A New Beginning: The Final Stand

Chewy watched as Raap pulled the family car pulled away from the house.  He was in his typical pose, standing on two legs while leaning against the window as Yzzi and Etan waved furious good-byes to him.

Once the car was out of sight, every muscle in his body was relaxed.  "I love it when these suckers leave me alone in the house for the day," he said to himself.  "After spending the week avoiding Mr. Missouri, I need a break."

A New Beginning V: Missouri

It was Monday morning of my birthday.  You would think I would be happier.  But my plane landed from Vegas at 12:45am and after negotiating various modes of transportation to get to my car in Terminal 2 and then get said car home, it was 2am.

And I wasn't tired. I was on a dog hunt.

A New Beginning IV: The Hangover

"HELLO MOTO"

The words and subsequent ringtone were like a knife to my skull.  Not only did I not turn my phone down after arriving back to my Vegas hotel room but my late night activities made the call sound more like a fire alarm...terrific when you are on the 60th floor.  Looking to my right, Dad was sound asleep so I knew the call was not from/about him.

As I struggled to reach my cell, I fell out of bed.  A separated shoulder to go with the searing pain in my cranium.  Which was about to get worse because the caller ID said "Raap".  4am Vegas time but still only 6am at home...uh-oh--something happened.

From The Air

When last I left you, I was preparing to board the flight.  As luck would have it, I have my computer with me so this part takes place mid-flight.  The scariest time of any trip for me.  But so far there have been no explosions, near misses, or unruly passengers so I’m good.  Except…

They didn’t take the seat belt sign off right away (some of us have to go after the pre-flight routine but hey, I’m going to Vegas), the flight is full and cramped (but it is true that I’m really going to Vegas), and I can’t lean my seat back because it is apparently broken, even though the person in front of me is leaning his seat back at full throttle (ok, it’s a good thing it is March Madness as well and not just a Vegas trip because this last one is tough).  Seriously, the only other thing that could go wrong so far would be for them to show Mr. Popper’s Penguins on the screen in front of me.  After numerous viewings with Yzzi and Etan, I’m all Popper Penguin’d out.

There is a guy a row in front to my left who has a printout of college basketball information from “Vegas insider.com” and he is highlighting those parts which are relevant to him.    Too small for me to figure out what he is doing but I imagine he is one of those individuals who take this weekend way too seriously and want to prepare their charts and graphs ahead of time.  While I have maybe taken the pool too seriously in the past, gambling on the games in Vegas is a different story.  And I have actually done quite well too (memo to the IRS: but I blew it in video poker on the same trip so stop snooping).

But back to the lecture at hand.  What do I hate the most about air travel?  It’s not the cramped position in which I type this right now (trust me, my computer is on its edge at a 90-degeree angle and resting comfortably on my ample 12-pack abs) or even the crowded flight, wait to board, etc etc.  It’s the fact that we all put up with these things in order to travel.  Forget Kevin Smith (of Jay and Silent Bob fame), if you really looked at it, the seats are way too small for the average human being and the fact that they are able to cram 270 people in this airplane is laughable.  Yet, like the lemmings we are, each of us is willing to pay the $300-$600 (or, in my case, cash in our credit card points) for the opportunity to not only whiff a blended BO smell but also encounter various forms of annoyed aggression bordering on road rage.  Unless, like me, you are properly medicated, and then it is a crapshoot.  You either get the “I’m always happy” (like me up to a certain limit and then only if the plane actually lands) or the “I’m fixing for a fight” (which you always hear about but never ever see—seriously, are these people really that angry??).

The other interesting part is that the airlines charge for EVERYTHING now.  Ever since 9/11, everything can be had at a price.  The problem is that 9/11 didn’t cause the airlines financial model to implode…the airlines caused their own financial model to explode. There was a time when airlines were fat cats and made a pretty penny at the expense of the consumer and their own workers.  But they paid no attention to the future.  I mean, who has time to think about the future when you are so damn rich in the present?

But now bankruptcy after bankruptcy has come and gone and to sustain their already unprofitable model, the airlines charge for each checked bag (unless you are in one of their “clubs”), each “snack” (which used to be their regular meals, except now scaled down and in a box), and, coming to a flight near you, each bathroom trip (trust me, they will make this happen). 

 I will give Delta credit though...their gingerbread cookies are addictive.  When we took the kids to Maine last October, we had several flight issues and ended up stranded at New York’s Laguardia at midnight.  The airport personnel, to help assuage our kids, provided us with (I’m not kidding), 15 packs of cookies.  The kids were too tired to care but their Dad sure was assuaged.  In fact, the woman next to me just sarcastically said “Lite and cookies…great meal” to which I retorted “it’s the perfect pre-Vegas meal”.  Not a great comeback but I’m in “I’m always happy” mode and would prefer not to lose that before we land.  Headphones back on…I am now alone again. (I just caught her looking and did a quick “page up”…funny how out of the corner of my eye I noticed she immediately started looking at her book.

Another note…it always cracks me up when they make a point to tell you as the plane is taking off that you should be sure to use the restroom assigned to your place in the cabin.  In other words, we have a bunch of rich people up here who will be ridiculously upset if they see a common person dare use their bathroom.  Right, that’s what they spent first class money on.  It wasn’t the free meal, alcohol or hot towels, not to mention the two seats in the same space as we have three.  Besides, have you ever been on a flight where there was a long line for the bathroom?  I have but that was after the seatbelt sign was finally shut off following 90 minutes over turbulent skies in the Pacific on the way to Hawaii which seemed to give every passenger severe gastric problems due to the extreme bumpiness (and mini-heart attacks to yours truly who was convinced we were going down).  A couple extra people using your bathroom is not going to take away from the value you have already received from the other amenities.  Besides, you paying that amount for special considerations makes you no more a lemming than the rest of us in coach.  You just can afford it.

Hopefully this doesn’t offend anyone…in fact, if you are offended, feel free to refer to me as the bitter traveler who has issues.  I do have issues.  Issues, like, I really hope this plane doesn’t crash before I finish this blog entry.  Or maybe I should rephrase to say “before I land”—this computer is definitely not made of black box material and I know how excited you all are to read this.  Good news, if it does crash, you will have other, more exciting (and probably more morbid) things to read in the coming days (and none of that will have anything to do with North Carolina, Duke, or Kentucky, thank God).

Unless Iowa State does in Kentucky.  God forbid.

Great, the plane is starting to shake.  We must be getting over the mountains.  And high winds are predicted for Vegas on Sunday night for the return flight takeoff.  I can’t wait.

Seatbelt sign is now on…let the rolling good times begin.  Should be bumpy until we land.  Good thing I have done this flight before or I’d be looking out the window waiting to see the pilot parachuting to safety.  Can’t say that I would blame him…if I thought it was going down, I’d probably look at the Assistant Captain and say “You are promoted” and then push the first button that gets me to freefall.  If I’m going down, the least I can do is something I have never done before, like skydiving (no, not crashing, you sick people).

I have 14% battery left so I think it’s time to sign off.  I leave you with this.  There is a guy standing in front of me about four rows up with a Wisconsin Badgers cloverleaf shirt on, sipping a cocktail and chatting with his fellow Badger fans.  And he’s easily in his 50s (as are his compadres).  That’s what I love about this trip and taking the trip in Coach.  I’m not saying that first class can’t have regular folk but this right here is the epitome of what  you see in Vegas during March Madness.  Good people having a good time.

And cheering like hell for whoever (in my case, that would be one side of the point spread…or Iowa State against Connecticut).

Peace,

Reg

Vegas Travel Blog

Well, this is a first.  Through the wonders of modern technology, this is my first travel blog.  I still can't believe how patient I am right now after the last 30 minutes.

It all started with all parking at Terminal 1 being full and all cars being diverted (forced) to park at Terminal 2.  While much cheaper, it presents me with two immediate obstacles.  First, not being a frequent traveler, I am not a big fan of flying, therefore I have a two-drink minimum policy prior to all flights.  My planned 90 minutes at the bar just got cut in half.

Second, my return flight lands at 12:52am on Monday morning.  Not preferred but Monday is my birthday and with Yzzi and Etan now both over the age of 2, as a father, I would prefer to spend my birthday with them than the  great melting pot in Sin City.  With my new parking location, I might not get home until the sun comes up.

Which brings me to unexpected problem #3...how to get to Terminal 1.  Unfortunately, I had no idea there was a light rail and then a Tram ride required.  In the ultimate of all travel ironies, a German woman (not from here) had to help me figure out where I was going.

I got to the bar at 1:10.  25 minutes before boarding.  The good news is that the flight was delayed 15 minutes and since I have been in this position before, I have grown adept at putting down enough alcohol in a short amount of time to keep me properly medicated for a 3 hour tour (a 3 hour tour).

Only problem is that during that time, I was wearing an Iowa State hat, a gift from my in-laws (since they are  the only Iowa team in the tournament) and there were at least 3 different Iowa fans at the bar in that short time.  I could feel the looks and wanted to explain everything but chose to use the time to my advantage and consume the liquid courage.  Besides...have you tried to explain to an Iowa fan why you are wearing an ISU hat.  If they are alumni, they will not understand.  Both my brothers graduated grad and undergrad from there and while I bleed black and gold, when it comes to the dance, you make it and you have Iowa in your name (or from Iowa and end in "ake"), you get my support.  And ISU right by a "K" #1 seed...hmmmm (UNI never forgets...Ali! Ali! Ali!).

Flight was further delayed so I went back to the bar for "unfinished business".  Seriously, would it kill these airports to have either a sight line to each gate from the bar or some kind of updates as to actual boarding?  Personal responsibility aside, seems like it would help cut down on overconsumption if one knew exactly how long they had to consume.  Come to think if it...it might actually encourage binge drinking.  Not that I would know...I prefer to refer to my situation as "preventive maintenance".  Oops...there is the call for Zone 3...lucky me...I get to fly.

Last entry before takeoff...I really envy the people who are already asleep.  I would kill to be able to fall asleep before takeoff and wake up after landing.  Thus the reason for my pre-flight routine.

More to come from the plane.

A New Beginning III: A Plan Revealed

"Chewy!!"

I couldn't find that dog anywhere and I was growing impatient.  I knew this was going to be a long and arduous process and I wanted to start on my brackets as soon as possible.  It was bad enough being at his beck and growl this past week.  I imagined working with him would be like wearing Milkbone underwear to the Westminster Dog Show.

"Chewy!!"

I had looked everywhere except the one place he never goes...his dog dish.  If you get fed scraps often enough, you have no need for regular visits to the dog chow bowl.  And since he frequents the shower as often as there is residual puddles to lap up, the accompanying water dish is just as lonely.  In fact,  we didn't bother to empty it the last time...the water evaporated.

A New Beginning II: Man's Best Friend?

For installment I, go here

What a day!

As I poured the belgian ale in my glass, all I could think about was relaxing. Kids were asleep, Raap was at her parents' house and it was time to get my drink on. Besides, I hadn't touched the Playstation 3 in months! Just as I sat down...

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Unfortunately, it was the fourth link in my own personal "checks and balances" system. Except in my system, there was too much checking and not enough balancing.

"I'll ask again...what are you doing?"

Chewy was laying paws up on the recliner...how he got his paws under the reclining release, I will never know.

Travis Talks to The NCAA (Jesus--the sequel)

For the prequel to this saga, click here

*On a late Winter's night, Travis Denney gets on his knees for his nightly prayers before finishing off his scotch on the rocks*

Are you there Jesus?  It's me Travis.  It's been four years since we met at the headquarters of the NCAA and while I believe we had a great conversation, you haven't really been around lately.  I realize I asked for quite the miracle last time and I completely understand that you were unable to grant the request.  I just hope I didn't offend you to the point that you are afraid to come around.  In my defense, I didn't realize your connection to the NCAA.  It should have been obvious but it wasn't.  Hopefully, along with all my other sins, you will forgive and forget (unlike Artie who certainly can't seem to forget anything).

Anyway, I am in the process of preparing to fill out my brackets for this year's March Madness tournament and I have a few questions--maybe you could help me?  I mean, I'm being extra careful to not put myself into any kind of "miracle saving" situation this year so I think these are pretty easy and probably would only take about five seconds of your time (especially if is true that one second of your time is equal to a hundred years on Earth--of course, if that was true, the tournament would be over before even a second so you would be no help at all).

A New Beginning?

Another late weekend night in the Paar household.

Raap had already retired to the upstairs bedroom anticipating another long night of Etan's false starts to the next day. Yzzi had a pillow firmly placed over her ears trying to stave off the first one.

I, on the other hand, was once again firmly entrenched in my seat in front of the big screen trying to find another late night movie rerun without "Rocky" or "Terminator" in title. Is it really that hard to rotate these things a little more often? I mean, how many movies have been made since Sylvester Stallone uttered their his last coherent sentence.

And let's not forget about the frosty beverages. Who says alcohol can't help you forget your problems? The feeling of dread I have had about this year's March Madness pool was quickly melting away with each bottle bottom. I started this pool for fun 15 years ago and for half of that I have been tormented by Raap's conversion of apathy into six victories over me that are topped only by the fact that my lone win was the result of a historic national title game choke by Memphis and her own inability to pick a respectable tiebreaker score. Only an idiot would believe I wasn't in for much of the same in 2012.