I travel for business a fair amount. I recently made Gold Status which means I get to use the special security lanes, in theory I can get upgraded, and I get first pick of seats. But let me tell you what it really means. It means I spend a lot of time on planes and in airports. I know what you're thinking...poor baby, why's he outraged? Let me begin.
Security Lines: OK People. The rules haven't changed in quite some time. No liquids over 3 oz in your carry on. Ladies - this means no cosmetics in your purse, no water bottles, no cans of coke, no 18oz bottle of lotion for a 1 hour flight. And for the last time, YES you have to take your shoes off, and NO you cannot carry on your pocket knife, your tools, and NO you can't leave your keys in your pocket or expect that your WWF championship belt, or Rodeo Buckle - whatever the fuck that is will make it through the screener.
The Terminal: I just spent $500 for a ticket to Atlanta - now I get the opportunity to pay $9.99 for Internet access while I wait for my delayed flight out of some other over crowded hub? Then I get to wander the terminal looking for a power outlet to charge my laptop. Typically I see one, and begin to move in, when suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see a fat guy in Khakis and a chic in suit dashing for the same outlet. I dive and go for a headfirst slide, but Fat Guy blocks the plate with ham sized calf and Suit Lady and I collide in a heap of power cords and spilled lattes.
The Plane: Being a medallion member, I usually get an exit row. The exit row is nice, don't get me wrong. But the exit rows are filled with the worst people. All the babes sit in the back of the plane on their way home from college. I get various forms of the travelling sales guy. Typically, I get FatGuy in the middle seat, his arms lapping over in a major violation of my airspace. I squeeze myself farther into the corner and try to work on my computer. FatGuy laughs uproariously at March of the Penguins on the monitor, but only when he isn't busy reading my screen. I type like I have alligator arms because I can neither extend my arms or bend my elbows as they are pinning by the cabin wall on one side and jello-like flesh on the other. Its a 4 hour flight, but don't worry - I was given 9 peanuts and a half a coke by a surly flight attendant. In the meantime, FatGuy spell checked my last emails and made some key grammar suggestions.
De-Planing - Seriously...how hard is it. We land and we are taxi-ing for like 10 minutes. Everyone knows the time is coming when we will begin deplaning. So my advice is to get your shit organized and get ready to get off the plane. But every time the plane stops and the bell goes off - it's complete pandemonium. Holy Shit....We're Were!!!(SURPRISE!!!) "Oh where's my bag, I need reorganize my purse, put my coat on, polish my championship belt." People are pulling suitcases down on each other, everyone stands up and blocks the aisle even though there's no where to go yet. When the do finally open the cabin doors - people stand around like cattle in a pen. Mooo, Mooo000...and Moooove it you slow piece of shit!! Get the fuck off the plane before Fatguy starts eating my right arm. He's been eyeing it for last 30 minutes after his peanuts ran out!!!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Reviews from the field.....The Ford Focus
Wow.
Those were the first words out of my mouth when I fumbled for the keys to open the trunk on a blustery Portland night. Clumsily I searched for the keyhole, shaking my head at disbelief that there was no button on the keychain.
Driving this car was like riding a time machine to the bad old days when the windows still operated via rollers, the rear view mirrors were operated by those Q-tip looking things, and the seats were controlled by a combination of cranks, levers and rods.
It did however have 3 features. They are as follows:
1) A modest, but just strong enough engine that gurgled more than it purred during acceleration
2) A single disk CD/MP3 Player - which I did not get the opportunity to test.
3) A convenient pen holder located just left of the shift nob. That's right, a molded indentation in the console with a plastic clip designed to hold (perfectly I might add) a Bic Round Stic Medium Ball Point Pen. Of all the features, of all the lack of features in this car, the purposeful inclusion, of what can only be the car equivalent of a pocket protector I find delightful!
The final and crowing feature for what has to be the nerdiest car I have driven. The PT may be the gayest, but you Ford Focus are with out doubt the Dorkiest!
I nominate this feature and this car for rental car of the year. That's right the Ford Focus. For making me walk around and manually locking all the doors. That's right, for making me look like an idiot as I struggled with the window roller at the Mc Donalds parking lot! For gurgling down the highway, while I wished I had a CD to play!
Congratulations!!!
Images to follow.
Those were the first words out of my mouth when I fumbled for the keys to open the trunk on a blustery Portland night. Clumsily I searched for the keyhole, shaking my head at disbelief that there was no button on the keychain.
Driving this car was like riding a time machine to the bad old days when the windows still operated via rollers, the rear view mirrors were operated by those Q-tip looking things, and the seats were controlled by a combination of cranks, levers and rods.
It did however have 3 features. They are as follows:
1) A modest, but just strong enough engine that gurgled more than it purred during acceleration
2) A single disk CD/MP3 Player - which I did not get the opportunity to test.
3) A convenient pen holder located just left of the shift nob. That's right, a molded indentation in the console with a plastic clip designed to hold (perfectly I might add) a Bic Round Stic Medium Ball Point Pen. Of all the features, of all the lack of features in this car, the purposeful inclusion, of what can only be the car equivalent of a pocket protector I find delightful!
The final and crowing feature for what has to be the nerdiest car I have driven. The PT may be the gayest, but you Ford Focus are with out doubt the Dorkiest!
I nominate this feature and this car for rental car of the year. That's right the Ford Focus. For making me walk around and manually locking all the doors. That's right, for making me look like an idiot as I struggled with the window roller at the Mc Donalds parking lot! For gurgling down the highway, while I wished I had a CD to play!
Congratulations!!!
Images to follow.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Disturbing Things I Have Heard Myself Say...
I realized last night as I was trying to get my daughter to sleep, that if I ever heard the phrases I was using, coming from the mouth of a boyfriend.....I might have to kill him.
I was trying to convince her to take the pacifier. The struggled sounded like this:
"You know you want it"
"You'll like it...it'll help you fall asleep."
"Put it in your mouth and suck on it!"
"Come on Sugar, Just Trrryyyy it!!"
"You'll make Daddy really happy if keep it in your mouth."
"Come on...Take IT!!"
"Don't spit it out."
"Ohhhh....you were so close, why'd you do that?!"
This is about the point in the struggle when my Filth-O-Meter went off in my head. I suddenly felt very, very dirty and as I looked down at my now quiet baby girl I was filled with dread over her coming of age and the certain knowledge that filthy little boys like me would be trying to get in her pants. I know she's only 5 weeks old, but I don't think its too early to buy a shotgun and start building my reputation around town. If word gets out that just like any other Dad I'm protective of my daughter, but overtime they all realize I'm also crazy and heavily armed - it might dissaude those hormone charged rascals of more sinister intent. Then I can deal with the brave and foolish ones who come to my doorstep one at a time....
I was trying to convince her to take the pacifier. The struggled sounded like this:
"You know you want it"
"You'll like it...it'll help you fall asleep."
"Put it in your mouth and suck on it!"
"Come on Sugar, Just Trrryyyy it!!"
"You'll make Daddy really happy if keep it in your mouth."
"Come on...Take IT!!"
"Don't spit it out."
"Ohhhh....you were so close, why'd you do that?!"
This is about the point in the struggle when my Filth-O-Meter went off in my head. I suddenly felt very, very dirty and as I looked down at my now quiet baby girl I was filled with dread over her coming of age and the certain knowledge that filthy little boys like me would be trying to get in her pants. I know she's only 5 weeks old, but I don't think its too early to buy a shotgun and start building my reputation around town. If word gets out that just like any other Dad I'm protective of my daughter, but overtime they all realize I'm also crazy and heavily armed - it might dissaude those hormone charged rascals of more sinister intent. Then I can deal with the brave and foolish ones who come to my doorstep one at a time....
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Just Shit Already!!!!
As I type this, my one month old daughter sleeps in her carrier on my chest...for now. The past few nights have been some what concerning as she hasn't slept great. The reason she isn't sleeping great, I am quite confident is because she hasn't shat in 3 Freaking Days!!!
I never thought I would fervently be hoping, cheering and waiting for a bowel movement. (mine or someone else's). Every gasp, every grunt, every wail in the night - I think....this could be it - this could be the time!! I race in, diaper in hand, only to discover her face all screwed up and her legs thrashing. I've tried to help too. I've held her upside down, patted her back, fed her mom Mexican - all no avail thus far.
Unless you've lived it, you have now idea how important this Poo is. It's so important, I just capitalized Poo. Until she works it out, there will be no routine in the house. Without any routine, the smallest tasks become challenges. Sleep is by shift. Eating is one handed. Hearing the TV is next to impossible. Sleeping next to my wife and even the faintest possibility of sex is so far off, you couldn't see it with the Hubble Telescope. I thought an unchaste thought yesterday, and the baby started crying.
Come on Kid....Just Shit Already!!!
I never thought I would fervently be hoping, cheering and waiting for a bowel movement. (mine or someone else's). Every gasp, every grunt, every wail in the night - I think....this could be it - this could be the time!! I race in, diaper in hand, only to discover her face all screwed up and her legs thrashing. I've tried to help too. I've held her upside down, patted her back, fed her mom Mexican - all no avail thus far.
Unless you've lived it, you have now idea how important this Poo is. It's so important, I just capitalized Poo. Until she works it out, there will be no routine in the house. Without any routine, the smallest tasks become challenges. Sleep is by shift. Eating is one handed. Hearing the TV is next to impossible. Sleeping next to my wife and even the faintest possibility of sex is so far off, you couldn't see it with the Hubble Telescope. I thought an unchaste thought yesterday, and the baby started crying.
Come on Kid....Just Shit Already!!!
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