Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2019

Paranoia Can Be Rewarding

IT’S GOOD TO BE HOME AGAIN.airlinerr take off 1

For the week between Christmas and New Year we were down in Texas – visiting family, watching the youngsters (read Great-Grandchildren on the Texas side of the family) enjoy Christmas, and not being able to stay awake to see the New Year come in. I couldn’t stay up that late at gunpoint – unless there was an S.F. Giants game being played on the west coast.

The best part of a trip like this is the time spent with the family. The worst part of such a trip has to be changing planes in Dallas. Dallas is the Black Hole of Travel Plans. It is the confluence of lost luggage, cancelled flights, and crowded planes. I feel sure that if the Wright Brothers had known what air travel would be like in Dallas, in our day, they would have just burned the blueprints for their airplane and gone back to fixing bicycles.

When we left Indiana it was a balmy Midwestern 55 degrees and within 24 hours of arriving in the Corpus Christi area it was a balmy South Texas 43 degrees with 35 mph winds that made it feel closer to freezing. WHAT’S GOING ON HERE? Willard Scott announces his retirement and everything goes kerflooey?

 It was a good thing I packed my college alma mater official alumni sweatshirt. I was cozy in the old school colors.

I’ve written about the trip down already. The trip back north is its own dip into the wading pool of craziness.

I should have known that things were not going to be as they usually were when we went through the TSA Checkpoint Charlie in Corpus Christi. The TSA zombies were all smiling – very suspicious. The last time we went through their little duchy they treated me like I was Jeffrey Dahmer. This time – like I’m “The Source of All Joy and Happiness,” or Santa Claus. Personally, I think they were all stoned.

We got into the Dallas airport with nary a bump. Now we were in the Heart of Darkness of Air Travel.buffalo-stampede

After another quick spin on the Monorail aka “Space Mountain,” we got to our gate with time to spare – no 100 yard dashes or last second gate changes. It was making me nervous. I was waiting for the proverbial “other shoe” to drop. What would it be? A sudden tornado just over our gate? Our flight crew walking off the job to protest the dearth of Adam Sandler movies on their longer flights? I just knew that something stupid was going to happen – after all, this was Dallas.

But nothing bizarre happened. No UFOs fell from the sky. No herd of buffalo stampeded across the tarmac.ufo 1

The only thing that I found to be – mildly questionable was something I saw while we were playing Crack the Whip on the Monorail. There was an ad on the tram announcing that there are now five, count ‘em, five, TGI Friday restaurants inside the Dallas airport. That’s a lot of deep fried green beans. Terre Haute has one – Terre Haute (That’s French for, “What is Wasabi?”)

When our plane lifted off for Indianapolis, with seats to spare, I finally relaxed, put in my Earplanes ear plugs so I wouldn’t be deaf as a post for the next two days, and nodded off.

There is no last minute “gotcha!” to this account. We landed, got our luggage in record time, picked up the car, grabbed a bite and drove home.

And they say that the “Age of Miracles” is past!TGI Friday

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One thought on “Paranoia Can Be Rewarding

  1. Long ago, when there were commuter flights out of Hulman Field here in Terrible Hut, I had flown to Chicago on business. Paid for by that ever-popular insurance company, AIG of New York. On the way back it was dark and eerie inside the passenger compartment. I was sitting in the back, freezing my you-know-what off. It was Winter and even though the pilot(s) kept the plane below 10,000 feet, it was still cold. Why, ’cause the heaters in those commuter planes don’t work much. All of a sudden what looked like smoke started coming out of the vent on the floor in the middle of the isle in the rear. Right next to me. Well I couldn’t smell anything, so I figured it was vapor from the heater. Naturally there were other passenger, two women, who thought differently. They started screaming there in the dark, which made it more eerie. As you know the cockpit on some of those commuters are “open”, so the pilot and co-pilot heard them, over the roar of the two prop-engines, and one came out and calmed the two. Whew!! That was finally over and we came in to TH without a hitch.

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