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My Trip to Kansas City, MO
Okay, here it is: my big trip to Kansas City. In deference to the fanatical cult of the lj-cut, I'm using lj-cut. There are 13 large photos, all-ha ha!-hosted on Cox. Correction, 17 photos. This is a biggie, folks. You Have Been Warned.
This was a business trip; only the second big one I've ever made. The first was to the GeoAccess conference in Florida, which was in 2000 if I recall correctly. I only got to see the hotel. And an astronaut who gave an inspirational speech. It was okay (and the orange juice was great; I drank a grove), but I would have liked to see more. I was determined not to make that mistake this time.
This trip was to the headquarters of GeoAccess in Kansas, for some training on new software. I flew economy on Southwest Airlines; it was mandatory (my company requires employees to use their (i.e. the company's) travel agency). The round trip flight was incredibly cheap, just under $200 from Providence RI to Kansas City, MO. Possibly it was extra cheap because none of the flights were direct.
I've flown a few times in my life, mostly to and from college: Allegheny College in Meadville, PA, with the other end of the trip usually JFK Airport in New York City. Remind me to tell you about a horrific and memorable bus ride I took home one time. I also flew to Europe once with my family. I've probably flown 10-14 times altogether, totaling about 30-40 hours in the air.
I like flying, as it happens. I get a little nervous beforehand, if I haven't flown in a while, but unlike some I don't have a fear of flying. Perhaps it's because I love to dream about flying, I don't know. I always take a window seat if I can.
The take-offs and landings are the most fascinating parts of the flight to me, partly because I know that they're the most dangerous - particularly the landings. When I see the ground below I always try to figure what height would mean inevitable death if we crashed, and what height might be survivable. And I always find myself laughing at some point after we're well in the air or safely on the ground. I don't know why. I don't think it's nervousness, because it feels too good.
I like the lower heights, oddly enough; the first few minutes after takeoff when you can see the buildings and cars most clearly. Extreme heights, when we're way above the clouds, make me feel a little agoraphobic. Fortunately I don't have agoraphobia. No, that doesn't necessarily make any sense.
Incidentally, this was the furthest west I've ever been. My previous record was Detroit, MI, which we reached by driving; we were visiting my uncle (he's also my godfather) before looping around to go to Allegheny.
Anyway, Teri drove us to T.F. Green, AKA Providence Airport; fortunately she picked a good route, so it only took about twenty minutes. The afternoon was dim and cloudy. The airport itself was small, but neat and decent-looking. Teri dropped me off at the Southwest entrance; I'll spare you the goodbyes I said to her and Sebastian. They drove off, leaving me very sad.
I was flying with "ticketless" check-in, which went smoothly. The airport was almost empty, so I was the only one at the counter. After that I hung around for a while in the front area, and talked to Teri and Sebastian on my cell phone, but eventually the time came for me to go through security.
The new security at the airport was a little bit more intimidating than usual, and I must confess that it crossed my mind that I might be on a Bush enemies list; even that I might not be allowed to fly. But I guess I'm not that important, which is probably a good thing. I'd put my wallet, cell phone, digital camera, and digital recorder in a clear baggy along with all my pocket change and anything else metal, which the security guy at the metal detector really appreciated. They made me take off my belt (the buckle is a pair of large metal rings) and put that through the scanner as well, along with my jacket and shoes! Thus the terrible belt-buckle-and-shoe threat was averted.
I had about a two hour wait before takeoff. I'd anticipated long waits, though, and had come prepared with a bunch of books, all of them by Lawrence Watt-Evans, who is one of maybe three "new" (i.e. post-1980) modern genre writers that doesn't suck. Hmm, I just noticed that he does a bit of blogging. Interesting. I also killed some more time on the phone with Teri, and then on a whim asked some nearby security people if I could take some pictures. To my amazement, they said yes.
A plane, not my plane
This was not my plane, I believe, but I'm not 100% sure. They all look the same, anyhow; all of my flights were 737s. Some of the people around stared at me a little - I guess they were surprised that I was allowed to take pictures - but nobody said anything.
An Old Friend
While I was walking around in the airport and feeling lonely, I suddenly saw something surprising: our wedding caterer! Or rather, their truck. I hadn't know that they did airline food as well. Unfortunately none of my flights offered anything more than peanuts, Ritz "Air Crisps", and Sprite. But I snapped a picture just for the heck of it.
The flight took off just after 5PM on November 17th (Monday evening). It was about two and a half hours to Chicago Midway. I was surprised that the plane was comparatively empty; I had a row to myself, and the rows behind and in front of me had only a single person in them as well. Which was probably a good thing, because my seat was slightly defective. You know when they say "Return your seats to an upright position"? Well, the catch on mine was broken, so when the plane started pushing upwards my seat reclined whether I liked it or not. Funny, that happened on a later flight in a different plane, too. I guess it's not really that big a deal.
The Southwest people were quite nice, and seem to have made a signature out of comedy on the in-flight announcements. I can't remember for sure if Southwest is the airline run by that union-busting bastard (I forget his name), but it probably is.
Chicago Midway seems like the typical big-city international airport. It had people-movers, which I always enjoy. I walked briskly down one, and almost lost my footing at the end when I came off. But there wasn't anything worth taking a picture of. I picked up dinner at a place called Gold Coast Dogs, which was pretty horrible.
I hadn't needed to get off the plane, incidentally; it was continuing on to KC. But it was going to be about a 50-minute wait, so I decided to set foot in Chicago. The flight and boarding crew were really nice, and told me that I wouldn't have to wait in line again to get back on. They had me leave my bag and jacket in my seat, to save it.
The next leg of the flight was even emptier than the first; the rows ahead and behind me were totally empty! It was another hour and a quarter until we landed safely at KC International Airport. As airports go, it was pretty bad. Desolate and small, not even as nice as T.F. Green. Granted, it was after ten o'clock; and I'm mostly used to the largest airports, like JFK and Heathrow. Still, this wasn't encouraging.
I was really tired, so I called a cab to get me to the hotel.
I might have been able to rent a car, incidentally, but that can be a problem when you only have debit cards; sometimes they'll take them, sometimes they won't. In any case, I'm lousy at finding my way around in strange places. So rather than get lost while dead tired and far from home, I took cabs.
It was a surprisingly long and expensive drive to the hotel, which was the Sheraton Suites at the Plaza in Kansas City, MO. When the travel agency booked my room they'd had to go for a suite, since all of the regular rooms were already available. As suites go, it was okay; a long living room with a couch, TV, and desk, the usual bathroom, plus a small bedroom with a high and not very big bed. There was a TV in the bedroom as well. An odd thing about the room is that thanks to a big mirror above the bed and another on the closet door, you could see the TV from the bathroom. Thanks to the double-mirroring, you could even read text on the screen. I couldn't help but wonder if that was intentional.
The living room of my suite
So I went to sleep.
I got up early the next day; the time difference meant I had an extra hour, but I didn't want to be late to class. Particularly because I wasn't sure how long it would take to get there. I'd called and left a message for the cab I'd taken the night before, but he didn't show so I got a cab at the hotel.
I should mention that I was a little worried about money. I had to pay for all of my expenses myself, and put in for reimbursement afterwards; not a great way to do things. We had the money this time (unlike the last time I'd been sent on a trip, which is a long and unpleasant story that is best forgotten), but money was a little tight and if the cabs were too expensive I might have come up a little short towards the end of my stay.
Fortunately it was much cheaper to go from the hotel to Lenexa, KS, than to the airport. The guy driving the cab was quite cool (and he may be reading this, in which case: Hi, Dan!), and told me a lot of interesting stuff about the area. For example, Kansas City MO is Democratic, while KC KS is Republican. The two cities are in some sense actually one (it's split by the state line), but because they have separate administrations that oppose each other they don't have coordinated city services like public transportation. I was frankly surprised (and pleased) to hear that ANYWHERE in the region was Democratic these days.
I was pretty early, so Dan dropped me off at a restaurant within walking distance of the GeoAccess building for breakfast. It was attached to a Holiday Inn, but it wasn't owned by them; there was a buffet, but since I wasn't that hungry I just had wheat toast, home fries, and orange juice. Then I started off walking across the back lots of office buildings towards GeoAccess.
I didn't really know much about Kansas City and Kansas, of course. Pretty much all I know about Kansas was from The Wizard of Oz, and the little I knew about Kansas City was from some of Robert A. Heinlein's stuff (as I recall, he grew up there, and he wrote about it fairly extensively in Time Enough For Love). But certainly the area wasn't the flatter-than-a-pancake tornado alley I might have expected. In fact, in a lot of ways it was quite like my own New England. Except perhaps five to ten degrees warmer. The temperature was in the 50's, which meant that I was pretty comfortable.
During my walk, I came across a pretty and unusual-looking small tree. I didn't have anything better to do, so I took a picture. There were a couple of people in a nearby office building who probably think that I'm insane.
An odd-looking but pretty tree
The sun was rising, and some of the foliage was absolutely lovely - again, a surprise of sorts. I think I knew that leaves change colors in other places besides New England, but as you can see in the next picture, seeing is believing.
Beautiful foliage! Is this really Kansas?!
I won't inflict photos of the training on you. It was a bunch of computers, six people in the class, lunch was provided, the usual stuff. I learned a lot. We finished at 4PM. Then it was back to the hotel and time for my one real chance to see Kansas City.
I should mention that I was in an area of KC called the Plaza. It's gentrified, I think; built up and beautified, probably as much to encourage tourism as anything else. If so, it succeeded - at least for me. I've been in gentrified areas before, and this was far and away the most beautiful I've ever seen, as well as the largest. It was practically European! Unfortunately my pictures don't really do it justice.
I wanted to get as much of the flavor of Kansas City as possible in the few hours that I had. I also had three specific destinations in mind: a Barnes & Nobles (I was running out of reading material for the trip home), an FAO Schwartz (a present for Sebastian), and K.C. Masterpiece, which was one of the most famous barbecue places in town. I didn't have a map or guide to the city, although I could have picked one up in the lobby. I just walked out the main door and started wandering. Here's what happened:
The Blue Stairs
The Blue Stairs. Where do they go? Why are they so pretty? I had to find out. Up, up, up I climbed, passing a pretty blonde woman who was talking into her cell phone (I left her out of the picture because I didn't want any trouble with anyone). Half-way up on the left of the stairs, where the orange tiled roof is, there was a nice little outdoor eating area which was part of a small restaurant. Above on the right were some shops. Up I climbed, up up up...to:
Beyond the Blue Stairs
Okay, not so thrilling. But there's something about being in a place only once (probably, although I'd like to go back for a holiday) that makes it hard for me not to find out what lies beyond that next turn. So there was an office building, and a parking lot, and a strange white thing built into a wall for no reason that I can see. I like pointless, decorative things for some reason, so I snapped a shot and turned around. I wish I had a zoom on my camera, so I could have gotten more detail. Oh well - maybe next time.
I went back down the stairs and walked on down the street.
I was surprised at the beauty and age of the architecture. It's the arrogant New Englander in me, I suppose, but I was expecting most of the buildings to be newish, tasteless, and dull. Instead a lot of it was elegant and lovely. Below is a sunset view down the street of a castle in the distance. Note the crenellations.
A Castle at Sunset
A bit further down the road I found the Barnes & Noble I'd been looking for. I probably don't need to say this, but I prefer to avoid big chains; if I'd had the time, I would have loved to have searched the city for used book stores. But there simply wasn't time, and I desperately needed more reading material for the long flight home the next day. Did I mention that my planes had neither movies nor audio? The movies I could live without, but I was sorry about the audio - one of the more memorable things about flying to England on British Air was listening to the in-flight "radio" channels. They were all on tape, of course, and repeated every so often, but they were fun. Oh well.
Oh yes, the Barnes & Noble: It was odd. There were four stories, with a large open space through the center. From the top floor you could look way, way down to the bottom level in the basement. It was really pretty cool. But I didn't take a picture. Sorry! I bought Lawrence Watt-Evan's The Dragon Society in paperback and continued back down the street again. Oh, but I should mention that the clerks in the B&N were remarkably polite and friendly. Maybe it's me - I'm a very cheerful tourist, looking for any excuse to talk to anyone - but it seems as if the people in New England are the rudest in the world. At the hotel, almost everyone said "Good morning" and really seemed to mean it.
Back to the street. There were more fountains in Kansas City then I've ever seen. There's one in particular that I really regret not photographing, even though it didn't have any water in it: a very small one, a sort of vertical elongated oval of marble with a cherub which was set in a very out-of-the way corner on a wall, next to a small door. But it was pretty dark by the time I found it, so it probably wouldn't have come out that well. Here's another fountain that I liked very much:
Poseidon Rides Again
Sometime around then I found the FAO Schwartz. It was hard to miss, with that ten-foot tall golden bear in the doorway. Kitschy, I know, but I like that sort of thing. There's an FAO Schwartz not far from where I work, and I'd have rather gone to a local independent shop, but there just wasn't time to find one. The clerk was almost too helpful, but eventually I found the perfect toy for Sebastian: a wooden train with pegs on the cars, and carved wooden shapes on the pegs. I'll give it to him for Christmas, and he'll love it. Best of all, it was small enough to carry conveniently.
Did I mention that I prefer to travel very light? Teri thinks I'm insane, but I insisted on packing only enough to fill a very small carry-on bag. I brought all the necessities, of course, changes of clothes and personal amenities, but if I can avoid checking a bag I'm much more comfortable. The bag was stuffed, of course, but I managed not to burst the seams.
I'm not doing commercials for FAO Schwartz here, so again, no picture.
I'd really hoped to find a pretty charm or present for Teri, and even some sort of souvenir for myself, but I couldn't find anything. The stores in the Plaza were the most expensive sort: Saks Fifth Avenue, that sort of thing. Pretty, but way out of my price range. Incidentally, I was surprised at how empty the whole area was.
Here's another fountain. This one was in a courtyard; an outdoor eating area for a restaurant, I think. The sun was close to setting, but I was still able to get decent light. I've found that I get better pictures outside with natural light.
City of Fountains
I wasn't really hungry, but since I was getting tired I decided that it was time to get something to eat before going back to the hotel. For once my luck held: near the fountain was an illuminated map. It showed that K.C. Masterpiece was only a few steps down the block in a different direction.
Dinner, Tuesday Night
I'd forgotten that it was only 5:20 local time, so the place was pretty empty. I ordered an appetizer of freshly-made potato chips (they make their own, and Dan had recommended them): they were excellent, thick and very crunchy. For the main meal I decided to go whole-hog, so to speak, and ordered a custom version of a sandwich that I like very much at a local BBQ place: half brisket, half pork.
What I got was nothing like the hot-n-juicy sandwiches at the Memphis Roadhouse, though. Theirs have a lot of barbecue sauce and a very strong flavor, on a roll; they're not that big, so I can usually eat at least two (while I'm at it, I should mention that in my experience only one out of three times at the Memphis do you get a really good sandwich; the rest of the time you either get a so-so one, or a really bad one. The last time I ate there I found TWO large pieces of bone in my sandwich, one the size of a finger-joint, and I haven't been back since).
This sandwich was 3/4 of a pound, on sliced white bread; bread, pork, bread again, brisket, and then bread. It had some barbecue sauce, but not much. Which was probably just as well, because I have to admit that K.C. Masterpiece sauce is not particularly to my taste. There was a bottle at my table, and it was exactly the same as the ones they sell in the supermarket: sweet and bland. The meat was a little scary-looking, too; big pieces of fat stuck out here and there. For some reason I find fat totally disgusting, despite the fact that it's one of my major components. That is, I'm fat. Get it?
I let the sandwich sit while I worked on the fries that came with it. They were really excellent, large, crisp, and well-seasoned. The waiter was almost too solicitous, bringing me another Coke each time I was only half-way through the previous one. I've never had that much service before! But after a while he seemed to be getting anxious about the sandwich. After he asked me if everything was all right, I felt I had to at least try a few bites.
Okay, I used to be incredibly picky and finicky. And compared to most people, I still am. But a lot less so since I met Teri. She broke me of some of my bad habits (only some, though). So I kind of closed my eyes, picked up half the sandwich, and dug in.
And it was surprisingly good. Quite different from the Memphis hot-n-juicy, with a much more subtle flavor, but that great smoky quality was definitely there. And the fat wasn't really an issue. Looking at it grossed me out, but with my eyes closed there was no problem. The whole thing was far too much for me to finish, though, so I had the second half wrapped to take home. I had some crazy idea that I could bring it on the plane and give Teri a taste of Kansas City, or something. Yes, there are times when I'm not entirely rational.
I tried taking a picture inside the restaurant, by the way, but it didn't really come out. The photo above I snapped after dinner, and as you can see it was dark outside by then. I took quite a few more photos than I'm posting here, of course, but most of them were pretty dull compared to these. Scary, isn't it?
Another lovely fountain.
Nymphs, or Mermaids?
It was almost eerie, how empty the streets were; notice how there's almost no one in any of my shots? Admittedly, it was a Tuesday night, but I can't imagine Boston or New York being this empty between 5-7 PM at this time in the holiday season. I was asked for money by five different homeless people, though. All of them very polite and well-spoken. That sort of thing always makes me sad.
And reminds me of an old joke, where a couple of photographers are talking. One describes a sad homeless woman he saw in a war zone, who had lost her grandchild, left arm, and home to mortar fire; she was desperately begging for food. "What did you give her?" asked the other photographer. "Well," came the reply "it was kind of a cloudy day, so I gave her one-twelfth of a second at F-13."
Attention camera wonks: I know nothing about cameras and photography. You need not write to tell me that I ruined the punchline with my phony-baloney camera talk. Thanks, and enjoy the buffet.
Sorry, no pictures of homeless people.
Here's a real missed opportunity: as I was walking across a street, I was amazed to see fire, real fire, at the other end of the block. There were a couple of black lampposts leading up to a restaurant across the block, and on the top of them were broad braziers; inside was fire, the flames leaping up at least a couple of feet. I don't know if this was gas fire or not, but it didn't look like it; the flames danced and leapt around, and it wasn't very windy out. Unfortunately I took my picture from too far away, and you can't really see anything. I put a red circle to show where the fires were, though. It was very pretty. Incidentally, this was when I saw that little wall-fountain, too.
Fire!
At this point I was headed for the hotel. But of course I had to run into one more fountain, and even though I was running out of space in the camera I had to take a shot of this: it was just too bizarre.
In the Parking Lot?
Yes, there was a fancy fountain in the parking lot. No, I don't know why. And that was about it for the night; I went back to the hotel, ironed my ties and shirt, and watched Field of Dreams before going to bed. It was strange to sit in Kansas City and watch film of home (if you haven't seen the movie, it has a few scenes in and near Fenway Park, which is where I work).
Need I mention that I had called Teri and Sebastian quite often during the day? I'd picked up a phone card for that very purpose. I didn't want to use my cell phone, because I was out of my area and would pay through the nose for every call.
Sebastian is getting quite good on the phone, when he's in the mood for conversation. He even said "Come home, Daddy!" completely on his own initiative. You can imagine how that made me feel. While I'm at it, I should mention that Teri later told me that Sebastian was asking for me almost constantly. My friend Lois had come over to stay with them while I was away, and was a HUGE help in providing distraction for Sebastian, but it's nice - and heartrending - to know that my little boy missed me so much.
The view from my hotel room windows was pretty bad; I was near some sort of giant air circulating units, which made a bit of noise when they started up, but were pretty unphotogenic. But the next morning I found a pretty view near the elevators:
View from the Sheraton
The smaller dome on the left side had a long set of stairs leading up to it from the street, by the way. Another beautiful shot that I should have taken. So it goes.
I had another half-day of class scheduled for the morning, so I checked out early. To my surprise I found that I'd been charged 99 cents for each of the calling-card calls I'd made, despite the fact that they were to 800 numbers. That's the one criticism I have of the Sheraton; it was a pretty sleazy move. Dan wasn't available, but he sent his friend Ty instead. We made it into class in plenty of time.
The class went smoothly; it was a lab session. I found a new way to crash the software, and a glitch of sorts, but even so I wrapped up all the assignments early. Ty picked me up for the trip to the airport. It wasn't until we'd gone a long way towards the airport that I realized that I'd forgotten a bunch of stuff at the classroom, including the camera! So we had to turn around. Fortunately all the stuff was still there.
Back on the road, we crossed a long bridge; under it were the most trains I'd ever seen in a single place in my life. I cranked down the window and took the best picture I could, but it doesn't really do it justice. There were a LOT of trains.
Trains, Trains, Trains!
It was a long wait at KC International. I got there at 1PM, despite the delay, but the plane wasn't scheduled until 5:15 PM. Teri had suggested that I ask if I could be moved to an earlier flight; it was a good idea (the sort I wouldn't think of), but the girl at the desk took a look and told me (nicely) that for the price I had paid for my ticket, there was no way I was going to get a convenience switch. So I was stuck. I had my book, but even I can only read so much, you know? And then there was some disturbing news: there was something wrong in Chicago. O'Hare Airport was being shut down due to air traffic controller overload, whatever that is (I'll bet it's Reagan's fault for killing PATCO), and all traffic was being shunted to Midway. The 3:30 flight had been cancelled. At the information desk I was told that there were also problems on the east coast; a huge thunderstorm was threatening New York, and Providence Airport was in the path of the storm. I was supposed to get home at 10:15 PM, but it sounded as if I could be seriously late.
So I found a little nook and finished off the other half of the brisket and pork sandwich from last night's dinner (I had refrigerated it, if you were wondering). But when I went back to the information desk again they told me I might as well find dinner; take-off was going to be delayed, probably at least an hour.
Problem: there aren't many places to eat in the desolate wasteland that is Kansas City International Airport, and most of those are fast food places, which I am sworn to avoid (it has been almost exactly two years now since I've had fast food. You may congratulate me). But there was apparently another place to eat in the opposite side of the terminal, so I figured I might as well give that a try. The direct path was blocked by construction, so I had to go down an escalator (which was marked with a sign that said "Tornado Shelter"!), cross an underground parking lot, and come up the other side.
The place was called the Boulevard Brewing Company, and as typical airport food goes, it wasn't bad; I was able to get a burger (I think it was microwaved, but tolerable) and pretty good chips. I had nowhere to go, so I sat, read my book, and drank a lot of Sprite. Did I mention that I avoid caffeinated drinks before and during flights? It's a hangover of some dental-phobia treatment I got a long time ago, because the doctor I saw also treated fear of flying. Okay, I must now officially admit that I'm kind of amazed at the links I'm finding today.
Anyway, I sat and read and drank Sprites for a long time. The waitress was nice about me taking up a table for so long, probably because it was a slow day. I must say, it was strange to be called "sweetie" and "hon" by a 17-year-old.
Finally it was time to pass through security and get ready to get on board. While I was waiting, I took a shot that is oddly cryptic; the light reflected from the window just enough to make the whole thing look like a double exposure. That's my hand superimposed on the plane. And that's my plane, superimposed on my hand. This is the closest I've come to having my photo online, by the way. Well, except for a very hidden special prize on my RuneQuest site.
Shortly Before Boarding
The first leg of the flight went amazingly quickly, which was fortunate because we were totally packed. Not a seat to spare. I was able to get a window seat, but I spent most of the trip leaning to my right, trying not to be crushed. When we got closer to Chicago, I was surprised at how ugly the city looked from the air at night; a huge, flat, uniform grid of electrical lights that made me think of meat-packing houses and hot, dry wind. Someday I should go back and give it a better look, I suppose. Anyway, it wasn't long before we were at Chicago Midway.
This time, though I had to actually change planes. The next plane was only a few steps from my exit point, but it was already very crowded. I went up to the desk, and for the first time got a "B" ticket instead of an "A" ticket. Okay, break!
"A" and "B" - Southwest Airlines does open seating. People are grouped into four general categories; "A", who are seated first, "B" are second, "C" is third...and a pre-board category consisting of the handicapped and families with young children. Apart from pre-board, the tickets are handed out on a first come, first served basis. So if you're in early, you get an "A". Later arrivals get a "B". And I believe that on a 737 only one or two people get a "C".
All of the "A"s get to line up - again, it's stadium-style seating - and seat themselves before the "B"s are brought in, etc. I believe I made some sort of joke to Teri about being surprised that they were still using stadium-style seating after a bunch of people were crushed, or killed by Hell's Angels with pool cues...okay, sick humor. Sorry.
Anyway, up 'til then I'd been in the A group, but because I was transferring this time I was in the Bs. I feared that I'd have to cram myself into a mostly-full row. But when the plane finally boarded (about an hour late), I found to my amazement that there was one row on the wing which was empty! I'm still not sure why. It was under the "pillows & blankets" overhead compartment, but I just stuck my back in the compartment right before that one. For some reason no one else sat on my row. I don't know why.
The ride home was actually pretty rough. There was a lot of turbulence. The captain came on the PA several times to order the flight crew to strap down. He also told us that there was a huge storm over the east coast (which I already knew), and that we were going to have a bouncy ride. Apparently the computer said that 42,000 feet would give us the smoothest ride, but since the plane didn't have the technology (his words) to reach that level, we were settling for the second smoothest ride at 37,000 feet. It was interesting, and we bounced around a bit; if drinks had already been served by that point I would probably have been soaked, and as a matter of fact when I finally did get my drink (I was pretty thirsty) we got some more bumping and a little spilled. There were a couple of times that we had, well, not exactly no gravity, but reduced gravity: it felt like we fell a thousand feet or so. But there were tail winds behind us, so when we got into T.F. Green I was only a little more than an hour late. Teri was waiting for me, and it was great to see her. As we drove home, everything looked a little strange to me. It was somehow as if my brain couldn't quite adjust to being home, and I had trouble recognizing places that I should have known pretty well. But by the time we got home I was okay.
Lois was sleeping on the couch (she prefers it), and the baby was sleeping upstairs. I went upstairs and kissed him goodnight, and when I did he stirred and woke up just enough to say imperiously "Daddy, lie down!". He likes me to lie down beside his crib and sing him to sleep, you see.
And that was my trip.
There. Happy?
This was a business trip; only the second big one I've ever made. The first was to the GeoAccess conference in Florida, which was in 2000 if I recall correctly. I only got to see the hotel. And an astronaut who gave an inspirational speech. It was okay (and the orange juice was great; I drank a grove), but I would have liked to see more. I was determined not to make that mistake this time.
This trip was to the headquarters of GeoAccess in Kansas, for some training on new software. I flew economy on Southwest Airlines; it was mandatory (my company requires employees to use their (i.e. the company's) travel agency). The round trip flight was incredibly cheap, just under $200 from Providence RI to Kansas City, MO. Possibly it was extra cheap because none of the flights were direct.
I've flown a few times in my life, mostly to and from college: Allegheny College in Meadville, PA, with the other end of the trip usually JFK Airport in New York City. Remind me to tell you about a horrific and memorable bus ride I took home one time. I also flew to Europe once with my family. I've probably flown 10-14 times altogether, totaling about 30-40 hours in the air.
I like flying, as it happens. I get a little nervous beforehand, if I haven't flown in a while, but unlike some I don't have a fear of flying. Perhaps it's because I love to dream about flying, I don't know. I always take a window seat if I can.
The take-offs and landings are the most fascinating parts of the flight to me, partly because I know that they're the most dangerous - particularly the landings. When I see the ground below I always try to figure what height would mean inevitable death if we crashed, and what height might be survivable. And I always find myself laughing at some point after we're well in the air or safely on the ground. I don't know why. I don't think it's nervousness, because it feels too good.
I like the lower heights, oddly enough; the first few minutes after takeoff when you can see the buildings and cars most clearly. Extreme heights, when we're way above the clouds, make me feel a little agoraphobic. Fortunately I don't have agoraphobia. No, that doesn't necessarily make any sense.
Incidentally, this was the furthest west I've ever been. My previous record was Detroit, MI, which we reached by driving; we were visiting my uncle (he's also my godfather) before looping around to go to Allegheny.
Anyway, Teri drove us to T.F. Green, AKA Providence Airport; fortunately she picked a good route, so it only took about twenty minutes. The afternoon was dim and cloudy. The airport itself was small, but neat and decent-looking. Teri dropped me off at the Southwest entrance; I'll spare you the goodbyes I said to her and Sebastian. They drove off, leaving me very sad.
I was flying with "ticketless" check-in, which went smoothly. The airport was almost empty, so I was the only one at the counter. After that I hung around for a while in the front area, and talked to Teri and Sebastian on my cell phone, but eventually the time came for me to go through security.
The new security at the airport was a little bit more intimidating than usual, and I must confess that it crossed my mind that I might be on a Bush enemies list; even that I might not be allowed to fly. But I guess I'm not that important, which is probably a good thing. I'd put my wallet, cell phone, digital camera, and digital recorder in a clear baggy along with all my pocket change and anything else metal, which the security guy at the metal detector really appreciated. They made me take off my belt (the buckle is a pair of large metal rings) and put that through the scanner as well, along with my jacket and shoes! Thus the terrible belt-buckle-and-shoe threat was averted.
I had about a two hour wait before takeoff. I'd anticipated long waits, though, and had come prepared with a bunch of books, all of them by Lawrence Watt-Evans, who is one of maybe three "new" (i.e. post-1980) modern genre writers that doesn't suck. Hmm, I just noticed that he does a bit of blogging. Interesting. I also killed some more time on the phone with Teri, and then on a whim asked some nearby security people if I could take some pictures. To my amazement, they said yes.
This was not my plane, I believe, but I'm not 100% sure. They all look the same, anyhow; all of my flights were 737s. Some of the people around stared at me a little - I guess they were surprised that I was allowed to take pictures - but nobody said anything.
While I was walking around in the airport and feeling lonely, I suddenly saw something surprising: our wedding caterer! Or rather, their truck. I hadn't know that they did airline food as well. Unfortunately none of my flights offered anything more than peanuts, Ritz "Air Crisps", and Sprite. But I snapped a picture just for the heck of it.
The flight took off just after 5PM on November 17th (Monday evening). It was about two and a half hours to Chicago Midway. I was surprised that the plane was comparatively empty; I had a row to myself, and the rows behind and in front of me had only a single person in them as well. Which was probably a good thing, because my seat was slightly defective. You know when they say "Return your seats to an upright position"? Well, the catch on mine was broken, so when the plane started pushing upwards my seat reclined whether I liked it or not. Funny, that happened on a later flight in a different plane, too. I guess it's not really that big a deal.
The Southwest people were quite nice, and seem to have made a signature out of comedy on the in-flight announcements. I can't remember for sure if Southwest is the airline run by that union-busting bastard (I forget his name), but it probably is.
Chicago Midway seems like the typical big-city international airport. It had people-movers, which I always enjoy. I walked briskly down one, and almost lost my footing at the end when I came off. But there wasn't anything worth taking a picture of. I picked up dinner at a place called Gold Coast Dogs, which was pretty horrible.
I hadn't needed to get off the plane, incidentally; it was continuing on to KC. But it was going to be about a 50-minute wait, so I decided to set foot in Chicago. The flight and boarding crew were really nice, and told me that I wouldn't have to wait in line again to get back on. They had me leave my bag and jacket in my seat, to save it.
The next leg of the flight was even emptier than the first; the rows ahead and behind me were totally empty! It was another hour and a quarter until we landed safely at KC International Airport. As airports go, it was pretty bad. Desolate and small, not even as nice as T.F. Green. Granted, it was after ten o'clock; and I'm mostly used to the largest airports, like JFK and Heathrow. Still, this wasn't encouraging.
I was really tired, so I called a cab to get me to the hotel.
I might have been able to rent a car, incidentally, but that can be a problem when you only have debit cards; sometimes they'll take them, sometimes they won't. In any case, I'm lousy at finding my way around in strange places. So rather than get lost while dead tired and far from home, I took cabs.
It was a surprisingly long and expensive drive to the hotel, which was the Sheraton Suites at the Plaza in Kansas City, MO. When the travel agency booked my room they'd had to go for a suite, since all of the regular rooms were already available. As suites go, it was okay; a long living room with a couch, TV, and desk, the usual bathroom, plus a small bedroom with a high and not very big bed. There was a TV in the bedroom as well. An odd thing about the room is that thanks to a big mirror above the bed and another on the closet door, you could see the TV from the bathroom. Thanks to the double-mirroring, you could even read text on the screen. I couldn't help but wonder if that was intentional.
So I went to sleep.
I got up early the next day; the time difference meant I had an extra hour, but I didn't want to be late to class. Particularly because I wasn't sure how long it would take to get there. I'd called and left a message for the cab I'd taken the night before, but he didn't show so I got a cab at the hotel.
I should mention that I was a little worried about money. I had to pay for all of my expenses myself, and put in for reimbursement afterwards; not a great way to do things. We had the money this time (unlike the last time I'd been sent on a trip, which is a long and unpleasant story that is best forgotten), but money was a little tight and if the cabs were too expensive I might have come up a little short towards the end of my stay.
Fortunately it was much cheaper to go from the hotel to Lenexa, KS, than to the airport. The guy driving the cab was quite cool (and he may be reading this, in which case: Hi, Dan!), and told me a lot of interesting stuff about the area. For example, Kansas City MO is Democratic, while KC KS is Republican. The two cities are in some sense actually one (it's split by the state line), but because they have separate administrations that oppose each other they don't have coordinated city services like public transportation. I was frankly surprised (and pleased) to hear that ANYWHERE in the region was Democratic these days.
I was pretty early, so Dan dropped me off at a restaurant within walking distance of the GeoAccess building for breakfast. It was attached to a Holiday Inn, but it wasn't owned by them; there was a buffet, but since I wasn't that hungry I just had wheat toast, home fries, and orange juice. Then I started off walking across the back lots of office buildings towards GeoAccess.
I didn't really know much about Kansas City and Kansas, of course. Pretty much all I know about Kansas was from The Wizard of Oz, and the little I knew about Kansas City was from some of Robert A. Heinlein's stuff (as I recall, he grew up there, and he wrote about it fairly extensively in Time Enough For Love). But certainly the area wasn't the flatter-than-a-pancake tornado alley I might have expected. In fact, in a lot of ways it was quite like my own New England. Except perhaps five to ten degrees warmer. The temperature was in the 50's, which meant that I was pretty comfortable.
During my walk, I came across a pretty and unusual-looking small tree. I didn't have anything better to do, so I took a picture. There were a couple of people in a nearby office building who probably think that I'm insane.
The sun was rising, and some of the foliage was absolutely lovely - again, a surprise of sorts. I think I knew that leaves change colors in other places besides New England, but as you can see in the next picture, seeing is believing.
I won't inflict photos of the training on you. It was a bunch of computers, six people in the class, lunch was provided, the usual stuff. I learned a lot. We finished at 4PM. Then it was back to the hotel and time for my one real chance to see Kansas City.
I should mention that I was in an area of KC called the Plaza. It's gentrified, I think; built up and beautified, probably as much to encourage tourism as anything else. If so, it succeeded - at least for me. I've been in gentrified areas before, and this was far and away the most beautiful I've ever seen, as well as the largest. It was practically European! Unfortunately my pictures don't really do it justice.
I wanted to get as much of the flavor of Kansas City as possible in the few hours that I had. I also had three specific destinations in mind: a Barnes & Nobles (I was running out of reading material for the trip home), an FAO Schwartz (a present for Sebastian), and K.C. Masterpiece, which was one of the most famous barbecue places in town. I didn't have a map or guide to the city, although I could have picked one up in the lobby. I just walked out the main door and started wandering. Here's what happened:
The Blue Stairs
The Blue Stairs. Where do they go? Why are they so pretty? I had to find out. Up, up, up I climbed, passing a pretty blonde woman who was talking into her cell phone (I left her out of the picture because I didn't want any trouble with anyone). Half-way up on the left of the stairs, where the orange tiled roof is, there was a nice little outdoor eating area which was part of a small restaurant. Above on the right were some shops. Up I climbed, up up up...to:
Okay, not so thrilling. But there's something about being in a place only once (probably, although I'd like to go back for a holiday) that makes it hard for me not to find out what lies beyond that next turn. So there was an office building, and a parking lot, and a strange white thing built into a wall for no reason that I can see. I like pointless, decorative things for some reason, so I snapped a shot and turned around. I wish I had a zoom on my camera, so I could have gotten more detail. Oh well - maybe next time.
I went back down the stairs and walked on down the street.
I was surprised at the beauty and age of the architecture. It's the arrogant New Englander in me, I suppose, but I was expecting most of the buildings to be newish, tasteless, and dull. Instead a lot of it was elegant and lovely. Below is a sunset view down the street of a castle in the distance. Note the crenellations.
A bit further down the road I found the Barnes & Noble I'd been looking for. I probably don't need to say this, but I prefer to avoid big chains; if I'd had the time, I would have loved to have searched the city for used book stores. But there simply wasn't time, and I desperately needed more reading material for the long flight home the next day. Did I mention that my planes had neither movies nor audio? The movies I could live without, but I was sorry about the audio - one of the more memorable things about flying to England on British Air was listening to the in-flight "radio" channels. They were all on tape, of course, and repeated every so often, but they were fun. Oh well.
Oh yes, the Barnes & Noble: It was odd. There were four stories, with a large open space through the center. From the top floor you could look way, way down to the bottom level in the basement. It was really pretty cool. But I didn't take a picture. Sorry! I bought Lawrence Watt-Evan's The Dragon Society in paperback and continued back down the street again. Oh, but I should mention that the clerks in the B&N were remarkably polite and friendly. Maybe it's me - I'm a very cheerful tourist, looking for any excuse to talk to anyone - but it seems as if the people in New England are the rudest in the world. At the hotel, almost everyone said "Good morning" and really seemed to mean it.
Back to the street. There were more fountains in Kansas City then I've ever seen. There's one in particular that I really regret not photographing, even though it didn't have any water in it: a very small one, a sort of vertical elongated oval of marble with a cherub which was set in a very out-of-the way corner on a wall, next to a small door. But it was pretty dark by the time I found it, so it probably wouldn't have come out that well. Here's another fountain that I liked very much:
Sometime around then I found the FAO Schwartz. It was hard to miss, with that ten-foot tall golden bear in the doorway. Kitschy, I know, but I like that sort of thing. There's an FAO Schwartz not far from where I work, and I'd have rather gone to a local independent shop, but there just wasn't time to find one. The clerk was almost too helpful, but eventually I found the perfect toy for Sebastian: a wooden train with pegs on the cars, and carved wooden shapes on the pegs. I'll give it to him for Christmas, and he'll love it. Best of all, it was small enough to carry conveniently.
Did I mention that I prefer to travel very light? Teri thinks I'm insane, but I insisted on packing only enough to fill a very small carry-on bag. I brought all the necessities, of course, changes of clothes and personal amenities, but if I can avoid checking a bag I'm much more comfortable. The bag was stuffed, of course, but I managed not to burst the seams.
I'm not doing commercials for FAO Schwartz here, so again, no picture.
I'd really hoped to find a pretty charm or present for Teri, and even some sort of souvenir for myself, but I couldn't find anything. The stores in the Plaza were the most expensive sort: Saks Fifth Avenue, that sort of thing. Pretty, but way out of my price range. Incidentally, I was surprised at how empty the whole area was.
Here's another fountain. This one was in a courtyard; an outdoor eating area for a restaurant, I think. The sun was close to setting, but I was still able to get decent light. I've found that I get better pictures outside with natural light.
I wasn't really hungry, but since I was getting tired I decided that it was time to get something to eat before going back to the hotel. For once my luck held: near the fountain was an illuminated map. It showed that K.C. Masterpiece was only a few steps down the block in a different direction.
I'd forgotten that it was only 5:20 local time, so the place was pretty empty. I ordered an appetizer of freshly-made potato chips (they make their own, and Dan had recommended them): they were excellent, thick and very crunchy. For the main meal I decided to go whole-hog, so to speak, and ordered a custom version of a sandwich that I like very much at a local BBQ place: half brisket, half pork.
What I got was nothing like the hot-n-juicy sandwiches at the Memphis Roadhouse, though. Theirs have a lot of barbecue sauce and a very strong flavor, on a roll; they're not that big, so I can usually eat at least two (while I'm at it, I should mention that in my experience only one out of three times at the Memphis do you get a really good sandwich; the rest of the time you either get a so-so one, or a really bad one. The last time I ate there I found TWO large pieces of bone in my sandwich, one the size of a finger-joint, and I haven't been back since).
This sandwich was 3/4 of a pound, on sliced white bread; bread, pork, bread again, brisket, and then bread. It had some barbecue sauce, but not much. Which was probably just as well, because I have to admit that K.C. Masterpiece sauce is not particularly to my taste. There was a bottle at my table, and it was exactly the same as the ones they sell in the supermarket: sweet and bland. The meat was a little scary-looking, too; big pieces of fat stuck out here and there. For some reason I find fat totally disgusting, despite the fact that it's one of my major components. That is, I'm fat. Get it?
I let the sandwich sit while I worked on the fries that came with it. They were really excellent, large, crisp, and well-seasoned. The waiter was almost too solicitous, bringing me another Coke each time I was only half-way through the previous one. I've never had that much service before! But after a while he seemed to be getting anxious about the sandwich. After he asked me if everything was all right, I felt I had to at least try a few bites.
Okay, I used to be incredibly picky and finicky. And compared to most people, I still am. But a lot less so since I met Teri. She broke me of some of my bad habits (only some, though
). So I kind of closed my eyes, picked up half the sandwich, and dug in.And it was surprisingly good. Quite different from the Memphis hot-n-juicy, with a much more subtle flavor, but that great smoky quality was definitely there. And the fat wasn't really an issue. Looking at it grossed me out, but with my eyes closed there was no problem. The whole thing was far too much for me to finish, though, so I had the second half wrapped to take home. I had some crazy idea that I could bring it on the plane and give Teri a taste of Kansas City, or something. Yes, there are times when I'm not entirely rational.
I tried taking a picture inside the restaurant, by the way, but it didn't really come out. The photo above I snapped after dinner, and as you can see it was dark outside by then. I took quite a few more photos than I'm posting here, of course, but most of them were pretty dull compared to these. Scary, isn't it?
Another lovely fountain.
It was almost eerie, how empty the streets were; notice how there's almost no one in any of my shots? Admittedly, it was a Tuesday night, but I can't imagine Boston or New York being this empty between 5-7 PM at this time in the holiday season. I was asked for money by five different homeless people, though. All of them very polite and well-spoken. That sort of thing always makes me sad.
And reminds me of an old joke, where a couple of photographers are talking. One describes a sad homeless woman he saw in a war zone, who had lost her grandchild, left arm, and home to mortar fire; she was desperately begging for food. "What did you give her?" asked the other photographer. "Well," came the reply "it was kind of a cloudy day, so I gave her one-twelfth of a second at F-13."
Attention camera wonks: I know nothing about cameras and photography. You need not write to tell me that I ruined the punchline with my phony-baloney camera talk. Thanks, and enjoy the buffet.
Sorry, no pictures of homeless people.
Here's a real missed opportunity: as I was walking across a street, I was amazed to see fire, real fire, at the other end of the block. There were a couple of black lampposts leading up to a restaurant across the block, and on the top of them were broad braziers; inside was fire, the flames leaping up at least a couple of feet. I don't know if this was gas fire or not, but it didn't look like it; the flames danced and leapt around, and it wasn't very windy out. Unfortunately I took my picture from too far away, and you can't really see anything. I put a red circle to show where the fires were, though. It was very pretty. Incidentally, this was when I saw that little wall-fountain, too.
At this point I was headed for the hotel. But of course I had to run into one more fountain, and even though I was running out of space in the camera I had to take a shot of this: it was just too bizarre.
Yes, there was a fancy fountain in the parking lot. No, I don't know why. And that was about it for the night; I went back to the hotel, ironed my ties and shirt, and watched Field of Dreams before going to bed. It was strange to sit in Kansas City and watch film of home (if you haven't seen the movie, it has a few scenes in and near Fenway Park, which is where I work).
Need I mention that I had called Teri and Sebastian quite often during the day? I'd picked up a phone card for that very purpose. I didn't want to use my cell phone, because I was out of my area and would pay through the nose for every call.
Sebastian is getting quite good on the phone, when he's in the mood for conversation. He even said "Come home, Daddy!" completely on his own initiative. You can imagine how that made me feel. While I'm at it, I should mention that Teri later told me that Sebastian was asking for me almost constantly. My friend Lois had come over to stay with them while I was away, and was a HUGE help in providing distraction for Sebastian, but it's nice - and heartrending - to know that my little boy missed me so much.
The view from my hotel room windows was pretty bad; I was near some sort of giant air circulating units, which made a bit of noise when they started up, but were pretty unphotogenic. But the next morning I found a pretty view near the elevators:
The smaller dome on the left side had a long set of stairs leading up to it from the street, by the way. Another beautiful shot that I should have taken. So it goes.
I had another half-day of class scheduled for the morning, so I checked out early. To my surprise I found that I'd been charged 99 cents for each of the calling-card calls I'd made, despite the fact that they were to 800 numbers. That's the one criticism I have of the Sheraton; it was a pretty sleazy move. Dan wasn't available, but he sent his friend Ty instead. We made it into class in plenty of time.
The class went smoothly; it was a lab session. I found a new way to crash the software, and a glitch of sorts, but even so I wrapped up all the assignments early. Ty picked me up for the trip to the airport. It wasn't until we'd gone a long way towards the airport that I realized that I'd forgotten a bunch of stuff at the classroom, including the camera! So we had to turn around. Fortunately all the stuff was still there.
Back on the road, we crossed a long bridge; under it were the most trains I'd ever seen in a single place in my life. I cranked down the window and took the best picture I could, but it doesn't really do it justice. There were a LOT of trains.
It was a long wait at KC International. I got there at 1PM, despite the delay, but the plane wasn't scheduled until 5:15 PM. Teri had suggested that I ask if I could be moved to an earlier flight; it was a good idea (the sort I wouldn't think of), but the girl at the desk took a look and told me (nicely) that for the price I had paid for my ticket, there was no way I was going to get a convenience switch. So I was stuck. I had my book, but even I can only read so much, you know? And then there was some disturbing news: there was something wrong in Chicago. O'Hare Airport was being shut down due to air traffic controller overload, whatever that is (I'll bet it's Reagan's fault for killing PATCO), and all traffic was being shunted to Midway. The 3:30 flight had been cancelled. At the information desk I was told that there were also problems on the east coast; a huge thunderstorm was threatening New York, and Providence Airport was in the path of the storm. I was supposed to get home at 10:15 PM, but it sounded as if I could be seriously late.
So I found a little nook and finished off the other half of the brisket and pork sandwich from last night's dinner (I had refrigerated it, if you were wondering). But when I went back to the information desk again they told me I might as well find dinner; take-off was going to be delayed, probably at least an hour.
Problem: there aren't many places to eat in the desolate wasteland that is Kansas City International Airport, and most of those are fast food places, which I am sworn to avoid (it has been almost exactly two years now since I've had fast food. You may congratulate me). But there was apparently another place to eat in the opposite side of the terminal, so I figured I might as well give that a try. The direct path was blocked by construction, so I had to go down an escalator (which was marked with a sign that said "Tornado Shelter"!), cross an underground parking lot, and come up the other side.
The place was called the Boulevard Brewing Company, and as typical airport food goes, it wasn't bad; I was able to get a burger (I think it was microwaved, but tolerable) and pretty good chips. I had nowhere to go, so I sat, read my book, and drank a lot of Sprite. Did I mention that I avoid caffeinated drinks before and during flights? It's a hangover of some dental-phobia treatment I got a long time ago, because the doctor I saw also treated fear of flying. Okay, I must now officially admit that I'm kind of amazed at the links I'm finding today.
Anyway, I sat and read and drank Sprites for a long time. The waitress was nice about me taking up a table for so long, probably because it was a slow day. I must say, it was strange to be called "sweetie" and "hon" by a 17-year-old.
Finally it was time to pass through security and get ready to get on board. While I was waiting, I took a shot that is oddly cryptic; the light reflected from the window just enough to make the whole thing look like a double exposure. That's my hand superimposed on the plane. And that's my plane, superimposed on my hand. This is the closest I've come to having my photo online, by the way. Well, except for a very hidden special prize on my RuneQuest site.
The first leg of the flight went amazingly quickly, which was fortunate because we were totally packed. Not a seat to spare. I was able to get a window seat, but I spent most of the trip leaning to my right, trying not to be crushed. When we got closer to Chicago, I was surprised at how ugly the city looked from the air at night; a huge, flat, uniform grid of electrical lights that made me think of meat-packing houses and hot, dry wind. Someday I should go back and give it a better look, I suppose. Anyway, it wasn't long before we were at Chicago Midway.
This time, though I had to actually change planes. The next plane was only a few steps from my exit point, but it was already very crowded. I went up to the desk, and for the first time got a "B" ticket instead of an "A" ticket. Okay, break!
"A" and "B" - Southwest Airlines does open seating. People are grouped into four general categories; "A", who are seated first, "B" are second, "C" is third...and a pre-board category consisting of the handicapped and families with young children. Apart from pre-board, the tickets are handed out on a first come, first served basis. So if you're in early, you get an "A". Later arrivals get a "B". And I believe that on a 737 only one or two people get a "C".
All of the "A"s get to line up - again, it's stadium-style seating - and seat themselves before the "B"s are brought in, etc. I believe I made some sort of joke to Teri about being surprised that they were still using stadium-style seating after a bunch of people were crushed, or killed by Hell's Angels with pool cues...okay, sick humor. Sorry.
Anyway, up 'til then I'd been in the A group, but because I was transferring this time I was in the Bs. I feared that I'd have to cram myself into a mostly-full row. But when the plane finally boarded (about an hour late), I found to my amazement that there was one row on the wing which was empty! I'm still not sure why. It was under the "pillows & blankets" overhead compartment, but I just stuck my back in the compartment right before that one. For some reason no one else sat on my row. I don't know why.
The ride home was actually pretty rough. There was a lot of turbulence. The captain came on the PA several times to order the flight crew to strap down. He also told us that there was a huge storm over the east coast (which I already knew), and that we were going to have a bouncy ride. Apparently the computer said that 42,000 feet would give us the smoothest ride, but since the plane didn't have the technology (his words) to reach that level, we were settling for the second smoothest ride at 37,000 feet. It was interesting, and we bounced around a bit; if drinks had already been served by that point I would probably have been soaked, and as a matter of fact when I finally did get my drink (I was pretty thirsty) we got some more bumping and a little spilled. There were a couple of times that we had, well, not exactly no gravity, but reduced gravity: it felt like we fell a thousand feet or so. But there were tail winds behind us, so when we got into T.F. Green I was only a little more than an hour late. Teri was waiting for me, and it was great to see her. As we drove home, everything looked a little strange to me. It was somehow as if my brain couldn't quite adjust to being home, and I had trouble recognizing places that I should have known pretty well. But by the time we got home I was okay.
Lois was sleeping on the couch (she prefers it), and the baby was sleeping upstairs. I went upstairs and kissed him goodnight, and when I did he stirred and woke up just enough to say imperiously "Daddy, lie down!". He likes me to lie down beside his crib and sing him to sleep, you see.
And that was my trip.
There. Happy?