let's see if I can backdate to make up for lost time this weekend...
Though I have never been very fond of birds, I have always had an affinity for
Birdcages. This image fits my stories quite well as you will see, if you read on.
View other poignant and beautiful photos at
Jenn Smith Photography on etsy.
So, as for the flight of DOOOOOM, I finally made it to California, only 4 hours late. The east coast was having some particularly nasty storms on Friday which lead to the closing of the airport in Newark where I was to catch my connecting flight to the west. Fortunately i had not left Hartford yet, so they were able to reroute me on a different airline to get here via Minnesota. Packed planes and undesirable seating do not make for a happy traveler. I felt trapped most of the day, with a very short attention span that did not allow for reading a book or even a magazine to pass the time. A few incidents during the day stick out in my mind :
1) In the first leg of waiting for a plane I found myself sitting in the airport bar, unobtrusively in the back, because they had at least a TV. The airport is wireless so soon I was being surrounded by laptop computers owned by commuters who were also stuck from the weather. I offered my seat to a gentleman who needed to charge his computer, but he declined, requesting only that he be able to share my table rather than displace me entirely whilst eating my airport sammich and apple. Mindlessly listening to the TV for any connection to the world outside of the airport, I was vaguely aware of the report on Senator John McCain and his past indiscretions. I care very little for politics and even less about the affairs of politicians, but the gentleman on the other side of me turns and says something to the effect of "I give him credit for having a young lady in his past, he isn't exactly a Romeo" It made me laugh.
2) After finishing my brunch and bidding my table mates adieu, I headed over to the gate again, within a few minutes we were moved to yet another gate... but that's not important as it happened quite frequently this day. This part of the story is about babies. Yep, babies... other than the cringe of knowing that if they're sitting at your gate, it probably means that they'll be on the plane with you, and inevitably crying, I was not too concerned by the presence of the youngster. At this point in the story it was happy, and quiet, and wobbly, laying on its back, on the floor, playing with a small blanky while its mother was fishing around in her bag. Several people walked by and I became increasingly aware of the possibility of baby hazards, I mean, someone could trip on that and really hurt themselves! Perhaps I have a moderate amount of ESP, perhaps I just have a sense for the inevitable, but soon enough, a man comes around the corner to sit in the row we are in. He himself was at a safe distance from the perils of floorbaby, but his rolling luggage was not. As his bag skimmed the baby's head and fluffed a tuft of the baby's hair, I SCREAM OUT, "BABY!!!!" and point, horrified at the images passing through my head of baby-squishage. He says, "Oh, I didn't see that there, thank you." Neither he, nor the mother seemed too concerned by the possibility of damage, to either the baby or the luggage. Needless to say, the baby remained untouched and no crying ensued.
3)The first plane ride into Minnesota was uneventful, of what I can recall. The second plane ride into California proved to be much more interesting as a very young gentleman who was clearly soused and smelled of Jack Daniels even from three rows away stumbled onto the plane with a garbage bag full of clothes and blankets, and another full of what appeared to be homework right before take-off. Irritation of the flight attendants and the constant up and down to the bathroom seemed to be his plan for the trip. Even after 5 hours and a short nap he still hadn't recovered from any of his intoxication (which had been furthered by his insistence for more alcohol mid-flight). Turbulence from the California winds sent him into a rendition of Bob Marley's Three Little Birds, as follows: "Don't worry, 'bout a thing, 'cause every little thing, is gonna be alright" Over and over, since that is all he could apparently remember. As I was heading to pick up my Enterprise rental car, I noticed the TSA surrounding him and suggesting that he find a hotel for the evening.
I am fairly adept at directions, in Connecticut. I can honestly say that having a GPS unit in the rental car in California is a wonderful commodity. Being that I was tired, and had no clue where I was going, a little voice telling me when to switch lanes was a necessary technological advance. I reached the boy around 8pm and we headed out to dinner. Considering that I had been up since 3am California time, it also meant that I was in the turbo-babble mode of sleepy-tiredness by the time which I'm sure he enjoyed profusely. Thai food and sleep were the only things in my repertoire for the rest of the evening.