Iowa Wrapup
Day 1: Monday
As I was watching the last 6hrs of "13 Days" last night, I realized that my life too, was like the Cuban Missile Crisis. Maybe not so much with nuclear weapons and the President involved, but pretty much the same otherwise. Mostly in the way of having day after day suck, not getting much sleep and all the long, sharp, pointy things about.
I didn’t quite get all 13 days, but there were 4 days of hell last week. Kinda like I never get all 12 Days of Christmas in before I have to go on yet another Tri-State Killing Spree, thereby guaranteeing no presents from Santa "Quick to jump to judgement" Claus. Anyway, as most bad weeks do, it started on Monday. Wait, that’s every week. Oh yeah, there’s a funny coincidence.
And so there I was, in the office. I had managed to get all my stuff together – maps, papers, agendas, contact numbers, whoppee cushion (just kidding) and was packing. Of course, by now I’m late and need to get to the airport 3.7days early to get through Security Level: Rambo, so off I rush. No sooner do I get down the street than I realize I need to sh… So, I do what any good friend would, I go to Chris’s house and, in the words of a good friend (and I swear I’m not making this up), quote someone famous with, "huddles masses, yearning to be free." Well, I freed the masses alright. A little freedom for everyone.
At which point Carlson is wondering if I came to their place, just to ‘liberate’. Of course not. I also came to steal a jacket. By the way, if you ever want to confuse someone, just call them and ask them where they think you’re calling from. When you respond, "Your closet", the laughter more than makes up for the diversion in trip.
The only good thing about all this was the recent fear of flying actually enabled me to park in the parking deck, instead of Park and Ride: Kansas (see prior ‘bitter about traveling email’). I do actually make it into the terminal without anyone’s fingers going into any orifices they weren’t supposed to. So of course the check-in line is long. Which is where I get to play two of my all-time favorite airport waiting games, "Sit on your uncomfortable luggage and have the handle up your ass", and "cry yourself to sleep as someone’s kid repeatedly rams you with his toy plane/car/bazooka". I was a trooper though and resisted the urge to stuff the kid in my luggage and then return to sitting on them both.
Actually going through the security wasn’t bad. Seriously. The problem is this was a mixed blessing because now I had close to 2hrs to kill. Dammit. Of course one way to kill time is to take my office game, "see how much fat I can stuff into my body" on the road. Amazingly RDU actually has some food. Very limited, but better than hot dogs. After killing those 10mintues, I was left in a quandary, find an airport chair and try to sleep in it, or call friends and make them amuse me. As it turns out the first has been scientifically proven to be impossible. At least not without drugs or being hit over the head with a blunt object. Therefore, I resorted to "Operation: Amuse Clay". This operation is battle-tested and was used repeatedly throughout the trip with much success.
So I’m off to my connection in Minneapolis (MSP). Of course that doesn’t appear to be really near Moline, but then I’m sure as hell not one to ask for directions. Flying over Minnesota providing a nice glimpse into their culture. Like most mid-western places, very square. They did have dense population pockets and lots of big trees so that was cool. But check this out, someone had an outdoor, in-ground pool. WTF? Was this to be used as their own personal ice-rink?
That seemed odd. But so did the conversation between the pilot and flight attendant.
FA: So, you look better
P: Yeah, I think I’m getting through it.
FA: So now problems now?
P: Na, kinda in that delirious stage now.
But now I’m walking off the plane and staring at the babe baggage handler. Just didn’t seem to fit. Well, I didn’t have time to get over that confusion before I was faced with the confusion in the MSP mall. I mean airport. No, I mean mall. I don’t know which it was: an airport with a mall, or a mall with an airport attached, but either way it was big and weird. Still, I like to shop, so I wasn’t going to reject this situation out of hand. They had more stores than the actual ‘mall’ in Beaver Dam. I did find one good thing about airport malls: babes. Another is better food choices. They had actual restaurants in there. So I decide to try this sleek looking one that had some seafood and whatnot.
So I go into this nice little restaurant and get some fish and some rice soup. The fish was ok. The soup was a bit more interesting. First, there was no rice in it, which was odd to me considering the name. Next, it is supposed to have "chunks of turkey". This was a slight misnomer as well, as it didn’t have "chunks" plural, but just one "chunk". However, it was not like I was cheated, because this "chunk" was approximately an entire turkey, somehow stuffed into this little cup of soup. It was amazing. Aside from Thanksgiving, I don’t think I’ve eve seen as much turkey at once. To add to the amusement of this little place, they played music. Off course to loud, but also bad taste. For instance, I was forced to listen to The Bee Gees (and not Stayin’ Alive, which would have been cool), "You Say it’s Your Birthday" and the odd choice of the day, "The Time Warp" (from Rocky Horror). The whole experience was simply baffling.
Now after this I pass two min-arcades and notice that they do in fact have Ms Pac-Man, but they are occupied. For those who haven’t followed along well, I play Ms Pac-Man only as a tribute to Carlson’s insane compulsive fetish for a game where a fat, yellow man is idolized for eating Ghost (shit) pellets. So instead, I go to Round 2 of Operation: Amuse Clay. After awhile of sitting there being on of those guys that looks like he’s talking to himself, it’s time to fly again. Gee, won’t this be fun?
Turns out not. Two main factors ruined this little leg of the trip. The first, is a cruel joke by the airline industry to poke fun at our nation’s public schools: Airline Crossword Puzzles. You can’t solve these things. Hell, you can’t even pronounce half the words used in the clues. In my particular magazine, three people had already started the puzzle. The first person had given it a valiant effort and gotten a few. The next person had added a few more, but there was still a lot of space open. The last person, obviously a small child, had simply scribbled nonsense in some of the blanks. After I was done (Ie, about ready to kill someone for eve printing this puzzle), I noticed an alarming trend: that child’s scribble was better than any of my answers.
Which brought me to realize both the good and bad of the next torture: prop planes. At this point I’m irritated and need to relax. And in this case, the plane itself actually helped. That’s due in large part to the flimsiness of the aircraft, the windiness of the mid-west and the crazy pilot flying the plane. Yes, I’m talking about a free in-flight, chair massage. The damn seat was actually vibrating. I’m not kidding. This was probably the best massage IU had ever gotten actually. You had to stay lose and move your weight a little bit forward, but it was worth it. Unfortunately it really only worked on your back and I was damn tempted to just stand up and put my ass on it, but I didn’t.
Unfortunately that same combination of aerial incompetence was also the source of my other pain during the flight. I don’t even think I was fearful of dying, you know, like in a crash or hi-jacking, so much as I was wishing for it. Besides the eerie sounds and sensations, the flying seemed a bit weird. Now, I don’t know a lot about flying, but I know that when turning the plane you tilt the whole plane a bit which causes a turn. I’m guessing the angle of tilt might be anywhere from 15-45 degrees. We appeared to have completed several successful ‘barrel rolls’ during this trip.
I don’t think I’m kidding. At one point I was actually tempted to let a little spit out of my mouth to see if it would ‘fall’ and hit the guy across the row from me. Five will get you ten that it would. But Captain ‘Spin’ wasn’t done there. Landing seemed to be a challenge for him as well. Have you ever drive on ice? You know, the car sometimes just looses the road and sways back and forth. So did our plane. What is it with these pilots?
No babes in Moline (MLI) though so I’m back to familiar ground. Hardly anyone in the airport. Fine by me, gets me to baggage claim quicker and out the door quicker. Or it would have, if my bags had been there. Lost luggage, they say probably on next flight. Ok, not going to get excited, just get my rental car and check in at hotel. By this time though it’s too late to go play disc golf. Damn. Which was actually ok, because something else was wrong. That’s right, it was freezing. Dammit. Yeah, I know last week was a bit cooler for most the US than normal, but the high was 58 and it was windy. Very windy. Which turned out to be ok because it gave me an excuse to go shopping. Oh yeah.
After I left the mall with my new winter coat (25% off mind you), I go to hotel and check in. No word on bags. Out to dinner, then back to hotel. I call the airport to find out about bags.
"It’s in, but a 3rd party courier handles deliveries and they’re closed for the night."
"So, what now?"
"They’ll call you in the morning, should be there by 8:30am."
Well, at least they’re there, but now this is going to through off my schedule. You see, now we enter the ‘driving’ portion of my trip. Tuesday morning I’m supposed to drive up to Dubuque (DBQ), which is about 1.5hrs drive and spend the day there in meetings (woohoo). Then Wednesday we leave at 5am (yes, that’s right, 5am) to drive 3.5hrs over to Ames for more meetings. Then back to DBQ, then drive back to MLI. So a delay is not good.
But all I could do then was sleep. But I find it hard to sleep in a room that’s about as cold as the outside and which has a window with non-closable curtains. And the Skins are already down 465-0 at the half. 3 cheers for Mondays.