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.
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16 comments:
Welcome back, safe and relatively sound.
why dont you have those pen insulin shots like my friend
dont think airport security would know the diffs anyway
Seems like you had an adventure!
Puss
You've inspired me to go dig up my suspenders!
When I went to Jamaica I flew out of the teeny tiny A terminal at Reagan... but at least they had a Starbucks!
I'm having heart palpitations just reading this.
You could do worse than Jerry's subs (as you recently reminded me).
Glad to have you back.
It sounds like the kind of trip they make indie movies about. Can't wait to 'read all about it'! Glad you and your suspenders are back safe!
Welcome back!
welcome back
be glad you wife didnt pull a prank and told the secyrity that you are hiding drugs in your buthole...
haha now that could have been bad
Welcome back! Jerry's subs? And a pat down? Sexy.
Welcome back!!! Can't wait to hear all about your trip.
Peace
I like aircraft to be BIG. A Saudi billionaire just bought a huge "palace in the sky" outfitted w/ private bedrooms, a gym with a sauna (or was it a hot tub), and some other shit that people don't even require in their real palaces.
Imagine that. Sleeping in a bed (with a princess) in a bedroom on an airplane.
Wicked, I missed you the whole time I was gone.
Lee, I use the Novolog pen, but you need to put a needle on the end to inject yourself. At night, I use Lantis insulin from a vial with a regular syringe.
Puss, I am following in your footsteps.
Lee, you can call me anything, do almost anything to me in the name of National Security and I'll yawn. Mess with my wife...... And you can borrow my suspenders anytime!
WG, you were in the *NEW* wing of Reagan. You had it made. I believe they also served Red Stripe on your flight. They may have had engines powered by more than rubber bands too.
Jay, it gets better.
Crankster, my goal is to eat with you in a place that serves, with a knife and a fork, next time. I'll buy. Maybe they'll have beer too.
Wng, I thought I was going to spend an eternity in the security node, with no coffee. I really understood existentialism, suddenly. I needed Beowolf.
Alison, I missed, I may have flown over you. I did wave.
Will, I have a tattoo on the small of my back that says, "exit only, no entry allowed". Once a year, I exempt my doctor to check my prostate.
Pool, that's me alright, sexuality personified.
Odat, I do not understand how you can put up such a high quality blog seven days a week and work. You are a wonderment.
M@, I want to fly with that guy. I just want to be able to sit back and have a table and a nice drink while I'm flying. While a martini would have been nice, so would have been a Diet Coke.
Yikes! I lost your blog address - growl to myself - and here you are! I'm delighted you made it back in one piece and that security wasn't too much of a nuisance. Denver, along with our slowest and worst mail service in the county, is well known for it's horrible airport security lines. Sometimes I think it's faster to just drive.
Welcome back!
It's always a pleasure Claudia. Next time I'm going to Denver, I'm driving. Food and drink along the way! I should fill in my blog address on your blog more often, my bad.
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