Gonna Take That Big White Bird

We are back, the home come heroes. As a small glimpse of how it went, let me first explain that I was not able to update because the luxurious climes in which we were perched charged 75 cents per minute for internet access and even if we'd brought our laptop, we would've been charged 1.00 per minute. I'm sorry, I simply cannot type fast enough to keep it under a monthly paycheck.

I know this is going to be a long post and reading it will be something like watching the much cliched slideshow of someone else's vacation, so you may want to stop here...

The day before we left, we were scurrying around trying to complete our wardrobes, but we finally got it together. Just as I was going to sleep on Thursday, I remembered my last post about my sister's wedding being a true community affair and I realized that this one was, too. Tex loaned me her garment bag; Mr. Tex graciously surrendered his overcoat; Rawdog offered loafers to smooth out the comfy flying attire/easy checkpoint removal/dress code approved footwear problem; Purple Bunny offered sturdy suitcases; Overcoat prepped us on easy airport transitions and transportation and Adjective Queen even gave us a ride to the airport on her day off! And everyone wished us well. So thanks, for being such a nice community everybody!

So, first thing in the morning on Friday, we reenacted the frantic family-to-the-airport scene from Home Alone, tho on a much smaller scale. We were packed the night before, but you still always have those little things here and there; it came off pretty well, tho. I jumped up and quickly got ready and heated some water for instant coffee and oatmeal. Then I helped Super Giant Killer get dressed - brown pin-striped suit pants with gold belt, brown spandex shirt, and pearls - and we just ate breakfast and watched the frenzy reach crescendo until -knock, knock - the Queen was at the door. We got all loaded and pulled away but before we got to the main road, I had to stop. I am in no way OCD, but I am a 'checker' (it's because our house was broken into when I was little and I have never really gotten over it). In all the flurry, I couldn't remember turning off the stove when I heated the water and I had to go back and make sure. The Queen was so nice, although I know I will never live it down.

We got there in plenty of time and got through security just fine. But it soon became obvious to me that I was now old and the times have a-changed. One of the first things I noticed while watching our plane being prepared was that most of the ground crew looked like they had just returned to work from shooting a Kid Rock video and still others may have been at an X-Games event. Where once I watched guys in smart service-type uniforms waving their fluorescent signal lights, I now saw dudes in baggy pants, dreads, and Phish t-shirts whipping around in baggage trucks and refueling planes. Biased on my part to be sure, as here I was complaining about the dress code to which I had to defer, but I still say I'd rather it look like Air Force personnel were prepping my plane than wiggers.

Likewise, I would like to think some former USAF guys are flying the plane. Our 'equipment' out of OKC was one of those Embraer RJ things (aka a flying pencil) and it was full and cramped. I hate those little things. So, we're getting ready to leave and our pilot gets on and he sounds like he's 15. He tells us he's Matt and our co-pilot is Chris. I'm sorry, 'Matt and Chris' sound like two dudes cruising around in a tricked out Mustang, not flying me to Chicago. I want 'Robert and Edward' or better yet, 'Walter and Jack'.

So we start our takeoff and just as we get airborne, SGK squeals, "This is awesome! I've never been this happy in my life!" So, that was worth it. Then the flight attendant announces snacks can be purchased, including cashews for $2. SGK is deathly allergic to cashews. So I turned to YHWH, "did you bring her epipen?" Neither one of us brought it. We sort of panicked because she could die before they could land the plane if she'd gotten a small whiff of cashew dust. So YHWH asked the attendant if she could refrain from serving them, and she didn't want to do it, but she said she would (she even admitted frankly that since they are something the airline makes money on, she isn't allowed to not sell them). It's American Eagle by the way, for anyone who needs to know that they still serve things that can kill people. When we switched to American Airlines in Chicago, we told the crew and they laughed and said they quit serving allergens a long time ago and thought it was stupid for American Eagle to serve them. By the way, on the last leg of our return trip we were back on American Eagle and we told them ahead of time about the allergy and the attendant refused to refrain from selling cashews and said, "We've already told people they can have them! We can't tell them they can't have them now!" Once again, folks that's American Eagle. So, we just begged people around us to not eat their cashews if at all possible and thankfully the three people who purchased a snack pack agreed not to eat their cashews.

Once in Chicago, we had 10 minutes to change planes, which was great. But upon arrival at our gate we learned that rain in the east had cause a ripple effect in the traffic pattern and we were pushed back almost two hours. No problem. You can kill a few hours in the airport. But then we get this phone call. YHWH's folks were letting us know to come straight to their room for a champagne and cheese meet-and-greet in their suite so that the two families can get acquainted. Excuse me, aren't we already going to two weddings, a dinner and a reception? Besides, we already had plans to take the girls to a theme restaurant like Hard Rock or Jekyll and Hyde that first night. So we kicked our dread up a notch there in Chicago.

Eventually, we get to board our flight to LaGuardia, but since the traffic jam still existed on the east coast and an arrival needed our gate, we got to sit on the apron for about an hour and a half waiting to taxi! In front of us was a middle-aged couple from Milwacky who were apparently making their first trip without the kids and their first big weekend getaway to New York. What great fortune befell them as they found themselves seated next to a blowhard who, though not a New yorker himself, knew everything about the city. The Gotham Bloviate regaled them with tales of the wonderous nightlife, rundowns on each and every neighborhood and what to do there. On and on for the four hours it took to get to NYC. All the while the corduroy sport-coated male kept insturcting his secretary/wife to "write that down" whenever the Gotham Bloviate imparted tell of a particularly shiny gem. The Gotham Bloviate was not actually that onoxious by nature, thankfully, and what struck me most was the apparent unpreparedness of this seemingly uptight couple. Do they not have libraries in Milwacky? Or bookstores? Was it that hard to find a guidebook? I thought they might have just been playing nice, but they seemed really uneducated on the subject.

We finally made our approach to LaGuardia about 2.5 hours late, but the remnants of that bad weather were still lingering and our MD-80 was thrown about quite a bit. Even I, who likes rollercoasters and flying, had to lean back, close my eyes and clinch my stomach. We had a glimmer of hope tho, because we were sure the delay made us too late for the soiree. I mean, it was 5:30 and we still had to get over to Midtown in the middle of Friday rush hour. Meanwhile the elite members of my wife's family were attending the only one of the three weddings that 'counted' - the ceremony conducted by the family priest up in Westchester County.

We thought by arriving at our exclusive digs at 7:00 we would've missed the event, but no, they were just arriving themselves. I got through it OK because SGK kind of took over the event by regaling the Argentine Contingent (the bride's familia) with her knowledge of the Pampas and gauchos and also running through two of her karate workouts. As I said, we had promised the girls a trip to a theme restaurant, but YHWH's brother invited us to 'a little Italian place' for dinner and we were much encouraged to go along by the grownups. So, YHWH and I went with her sibs and the bride's to the home of the $30 bowl of spaghetti. In case you're wondering, yours truly did step up to the plate and charm the three people at the table previously unknown to him. He was quickly able to discern their passions and vocations and was able to converse across a wide breadth of topics. And dinner cost $454.

When you go to New York you learn quickly that you will be constantly fleeced of your cash. I'm really not a cheapskate, but it does get burdensome after a while. We had to pay to get our bags to the street at the airport. We had to tip the driver who took us to the New York Athletic Club, we had to tip the bellhop to take them in and the guy who took them to our room. At this 'little place' we had to tip the maitre d', then the wine guy and of course the waitress and the bathroom attendant and the coat check lady. I was constantly handing out dollar bills the whole weekend.

After dinner we collected the kids and returned to our little room. First let me say I am very grateful to the bride's family for putting us up for the weekend. The room didn't cost me a dime so I'm not complaining. But I was shocked that the rooms were so small. We had two double beds with about a foot on either side and a foot between them. There was not much decor to speak of and if I had been knocked unconscious out on the street and awakened in that room I would have guessed I was in a Clarion or Best Western. Not what I would've expected for something in the $400 a night range off Central Park. But like I said, the price was right.

So that was our first night. I'm shutting up now.