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Thursday, 02 April 2009

Three Perfect Eh's

For anyone who has traveled on United and RSVP'd to the flight attendant’s invitation to read the award winning Hemisphere's magazine: Yes, this segment is a nod to the long running "Three Perfect Days". For everyone else: Shame on you for paying more attention to your copy of the "Davinci Code", portable electronic device, and/or shenanigans happening out your window seat view than you did to the pre-flight briefing. Besides, that bag that fell off the cart and was left behind on the ramp that looks suspiciously like yours was really someone else's. Trust me.
Day One

After a week of burning the midnight Jet-A, imagine the confusion my body felt about arriving at IND, in a car no less, with the sun already out. Am I really allowed to start a day in the morning anymore? Apparently the answer is yes, but only if I'm going to be a passenger. Our first experience with the new terminal started off well enough. There is plenty of parking. Plenty and plenty and plenty. Unfortunately for us, plenty and plenty and plen of it was already parked in, so we got a thorough tour of lot. No problem, we have lots of time before our flight. Next we got on the shuttle bus and made our way up and back through the lot where we learned that faced with a new airport terminal people will become confused about how things work.

"Where do I go?"
"How about you try through the door of the bus with your luggage first, see what possibilities that opens up?"

Apparently we didn't take this into account when we budgeted our time, because by the time we got to the ticket kiosk it told us we were too late to check in. Oh yeah, it was only by one minute, but it worked out because the agent was nice enough to check our bags anyways. Don't look at me, this whole ticket counter stuff is still foreign to me. I'm still fighting the instincts to just go charging up to security, flash my ID, and continue with my day. So on to security we go where we had a minor brush with greatness. Adding to the list of TSA wackiness since my departure from the industry is the Clear Card. Apparently this is the equivalent to buying a speed pass at Great America or slipping the bouncer a Benjamin in line at the club (not that I would know from personal experience, I just assume that what happens on TV works in real life too). Either way you go through a different path and end up being reintegrated with the common folk just before you reach your goal of entry. Just before I got to push my belongings on to the belt for the x ray machine, a TSA agent came up and placed someone else's stuff in front of mine and had them go first, since they either knew the secret handshake or had a clear card. She turns to look at me and whispers

"Do you know who that is?"
"The jerk who cut in front of me?"

No, humor with these people go together like birds and sliding glass doors; they don't see it coming and it just causes a big mess to clean up afterwards. Instead I opted with the much less likely to cause bonus "random" screening head nod. In fact I did recognize the person in front of me as TV's Jared from those subway ads awhile back. Oddly enough, he didn't smell like subway. Back in the real world Corrie and I got split up for a moment while she went to get air puffed and tested for explosives while my tummy was patted down to make sure it was real and I wasn't smuggling something through in a bag or whatever. Ok Ok, maybe I should have gone and talked to Jared about that subway diet. From there we high tailed it down the shiny new terminal to our gate, which of course was at the very end. When we got there we found a welcome surprise. Our flight was on an EMB-170, which is the much bigger brother to what I used to fly. Hooray for an actual stand up cabin and seats that fit a real person! My cheeks salute you.

After our comfortable flight we arrived at IAD where I once again was able to witness and laude the destruction of the dreaded G gates. If there is airline service between Dante's many levels of hell, I submit the G gates would have been the model for their ground operations. Instead of a sneek peek at eternal torment, we ended up at D2 with an honest to goodness jetway. Of course we had to wait five minutes for someone to show up that could drive it up to the side of the plane, but you have to take your victories where you can. Once off the 170 we checked the screens to find our gate had changed from a hop and skip just down the hall (and looking like subway for lunch) to a ride on a moon rover to the A gates (with memories of much better snacking options I hoped weren't just figments of my imagination). On the drive over I was proud of Corrie for picking out the 777's at the gates. See I'm having a bad influence on her already. Maybe the driver was also looking at the 777's, because we almost rammed one of the other moon rovers coming up to an intersection just before our docking area. Normally there is a push to get off those things once they open the doors, but this time there seemed to be a little extra urgency to the mass exodus.

Instead of turning right to go to our gate I directed us left and up the escalator so we could rush over to the sanctuary of the international area with its wide open expanses and greener pastures. At the top I looked at my watch, momentarily lost faith in our quest, and decided to go back down towards the gate. About three seconds down my stomach cast its vote and we decided we could turn and bolt the three steps back to the top. One. Two. Thump. Corrie didn't quite clear the last one, and then we almost started laughing enough to not make recovery possible when she was carried back and into me. However the siren song of Ben and Jerry was inspiration enough for us to find a way to clear our hurdles and scurry on down the other side. My chocolate fudge brownie swirl shake was very tasty and probably just enough to hold me over until we reached our destination. I noticed while drinking that my cup was made out of a renewable corn based material. I can't say I noticed any taste difference, but my voice may have been a little more husky after I was done. See, I can keep it fresh, you were expecting a pun about ears or something.

Not long after getting to the gate they announced that our flight was over sold and they were looking for two volunteers to be bought off and take another flight. We hesitated for a minute, as we decided if that was something we were willing to do since we knew we had time to burn before we needed to be in Toronto. Alas, in the time it took to decide someone else beat us to it. New plan! Decide if we are for sale before we get to the gate so we can make all haste for the ticket counter if they offer it again. The next announcement told us that our flight was delayed (no kidding, it was at least ten minutes after we should have boarded) and if you needed food go get it because it would be at least half an hour. This time we decided quickly that we might as well get something real to eat if we were going to have to wait longer, so down the way to the pizza place. A few minutes later we are sitting down and enjoying some pizza and salad when I pick up on the call that they are now boarding our flight. What happened to half an hour? I must not be fluent in "Dulles" anymore. Has anyone seen where that Rosetta Stone Kiosk went to? Anyways, I start wolfing down my food and got our stuff packed to take over to the garbage. Corrie had said something about the call to start boarding, but why was she taking so long to finish her food? As it turns out she didn't actually hear that the announcement was our flight boarding and she was just joking about "that’s probably our flight boarding", so she probably just thought I was really hungry and then antsy to get back to our not so awesome seats at the gate. I didn't say anything more about it because I thought she knew and I'd just get in trouble for rushing her while she was eating, and maybe I was being a little antsy to get back to the gate, but we had already almost been left behind once today. It all worked out though, we made it there just as they were calling our names in preparation to hand out our seats to any standby passengers. Yes, I was one of THOSE people. You know, the ones that they keep calling, giving the non revers hope of available seats, and then rush up at the last second just to dash their dreams of being seated even if it is next to the crying baby or the lady you have to share the arm rest with her rolls of fat. We got on the plane, this time a CRJ-200, and found a girl sitting in one of our seats. I told her she was in our seats and the expression I got back was either due to not comprehending English or perhaps life in general. I saw two open seats next to each other in the back and said screw it, being crammed in the back is the same as being crammed in the middle. Thus we rode to BUF.

Interesting side note about BUF: I had never been there before. Not quite sure how I managed that one.

Pick up our bags, check. Pick up our rental car, check. We got a Saturn Aura and I must say that overall I was impressed. It was definitely a full sized car, lots of trunk space, it was quiet and it rode nicely. Of course I banged the side of my head on the car almost every time I tried to slide into the seat, there was a really crappy blind spot caused by the rearview mirror, and the gas pedal was rigged like a truck. I also learned that I am not a fan of paddle shifters. Directions to the hotel on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls, check. Passports, check. Stopping at the square shaped sign with a tiny picture of a stop sign on it just before the customs checkpoint, not so check. For all I know I'm now a person of interest, or more correctly, a person of disinterest since I wasn't paying attention to their crappy sign when there was much more exciting stuff to behold. Anyways, we managed to make it through and end up at the hotel and not a jail cell. We looked through some pamphlets and brochures and picked a place to walk to for dinner that should have a view of Niagara Falls and then set off on our adventure for the evening.

What we discovered is that the town of Niagara Falls, Ontario is roughly equivalent to the Wisconsin Dells. Wax museums and haunted houses seemed to account for about half of the local buildings. Packs of roving kids seemed to make up over half of the population. Odd attractions seemingly stapled on to some other business or restaurant. Oh yeah, this place was definitely like Wisconsin Dells. Walking along the street we managed to find a couple views of the falls and get some pictures to prove that we made it there. I'd be curious to see what they really look like in the summer, but having a winterish view of them was unique since large snow and ice formations form as the mist freezes on the rocks near the falls. After scaling Mt. Niagara (the street leading away from the falls was very steep) we found the hotel our restaurant was in. Apparently everyone else did too. What we walked into was an hour and a half wait for a table, but the good news is that by the time we got a table the falls should have started the nightly light show. When we finally got the call we were asked how many adults and how many kids. The guy seating us seemed confused when we didn't have kids. Oh Oh. We had picked this place because it looked like it was supposed to be a little nicer, and it was nice, but apparently just not nice enough to leave the screaming kids at home or the hotel. We got a nice enough view of the falls once the show started though. The real star of the place though was my steak with tomato chipotle sauce with shrimp. Yum. After dinner we braved the chilly night to see the falls again on our way back to the hotel and were pretty much ready to curl up under the covers for heat and sleep once we got back to our room.
Day Two

Perhaps I had watched too much basketball the past few days with March Madness starting up, but day two started a little like this. Its Matt rolling out of covers, inbounds it, steps, dribbles, from behind the three foot tile he puts it up, bounces off the rim, the back board, and its in!! He's done it. So did I mention how good dinner was? It was so good I just had to bring it up again. And again. And then two or three more times just to make sure. Due to the adult content ahead feel free to skip down to the next paragraph if you wish to exercise your viewers discretion. Ok, anyone still here? Wimps. Anyways I guess when I get sick like that I don't do it half assed. It’s either not going to happen or its like clear the bench time. Maybe I was trying to impersonate the falls, maybe the girl from the Exorcist, I'm not sure but in either case we exceeded the design limits of my dump valve and had to use the overpressure relief valves (in the form of my nostrils). You know when you laugh so hard you shoot coke out your nose? Yeah, same stinging, but with a less pleasant aroma... and that’s a smell that isn't leaving you anytime soon.

Since we got to revisit what I do at work the day before I thought it only fair to take an interest in what Corrie does at work. She did a great job of taking care of me even without proper materials readily at hand. At some point in the morning sleep finally came and we took advantage of it since we didn't have too much of a schedule and we had seen most of what the falls had to offer already. Lunch was light and slightly odd. We went to a Perkins next door to the hotel so I could get some soup and it just went to further my belief that Canada is the bizzaro United States (but its probably more likely that we are the bizzaro Canada). Everything is almost the same, but it’s just a little too tidy and neat, and every now and again you'll notice something just a little off. If you ever get the chance read a menu and the signs and placards in public places and think about the wording. I think part of it is that we just get so used to the same exact lawyer approved phrases over here that we aren't expecting to find the words out of order or slightly different. So there is your cultural education for the day.

Most of the rest of the day was spent resting up and then braving the boarder crossing back to the US. The fact that the we were from Indiana, the car was rented in New York, and the plates said Florida I think set them on edge, but we managed to be welcomed back anyways. Driving around Buffalo we came across the Tally Ho (a strip.. excuse me, Gentlemen’s Club), Amigone (a very unfortunate family name on a funeral home), and the temporary home of my buddy Paul and his wife where she has become the pastor of a local church. Paul's parents were there also since that weekend happened to be Rebecca's ordination, so we were able to catch up with everyone. That night we went out to a local bar/restaurant where I passed up on the Beef on Weck (apparently a wannabe Italian Beef), couldn't get Buffalo Wings (they shut down wings on Friday night for fish fry), and ended up with spaghetti and meatball (singular) that was large enough to have fed all five of us.
Day Three

The road to Toronto (the QEW) was another adventure in navigating the bizarre. Our directions indicated we needed to take a right, but in reality we needed to take the left lane to get there. Nice. Then there were signs for construction, which unlike in the States, were actually followed by real construction in progress. Also they stuck a big "NEW" sign to indicate when something was worth paying attention to, like a lane shift for example. It kind of felt like going to the store and seeing all the bright ads saying "NEW!! Now with more sodium!" See, it catches your attention.

Upon our arrival in Toronto we checked in to the hotel and discovered that we had probably missed Mom, Tim, and Jennifer in the lobby by only a few minutes on their way out to see the city. Good news: It's a straight shot from the hotel to our meeting spot (the CN Tower), plus the thing is gigantic... you can't miss it. Bad news: Parking? As it turned out we got fairly lucky and found a lot the next block over with reasonable hourly rates you could prepay on a credit card. American Plastic... DO NOT leave home without it. Security for the tower ended up being almost as tight as at the airport, and this time we all got air puffed. I still laugh a little at those things because we've had that technology at home forever thanks to Mom's nose. Then we got stuffed into an elevator that had windows and a glass panel on the floor so we could see our ascent. Well, you could if you were the one pressed right up against the glass, or if you were the shortest person there. I got an eye full of some kids hood when trying to look down. How exciting.
On the observation deck I was able to pick out all of the highlights of my previous Toronto adventure, including the sweet hotel, the island airport, and the ten blocks in between that took over an hour to drive. Another elevator ride, and another 33 stories up, and we were at the other observation deck. We learned a couple of interesting things way up there in the sky. One: The tower has a couple square blocks of copper grid at its base to help dissipate electricity from lightning strikes, however, as best as they can tell there is enough resistance on the way down to prevent the electricity from ever getting there. Two: The hinges I noticed on the windows are there so they can be opened up for cleaning. Someone lays down on the pane next to the open one so they can wash the exterior. Three: I'm pretty sure you couldn't pay me enough to do that job. Four: Mom saying, "Oh, I think I feel it swaying" once we reached the windows was about the equivalent of screaming "FIRE!" for Corrie and Jennifer. I turned around to point out that you could see the hotels at Niagara Falls across the lake to Corrie, but she was nowhere to be found. We found them again after riding the elevator back down to the level with the glass floor. I managed to take a few steps out on to it by looking through my camera's screen for a picture of my feet floating over the city. See, its not real, its on TV.

After we all went down the watchtower, we had plenty of reason to be excited. It was a race back to the hotel (we won), a quick lunch, and get ready for the wedding that we had gathered for. This included a shower in a tiny cubicle of tile that somehow had three (3) shower heads. Niiiice. The wedding was very elegant, being held in a small chapel, and included a small history lesson on many of the wedding traditions. The reception was also very nice because there was some tasty food, people I hadn't seen in awhile, and the chance to bust a move. I think bust is the operative word since we were way out of our league in comparison to some of the other dancers there. Oh well, we still had a good time.
Day Four

Also known as Day Javu. We all packed up and went to check out the falls again with Corrie and I as tour guides. Then we trudged back up Mt. Niagara to find a place to eat lunch. I finally got a chance to get some authentic wings... but since I don't exactly appreciate the Buffalo style I went for Southern BBQ. I was expecting something with a BBQ sauce on it, but not so, because what I got was a seasoned and fried piece of chicken. Not bad, but not what I was expecting. After lunch Mom, Tim, and Jennifer went back to Toronto to catch their flights back home. Corrie and I went back to visit Paul and Rebecca for a reception before her ordination. We got to meet her family and they were able to put a face to the name from whatever lies (I mean stories) Paul has told them. Then it was back to the airport for us to hop our flight to ORD on a CRJ-700. Much nicer to sit in than the -200, but either the brakes are extremely grabby or the crew lacked what some would call "finesse". Seriously, its not a good sign if I almost hit my head on the seat in front of me. Thanks to a delay getting our gate, and a quick trip to the penalty box while things got sorted out, I missed out on getting my italian beef from the greek place. Oh well, it'll be there next time. Our ride back to IND was on a late arriving EMB-170, but it did get us back in time to get back home before I came back on duty. We were welcomed back to America when we had dinner at Steak and Shake and our waitress talked the whole time about working at some bar, and how much she got tipped so well because she would show off the goods, and then how she got super plastered the night before she found out she was pregnant, and blah blah blah. Yup, high class all the way back here in the USA. Side note: I didn't know it was our waitress running her mouth the whole time, I thought it was a customer. If I had known the tip would have been much easier to figure. Zero percent of whatever is, let me see, carry the zero, oh yeah still Zero.

So that was the trip... time to start planning the next one.