My wife has a 'thing' about scheduling, and making sure that we have enough time to do whatever is necessary. She is the uber-planner. Naturally, since we hadn't flown anywhere since the year 2000, we arrived in our little secured nook of Reagan Airport after going through security three hours before boarding of our aircraft. Impeccable planning! On the other hand, one of my favorite phrases, all of my insulin and needles went through without a hitch. Seems they have seen diabetics at TSA before, although I did seem to confuse them by wearing a pair of suspenders. I got pulled out of line for a individual 'pat down'. It may have been the pattern of the American flag on the suspenders, or the metal clips, or my wife snarling that tipped them off. They also 'statistically' picked my shoes for 'further study'. I was almost sorry I had showered, but, then again, I still sleep with my wife.
We were into 'Rage Against the Machines' and the plane wasn't at the Airport yet. We were behind the Security walls, and there was no good coffee in sight. We were prisoners in a security nook of Reagan Airport, across the Potomac river, where George Washington had flung a dollar and some change trying to get a ride also, from the Nation's Capitol, and the best food was Jerry's Subs, and the coffee was swill. I am convinced that TSA stands for Tough Shit Asshole, not that they seemed to have an attitude problem.
We eventually boarded a pencil that looked like a glider with two jet engines, where we could not put the tray tables down because there wasn't enough room between the back of the seat in front of us and our bodies. It took two and one half hours to reach the beautiful Des Moines International Airport, where our luggage eventually arrived via motorized conveyor, directly from the belly of the jet-assisted pencil. A phone call to the hotel on the specially provided phone right there in the airport yielded a shuttle that took the two of us directly to the Marriott Downtown.
In my next post, I will go into the purpose of the visit, namely Judy's aunt and uncle's 80th and 90th birthday party, a fabulous dinner on Friday night thrown by their sons, The University of Colorado Bison's who stayed at the hotel (and played the University of Iowa on Saturday), and meeting Hilary Clinton, Barrack Obama, and the entire Press corp covering them, who were also staying in our hotel, and holding Town Halls, addressing Unions, and the Farmers.
In the meantime, we did make it home in one piece, but we had to come home through Minneapolis, because it's only like 300 miles out of the way. Naturally. That's modern day spoke and hub aviation.