something new.  Nope.

Just as I grab my trusty iPhone to listen to the latest Bob & Tom Show Podcast and try to get 3 stars on each Angry Birds level…I hear the 3 college boys talking…

Side note:  Nothing has change in the 3 college boys conversation from the time they were waiting at the gate 39,000 feet below us ago.

College Boy #1:  “I think diversifying my portfolio will help us in the long run”

College Boy #2:  “The reliability of the Mercedes far exceeds that of the Lexus”

College Boy #3:  “After my internship, I plan on starting my own practice and…”

*RECORD NEEDLE SCRATCH!

WHAT!?  Really?

Ok…I’m all for chasing your dreams. And, I memorized the 7 P’s (Prior Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance) a long time ago…I get it.  But this goes on for the entire flight.  Not just regular talking and conversation…they are all talking at the same time.  It reminds me of my Grandmother, Mother-in-Law, the Woman He Gave Me and My Sister-In-Law…(no offense…and I’ve said this before in front of them…and they claim to know what each other is saying…but, wha?) talking at Easter Dinner.

More…penetrating the din of my Bob & Tom laughter and Angry Birds tweets and crashes…I can hear them talking…

College Boy #1:  “The prices here compared to the overseas market….”

College Boy #2:  “The future lies in understanding the ebb and flow of…”

College Boy #3:  “I think Steve Jobs does a good job of…”

*RECORD NEEDLE SCRATCH!

OH NO HE D’ENT! Did he just invoke the name of Steve Jobs?  Did he just say Uncle Steve does a “good” job?

I turned so fast to see which precious college boy dare think he had the knowledge enough to critique the 4th person of the Trinity that my already throbbing neck muscles began to bleed through my pores.

Again, I’m all for trying to emulate the best.  I’m a dreamer.  But, hey, Ralph Malph…when you run a company that has $45.8 billion in cash and marketable securities (yes billion), then you can have verbal opinions.  Just this morning you were logging in to your HotMail account to check your class finals scores…so find someone else to say does a “good” job at running their company, like maybe, someone in the just-in-time profitability industry like the airlines I fly every week.  The fact that you can fly across the country every day at a moments notice is cool.  But one national attack or emergency and 4 days later they’re asking congress for a hand out.  (really?…yes)

Oh and…you can’t count to 45.8 billion because that annoying purple dinosaur that taught you to count can’t count past 7.  Just 7.  The one after 6.  My purple guy was cool before it was cool to be a vampire and he could eat 45.8 billion for breakfast!

(Breathe, breathe…it’s ok…this happened months ago and you’re just typing it out now…you’re gonna wake the lady next to you you’re typing so hard.)

So, even though I tried and tried (telepathically)…I couldn’t get them to shut up.  There wasn’t a bird of any color that made enough noise to drown out this E.F. Hutton wanna-be flight.  It was killing me.

Then…I started to laugh.  Not nostalgically. But because, as a person with a family, a person with a job, a person will bills, a person that still dreams, I was 99% sure of how their life was gonna turn out.  And that, was hilarious.

Ladies and Gentlemen we are now beginning our decent in the the Tampa area. Please make sure you seat back and tray table are in their (say it with me) upright and locked position.

Finally we land.  Finally we stand. (you know the stand…that thing everyone does when the plane pulls to the gate and we still aren’t gonna get off this tube for another 10 minutes..but we do it anyway and wait for the heard to start moving)

The 3 college boys are still talking.  I look at them in their pressed shirts and ties and just smirk.  Some lady has now engaged them in conversation in the aisle.  She seems impressed with them.  They are still going on about how they are gonna “make it”.

I stretched my neck, took a breath, turned and said:

“HEY!”…

The 3 college boys looked at me.  Everyone did. It was quiet.

“Then. You’re gonna get married. Have kids.  AND, a mini-van.  Enjoy!”

The entire plane laughed out loud and applauded!

(no they didn’t…and I didn’t say anything…but man that would have been great!)

*Todays blog was brought to you by the numbers 3…and 45.8 billion

Up in the Air: “Where am I?”

Hampton Inn, Courtyard by Marriott, Embassy Suites…these places are my home away from home.

I choose these because they are reliable.  There is no guessing with them. Each room (respectively) looks the same from St. Louis to Peoria to Boulder.  A Hampton is a Hampton is a Hampton. I find that, somewhat comfortable.

I’ve even found certain rooms I like, and request that specific room if I can.

When in the Skokie, Ilinois Hampton…I don’t like to stay in room 254.  The head of the bed, and mattress, tilts downward, making the blood rush to my head.  Not good.

And, I’ve recently figured out, that although the Woman He Gave Me and I sleep in a King Size bed..I prefer doubles or queens when on the road.  Why?  Ok…you asked for it.

Travel city hotel rooms are usually booked and occupied by a single (meaning 1…not meaning unmarried) person.  And, in a king size bed, they usually choose the side of the bed that is closest to the widescreen-tv-that-doesn’t-actually-have-an-HD-signal-so-every-picture-is-stretched-and-actors-and-reality-show-losers-all-look-like-oompah-loompahs.

This choosing of sides causes, over time, an indentation in the mattress.  And that indentation is not my indentation.  It’s just weird.  So, sleeping in the middle of the big king size bed is impossible what with the crater to my right or left while I try to balance myself on top of the ridge that separates the now two distinct sides.

So, even if the queen size or double size near the widescreen-tv-that-doesn’t-actually-have-an-HD-signal-so-every-picture-is-stretched-and-actors-and-reality-show-losers-all-look-like-oompah-loompahs, has a crater…it’s in the middle of the bed and there is no balancing to be done.  Therefore I get a better nights sleep.  (who am I kidding, I sleep like crap no matter where I am…thanks Dad)

All that to say that even though these places are my refuge for some days, I have on occasion, awaken (woke? awoken?…suposubly?) in the middle of the night and not really known where I was. Confusion ensues, I run into the wall that shouldn’t be there, and then wake up head back to my crater.

Being in strange places makes people do strange things.

I pulled my rental mobile in to the parking lot of the latest Hampton and noticed what looked like another rental car parked in my favorite spot.  Right next the door.  (I usually pretend there’s a valet waiting for me, toss my keys and say…”Good morning Hector…be careful with her…she’s a ‘bute..and she corners like she’s on rails!”  But that doesn’t happen, so I just check in and then move my car)

Now I have to walk…across the entire parking lot (20 yards)…dragging my luggage and parifinalia all the way (it has wheels…) to the sliding-automatic-Get-Smart-style-doors.

Side note:  I don’t stay places where the front doors aren’t sliding-automatic-Get-Smart-style-doors…I hate having to stop, let go of luggage, open door,  move my luggage, get through door without my luggage getting caught as door (which is too heavy) closes…and oh look…ANOTHER SET OF REGULAR PEOPLE NON sliding-automatic-Get-Smart-style-doors!  Ugh

Where was I?  Oh yeah…car in my spot…

As I drove past them, I noticed 3 people in this car that was parked in my spot…the two up front were bent over looking at the steering wheel, and the passenger in the back was craning their neck to see whatever it was the other two were looking at.

I got out of my fine ride, and started walking to the front of the hotel, toward the car in my spot…Noticed they were still perplexed about something…and noticed the driver of said car in my spot, was looking up at me and then would look away…looking up at me and then would look away.

Being the kind traveler I am (stop it)…I asked…”Do you need some help…?”

The driver, the older man (60’s), said “Yes…I can’t seem to get my key to fit in the ignition of my rental car again”

I said..”Well…let me look at it…”

I slide into the car…“Hi. How are you…person up front and person in back seat?”

“Good” they say…“We’re not sure why the key won’t work any more.”

I scan the car to see what type of car it is…the logo on the steering wheel is familiar.  It’s a Toyota.  Nice.

And in a split second, I notice something about the feel of the key in my hand, that driver man had handed to me.  Hmmmm…..It doesn’t feel like a typical Toyota key…(yes…I’m CARnak the great!  No…I have a Toyota at home so I am familiar with the key).

I look at the key in my hand…step out of the car (in slow motion), and before I walk through the sliding-automatic-Get-Smart-style-doors, I toss the keys to the older man (60’s)…grab my luggage and say…

“This is a Ford key”

I think I heard them say “Who was that masked man?” as I walked away.

“Up in the Air”: Alphabetically and Numerically Challenged

*sigh

As I have said before, I travel, a lot.  Last week West Virginia, this week Colorado, next week Nashville.  Up in the air junior bird man.

I’ve recently been given the moniker of “curmudgeon”, the dictionary Uncle Steve provides me defines curmudgeon as “a bad-tempered or surly person…”.  I might buy that.  Those that know me may completely agree.  Those that know me…would call me more…cranky.  Which, I think, is probably the peoples definition of curmudgeon. So…I’ll take it.

Ok..so, wife drops me off at the airport (after too much traffic), I grab my boarding pass (after checking in online 24 hours prior…a scout is thrifty, blah blah…prepared), I head to security check point #1 (Great!, still not on the watch list), grab people-moving-tram-like-shuttle-thing, head to security check point #2 (no lines (wow, really?) not on their list either), get in the next line to basically unpack and undress so I can walk through some cancer inducing xrayish type thing. I don’t “beep” (I used to…ask me about that later), repack, redress (hold me, I feel so used) and head to my gate (no time for Starbucks, DAMN! traffic..I’ll drink the Southwest swill on the flight).

Here is where the fun starts and the curmudgeon in me must be suppressed.

Southwest Airlines prides itself on being an easy, non-stress airline.  The boarding process has changed over the years. We used to line up by color.  Then it was color AND number, not in numerical order.  Then, wait for it, color AND number, IN numerical order.  Then some incarnation of the letter A, B or C + color + number + birth city – the middle digits of your social security number + did you call your mom? (no…sorry mom).

Recently they got it all together and decided to make it even easier.  A, B or C + a number, in alphabetical and numerical order.

To make it even easier, a friendly Southwest Airlines worker get’s on the Dukane (look it up) and explains this whole system before you begin the process.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen, in just a moment we will begin our boarding process for flight number <insert flight number> here at gate <insert gate number>.  If you’ll take a look at your boarding pass, you’ll notice the letter A, B or C and a corresponding number.  We will board the A passengers first and then the B’s and C’s.  Family boarding will be between the A and B passengers. Once on board, we have open seating, just pick a seat…they’re all leather and they all get there at the same time.    (mild laughter). So, A’s, please find your spot in line.  A 1 through 30 on the left, A 31 through 60 on the right.  Find your corresponding number on the metal dividing poles and line up accordingly.  B’s and C’s, please stay seated until I call your group.”

Now is when the sheep (sheep, because sheep are stupid) get up, holding their boarding pass in front of them like some kind of cosmic airline divining rod.  Heading toward the metal dividing poles like they’ve catapulted to stonehenge.

And if you’re quiet, you’ll hear thought provoking questions like:

“What number are you”?

“Are you an ‘A’?”

“Is this the B line?”

And nice answers like

“My number is 23.”

“Yes, I’m an ‘A’.”

“No mam, this the ‘A” line…see…you’ll sit down over there and wait for your letter and number to be called. Then. See these numbers? You’ll line up here”

But, If you’re real quiet…you’ll hear the skits in my head, with answers like:

“I’m number one, numero uno, don’t forget it.  But today, Southwest has branded me with the gawd awful number 55”

Or

“Yes…I’m an ‘A’. I’m standing here first aren’t I?  Did you listen to the lady? You didn’t, did you? ‘A’‘s first…then ‘B’s and ‘C’s.  See, if you check in online up to 24 hours ahead of time, you can pretty much get yourself an ‘A’ boarding pass. AND, if you’re real savvy, you can even pay 10 bucks and get your boarding pass up to 36 hours in advance..almost guaranteeing you that coveted ‘A’.  Run along.”

Or

“Is this the ‘B’ line? Really? Were you not listening?  Oh that’s right, you stopped to get your Starbucks, instead of being here, in Emily Post fashion, at the gate in ample time to line up accordingly and hear the proper Southwest instructions.  How’s that coffee you got on your shirt because you cant hold the cup correctly for all the carry on luggage you have? Bags Fly Free brainiac…do you not watch tv?.  No you can’t stand here and let all us chosen ‘A’s walk around your African Safari size luggage pile while we board just so you don’t have to move again.  And, by the way, your flight changed gates…this is gate C31, your flight is now at gate B22, I’m sorry, you probably didn’t hear that announcement either, cause the popcorn you were mowing through was making so much noise.  Quick…go…they’re closing the boarding door on your flight!”

Alphabetically and Numerically people…this isn’t that hard!

Geez.

You are now free to move about the internet.

“Up in the air”: ..and off the grid

Welcome to 2010! In a moments notice, you can get from here to there for relatively cheap. A flight from Tampa to St. Louis (869 miles) takes about 2 and a half hours for about $200 round trip. Tampa to the L.A. area (2207 miles), about 6 hours with stop over in Las Vegas (Little known fact…I ALWAYS win money playing the slot machines in the LV airport…”WHEEL! OF! FORTUNE!”) for about $350 round trip. Basically, as the cute kids say, “It’s a small world after all…”.

And, even though you are so many miles away, with the technology afforded us (instant messaging, texting, email, and mobile phones…say it like a Brit…”Mo-bye-el”) we can find ourselves back in our hometown, vocally and visually, with ease.

On recent travel for work, I left home during a monumental week for my family. See, First Born had just graduated High School and we had just come off of a two week celebration of such. Family, friends, parties, nostalgia, reminiscing, you name it. But, the week ahead of us was to be even more exciting. It was the week the new iPhone4 was to be released!

We always do these things together! We watch Steve Jobs deliver mind blowing keynotes during World Wide Developer Conferences (WWDC), “oooh” and “awww” over the new and upgraded products, ask ourselves “do we need this new product or upgrade” (um…yeah!). Then, after ordering, we anxiously await their arrival.

Last June, First Born and I decided not to upgrade our 3G phones to the then, lightning fast 3Gs (one time we actually said “no”) and await what was promising to be a wonderful new phone that would be released this year. After its introduction a couple months ago, we were “in”.

First Born and I strategically sold Mom on upgrading her phone this year…AND…convinced her it was time to bring Second Born into the fold.

SIDE NOTE: Before you go off on how much money they cost…know this: We bought our first two phones a few years ago for the discounted rate being offered. Since then, we have upgraded by selling our old phones on Ebay, for a profit, and thereby reclaiming our initial investment, plus profit, to further pay for our phone habit. So…these really aren’t costing us anything! So, BACK OFF!

Ok…

Last week on Pre-Order day…I spent about 3 hours in iPhone hell. Overloaded web systems made it virtually impossible to pre-order online. It went like this: Input info. Choose phone. Await upgrade confirmation. Get confirmation. Put in CC info. Click Order-Now button, wait for it…wait for it….screen pops up that says “Oops! blah blah yourordercouldn’tbeprocessedtryagain” “Oops!”? In the words of Bill Cosby…”I know what I’ve done when I say ‘oops’..what did you do?”

Three. Hours! But, I finally got them ordered..whew! And just in time. MacRumors.com was reporting that all pre-orders, going forward, would NOT be delivered on release day June 24 as promised, but sometime in July, due to overwhelming response. (600,000 phones sold for pre-orders). My confirmations stated a delivery of June 24. Cool.

The day after pre-order day, I confirmed that I would have to be out of town on delivery day, June 24. Actually, I’d get home that same day, late that night. But I’d miss waiting for Mr. FedEx to deliver my new toy (part of the fun) and get home to it awaiting me. I can live with this.

In preparation for delivery, I paid .99 cents for an App for my current iPhone that would send me push notifications (look it up) telling me just where in the world our new phones were according to their being scanned at different FedEx ports along their journey. Honk Kong, Alaska, Memphis, (“Munich..everybody talk about, mmm, Pop Music” ) then Tampa!

Before my trip I received my first push notification that the triplets were on the dock in Hong Kong awaiting a seat assignment and boarding pass.

So..my travels begin and .99 cent App keeps informing me of the absolutely-positively-has-to-be-there goods, when I notice something strange. Seems the delivery day has been graciously changed to June 23. A day early. While I’m still OUT OF TOWN! I’m not even going to be near it whilst it spends its first day at my house!

Nothing I can do about it…try not to stress..it will be there when you get home. It’snotyourfault (I know), it’snotyourfault (I know!).

Now, while traveling, I stay in nice(r) hotels and get to choose where I enjoy my meals. Given that there are usually restaurants near my hotel that I can’t frequent at home, in most cities I know where I am going to consume my meal before I get there. In St Louis, it’s Chevy’s Fresh Mex restaurant. Great smoky salsa, table side made guacamole, great flavors all around. It is here that my availability to the grid (hence the title of this entry) was about to change.

I’m there enjoying my meal. Entertaining my new trainee and his lovely wife, when I look at my phone, read the time, and notice that First Born is probably home from work and most likely running around the house waving his new phone above his head in joy. It is June 23, the day before the published delivery day of our iP4s, and .99 cent App has pushed to me the notification that they have, indeed, arrived.

I continue to make workish conversation while enjoying the guac and fresh tortillas, when I get a text message from Second Born that reads, “First Born needs the last 4 digits of your social security number”. Ah…there it is…he’s home, he’s activating his phone, but needs his Fathers important information to continue his quest. It’s good to be needed. It’s good to know that after all these years of child rearin’, life lessons, tears and laughter…he still needs me. (Yeah..just text him the number…it’s the phone he needs Ward, not you)

I text him the last 4 digits of my social security number and grin knowing he’s about to be the first in our family to experience this latest advancement in this wonderful technology.

The nice waitress refills my beverage (orange please, not a lemon) and brings out the Fresh Mex! Mmmmmm, cheese enchilada, mini chimi, beans and…wait…Houston? We have a problem.

My phone is reading No Service in the upper left corner. I’m getting flashing messages that my mail program can’t access it’s mainframe, my text messaging has a red exclamation point indicating it can’t send or receive the mini messages that I so anxiously check for every 5 minutes. Something has gone terribly, terribly wrong!

As our meal beings to wind down, I wave down nice waitress and make a “check” motion with my hand (they hate this). All the while glancing at my phone too see if it has come back online. Maybe something has caused AT&T to lose signal in the St. Louis area? Funny, AT&T is always so reliable…I can’t imagine that are having trouble. Yeah, nothin.

My trainee and his lovely wife drive me back to my nice(r) hotel and thank me for the wonderful cuisine. Bye, bye-bye now, bye.

Run upstairs, get in hotel room, log on to computer, open iChat…there he his, status “Away”, First Born.

Me: HEY!

Me: What.

Me: Did.

Me: You.

Me: Do?

First Born: Hey dad!

Me: ?

First Born: You have a fully functional iPhone 4 waiting for you here at home!

Me: What. Happened?

First Born: Yeah…we knew we had a problem when Second Born called you from his phone and it rang here on my desk.

First Born: Seems it automatically activated the first phone connected with your number. Funny.

Me: Mmmm Hmm

Me: And yours?

First Born: Yeah, mine works great! LOVE. IT!

Your instant message session has ended

So there I am, in a St. Louis nice(r) hotel, stuffed with Fresh Mex, off the grid. No phone service, no text service, no mo-bye-el mail, about to head to the airport in the early morning. (I like to text the woman-he-gave-me with things like “at the airport” and “through security” and “boarding”)

And then, I sat in a chair and a big bird flew me through the air across the country.

How did they do it when they crossed America in covered wagons?

“Up in the Air”: Old Man Walkin’

While traveling this country’s great airports, I get to do one of my favorite things…people watch.  And watching people in airports is actually friggin hilarious.

I’m busy in the airport composing one of my last blog posts (Staring Man), drinking lousy coffee (there is no CoffeeBucks in this airport) and trying NOT to eat the whole bag of Cinnamon Bears (not small gummy bear like…bigger, chewier. Unsuccessful BTW) when two couples walk up to the gate area and plop their items down.

Now, mind you, the gate area is pretty vacant, I’ve been bumped due to overbooking (voluntarily and financially profitable!), so at my new gate I wait for my new flight (I get to wait 3 hours…which in my book is being properly prepared), basically by myself.  That is, until the understudy cast for Cocoon picks the empty seats near me to call their home while they wait. Nevermind that there are 16,000 other empty seats all within their bi/trifocls line of sight.

So…standing there…the ladies talk of whatever event they just came from, who said what and how dare those people wore what they wore. The men talk of doctors appointments and biopsies. Soon, the conversation turns to making an important call back home for some reason.

(No…I’m not eavesdropping they are speaking so loudly, I have no choice but to hear what they are saying…AND…remember…the are so close, the smell of Aqua Velva and White Shoulders is causing a migraine to announce itself via the floating spots in front of my eyes)

* Back to the important call Father Time has to make.

Ok…out comes the flip phone.  Nicely and very courteously he excuses himself to walk away, out of earshot, to make his important call.

* cue Huey singing “I’m gonna go BACK. IN. TIME!”

Flip (remember that?)…antenna…push buttons…phone to ear…then…shhhh…listen…do you hear that?  It’s a dial tone…there’s the touch tones…there’s the phone ringing on the other end…”Hello?”…”Hey!  I’m on my cellular phone in the airport.”…blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

* “Phones…where we’re going, we don’t need phones”

SPEAKER PHONE UP TO THE EAR!  I (though, not the rest of his cast-mates) can hear the entire conversation!  Yakkity yak…yadda yadda yadda.

*sigh.  This happened twice that day. TWICE!  Two different people, two different conversations…ALL. ON. SPEAKER PHONE.

Ok, ok..stop calling me an insensitive man, impatient and annoyed.  This has nothing to do with the age of my subject.  Ask anyone that really knows me, I love to sit and talk with those that have gone before.  There’s wisdom in those that fought in The War, and stories to hear when the sentence begins “I remember when all of this wasn’t here…”.  It’s the clueless hilarity of the conversation blaring on the other side of the ear and being unaware that the broadcast, rivaling the best talk show on AM radio, that makes me roll my eyes.  Not once, but twice!

And, it’s just isn’t Willford Brimley and his friends.  The apparent sucking of brain cells seems to happen as soon as people say goodbye to the driver they suckered into giving them a ride to the airport, and they cross through cloud of unfiltered Camel smoke and into the queue of their favorite discount airline.

Post: “Up in the Air”: Loss of Brain Cells…coming soon

“Up in the Air”: Another man’s opinion

Hey,

I had hoped to post another story about amazing people after Staring-Man, but came home to a bit of chaos.

The woman-He-gave-me had had (yes two hads) dental surgery and developed a dry socket, and I, of all things, pulled a muscle in my head!  (yeah I know)

BUT, fear not!  I travel next week. So I’m sure some rookie traveler will be in my way, and me in all my patience will begin to act out a skit, starring myself, in my head, that I will then translate to the blog page.

Until then…here’s a tweet from Tim Ferriss, Author of The Four Hour Work Week (stop reading me, click on link, buy book, change life).  Follow him on Twitter at @tferriss.

“Each time I eat airport food, a small part of my soul dies. I’m hoping Seattle coffee kills E. Coli and cures apathetic service.”

‘Nuff said!

“Up In The Air”: Staring-Man

Friday, April 2, 2010

I travel a lot.  And when I do, well, basically, everyone is in my way.  Yeah I know, you think I’m one of those travelers.  Actually I’m not.  The kinder-gentler Jeff comes out at the airport.  I can be patient. (stop it!).  But the cast of characters I encounter have a tendency to make me wonder if most people are actually raised by wolves.

This morning I arrived at the airport for my 10:30 am flight at about 6:00 am.  I couldn’t sleep (story of my life), so I got up and went.  Plus, knowing that it’s a holiday and the start of spring break for people…I figured I’d beat the crowd, or have plenty of time to wait in the security line if it was busy.

Side Note:  I love getting to the airport early.  Drives the-woman-he-gave-me nuts!

So at rental car return, I walk inside the building to get my receipt (no one was willing to be outside waiting for me to return my car at that hour) and I encounter Character #1 for the day: Staring-Man.

You know the kind.  The kind that stare at you when you walk in a room, and keep staring at you. You turn away, then come back, and they are still staring at you.  You turn away again, now using your spidey sense to determine if they have fixed their eyes somewhere else, when the time is right, you raise our eyes…and…there they are…again…staring!

I stood waiting while they helped him with his receipt.  Funny.  Staring-Man is also a talker. He and counter-boy were having a great time talking about…WHO CARES…I’ve got 4 hours til my flight leaves…let’s go let’s go let’s go!

He left the counter and got on the shuttle.  Good.

Counter-boy wants to talk to me…yeah, no.  I got something important to look at on my iPhone (Text Todd: “KENNY!”)  “Sign here…here and here….here’s your receipt”

“Thanks!”

I get on the shuttle, there’s Staring-Man. Staring.  “How are you?” he says (ugh…he’s talking to me…it’s 6ish a.m….Go. Away!)  “Fine, thanks…you?” (pleasedon’tanswer)

Shuttle driver:  “What airline?”  Staring-Man motions to me to mention my airline first… “Southwest”…Staring-Man says, “Delta”.

We pull up to the terminal to the SOUTHWEST door, I go to get up…and Staring-Man gets off the shuttle in front of me.  Delta is not at this stop.  What is he doing?…(now I’m worried he’s gonna stalk me and kill me).

He disappears. I check luggage…go to security…not too big of a crowd. Good, I’ll have time to get something to eat.

WAIT! There he is…coming up behind me (I’m gonna die)

I get to the front of the line.  Mr. checks-everyones-drivers-license clears me. I choose the closest and shortest we-care-about-terrorism-so-we’re-gonna-make-going-to-your-plane-take-forever lane…I get on the shuttle (because the plane gates are actually in another state!)

Ok…good…Staring-Man is…ON THIS SHUTTLE!  (someone tell my wife I love her)

Now…I have to go all the way from security, to the C gates.  Alphabetically…3 stops.  Whew! Delta Airline is at the B gates. Staring-Man will be a few hundred miles from me, while I’m at the C gates. But, Staring-Man doesn’t get off the shuttle at B. (fatherwejuss: I bequeath my iMac to Josh, my MacBook to Sarah, and all peripherals to Nathan -which he will sell and buy a new MacBook Pro-Kim gets everything else)

So now what?  Voice over: “The next stop is the C gates, please exit the shuttle and proceed to the escalators.”  I get off the shuttle, get on the escalator, look up and, yes, there he is, Staring-Man, doing what he does best.  Staring.  Ugh…

He’s goes right, I go left.  I get pancakes. (I love pancakes)

I never saw him again…but who knows, I haven’t gotten on my flight…with my luck, he’ll be the pilot.

Like I said, I haven’t gotten on my flight…there a plenty of more characters to tell you about (Technically-Challenged-Loud-Talking-Old-Man or Fat-Guy-Eating-Breakfast-Sandwich-Over-Laptop-and-Sitting-Next-to-Me, and there’s Do-You-Want-Sausage?-Sausage?-Do-You-Want-Sausage-Guy) Then there’ll be the characters on the plane that seem to choose to travel the same days as me!

Wish me luck!