Tag Archives: Air Travel

NIB 2024: Arrival

Posted on by John
Me standing near the Washington Monument and Reflecting Pool

And so it begins… This year, as I’ve noted, I had been invited to attend the annual conference of the National Industries for the Blind in Arlington, Virginia, as LCI had awarded me Employee of the Year. Well one of them, another individual with whom I’d actually done some training as it happens, also received the designation. I was allowed to bring a guest, so my wife came with me.

The good news for us is we didn’t have to leave super early. Our American Airlines flight from Raleigh/Durham International Airport to Regan National Airport didn’t depart until Monday October 14 at 10:45 AM. Having prepaid for parking the night before, we loaded the car with bags packed to the gills for our weeklong trip and headed to the Economy lot. A shuttle arrived shortly after 8:00 AM and took us to the terminal, where we then had to hoof it with those heavy bags and I was sucking air by the time we reached the check-in counter.

“Would you two like to each check one of those bags for free?” The woman behind the counter asked. I have never been so relieved to hear anything in my life. My newly acquired briefcase (I had to look businesslike, time to shed the backpack) felt light by comparison as we continued onto the security checkpoint. This was my first time flying since… well, 2020, and one thing I’d forgotten was how annoying this process could be. Or maybe my patience has just shortened over the last four years. It was belts off, shoes off, Mantis braille display out, iPhone out, and oh I forgot to take off the Apple Watch. Oh, well. They did two inspections of my stuff, having a little trouble unsurprisingly working out exactly what the Mantis might in fact be. It looks like a computer keyboard, but… where’s the screen! They also had to dust my hands I guess to see if I might have some kind of residue on them.

Anyhow, once I put myself back together again we made our way to the coffee line as my wife got a free one with the parking reservation and I wanted some in preparation for a long day.

The rest of the wait was fairly uneventful, nearly 2 hours because hey it’s better to be early than late. I thought someone else from my employer would show up, but as we sat there in the terminal no one did.

“Now boarding American Airlines Flight 5545, with service to Washington Regan Airport.” We make our way to the line for preboarding, as usual, and my wife tells the gate agent I am blind as they initially say we are not eligible to board yet. We are on an extremely narrow-body Regional Jet, so have to just about turn sidwways to make our way to seats way back on row 20. I learned something new about airplane seat configuration, too: when I first saw our tickets, I noticed it said 20A and 20c.

“Wait, someone’s gonna be sitting in between us?” I thought. But no, there are no middle seats on this aircraft. So I assume any window and aisle seats will be A and C, and F and D respectively. The middles, if there, will be B and E. Interesting stuff, if you’re a nerd like I am.

We took off pretty much on time, shortly before 11 AM, and had barely completed our climb before we began descending. We mostly just sat there and made small talk, as you really didn’t even have time to get anything out. I suppose even with those security hassles, getting there that quickly still beats driving.

As it turns out, one other person from LCI was aboard but he couldn’t catch us before we got to our seats. He did get an Uber for us all and we piled in to make the short jaunt to the Hyatt Regency Crystal City, which is an airport hotel. It took them only a few minutes to get our room ready, so we ventured up in the ear-popping elevator to the 17th floor to deposit our luggage.

Flying, even a short distance, tends to make one hungry. So the next thing we did was locate the hotel’s featured restaurant, Cinnabar. I’m not really sure why it was called Cinnabar, as it is a full-service, sit-down restaurant. Their food was delicious but expensive. I had a chicken sandwich with cheese, mayo, and tomatoes. I guess I ate too many of the fries though, as my wife regularly chides me for doing, because I couldn’t finish that entire fairly large sandwich.

Not much else happened prior to dinner. We went and officially checked into the NIB Training Conference and Expo, collecting our lanyards and my Employee of the Year swag. We also had to attend an Employee of the Year orientation at 3, where we discovered how many of us there were (like 70 people). I was excited, but parts of me became overwhelmed quickly because of my hearing problems among such large crowds.

And speaking of crowds, prior to dinner we dropped in on the Welcome Reception. This was open to all conference attendees, and it sounded like one full-on roar as we huddled in the hotel’s basement-level vault. I stood in a corner and sipped on a Corona, feeling nice and reflecting on how I got here.

And finally, there was dinner. It was a simple affair, served buffet-style, with chicken, broccoli, and potatoes. There was supposed to be a Murder Mystery presented along with our meals, and I think it did happen later, but it took them a little while to get everything together. This is because it was to involve the audience in some kind of who-dun-it, where they acted out parts based on their role in the so-called murder. My wife and I didn’t stay to hear that part though, as the day and all its activities had caught up with us. We again rode that elevator into the sky, headed into our room, and called it a night.

More in Tuesday’s post, including a description of the room and some of its features.

FRIENDS CAFE: A Summation of the Rest

Posted on by John

Well, as it turns out, not a whole lot happens after Sunday. But, that is alright, as I very much needed the unwinding.

Ok, I am certain that I bring drippiness with me on any vacation I take. Just as happened to me last year when I went to Tampa, I really don’t get any sunshine down in Louisiana.

Monday: I wake at about 9, bringing in the day the same way as I had before. Just laying back, listening to 105.9, a soul station in Lafayette that someone has recommended I check out. As I do this, I read yet more of the Armstrong book.

After coffee and biscuits, we basically collapse into the rockers and sofas where we remain parked for nearly all day, listening to a TV country station. Well she doesn’t remain parked, actually. Despite still feeling yucky, she leaves to get the car ready for the return trip to New Orleans and grab us some yummy food. She brings us back a huge plate of chicken strips with fat fries and an unusual dip.

Other than this, I simply revel in the idea of just being, worrying about nothing except inhaling and enjoying the next breath, and of course cool conversation that comes and goes as we please.

On this day, as we had some on the day prior, we talk about the differences between the US and Australia. We conclude that while blind people may generally have more opportunities here, both of these fine countries still have work to do before their citizens with such disabilities really have a shot at the job and life choices they want. He is an advocate in the land down under, and I in many respects have come to see him as a sort of mentor, at least someone to whom I could look up to. I want to be a louder voice in this grand community, but have to get better at getting my voice heard. I think maybe I’ll get there fairly soon, but that remains to be seen.

I also make a silly comment about life down under.

“Everyone in Australia is upside down!”

“Upside down?” he asks.

“Yeah, relative to us. Isn’t that odd?”

This amuses us both. I hadn’t really understood what was meant by the phrase “the earth is round until I was 17 or so, due to someone’s patient explanation of how it is in fact like the globe I’ve felt many times.

On Monday night, we do watch the movie God Is Dead. It is an interesting story about a college professor who attempts to get his philosophy class to declare in writing and by signing their name to it before class starts that God doesn’t actually exist. One student refuses to do this, and is thus thrust into a semester where he must present evidence to the contrary. The movie is fast moving, and yet still thought-provoking.

Early Tuesday: We have initially planned to go to New Orleans’ French Quarter, so I wake by 6:30, not knowing at what time things will get started. But he has had trouble sleeping the night before and she is still dealing with this sickness. We soon learn that it is the flu, of the type that can’t be stopped with this season’s vaccine. I’m amazed I’ve managed to avoid it thus far.

Anyway, because of all these things, we don’t actually leave until nearly 12 PM. They decide that, due to the likely crush of traffic, cold weather, and general lack of time, we will go ahead and head for the airport instead. This is ok, it just means I have to plan another trip down to stop by and thoroughly tour New Orleans, probably when it’s warmer out.

On the way to the airport, we make what turns out to be a crazy trip to a place called Brick Oven Pizza. The GPS first leads us around the block, then up onto an unnecessary road that takes several minutes to traverse. I am surprised she doesn’t just give up.

Finally at the restaurant, I get an Italian personal pizza with sausages, peparoni, mozzarella, and some veggies. I manage to eat half of it, allowing the server to wrap the rest in see-through plastic in the hopes that maybe security won’t throw it away.

Then off to make the somewhat sad trip back to my humble abode. Though I resist it at first, I finally allow these people to put me into a wheelchair and zip me to security that way. That always makes me feel silly.

I check out some generally boring bowl games until it is time to board the flight at 6:20 for a 7:00 departure. The couple beside me, I think the woman is American and the man Mexican, are headed to Miami to visit family. Ah, how I long to go down there and stay for a week or so.

On my next flight, from Atlanta to Raleigh, I meet a woman and her mom who are returning from a wedding in Fort Meyers, Florida. I would go there as well. This kind woman offers to assist me both onto and off of the aircraft, probably getting appreciative nods and smiles from tired agents and flight attendants.

Finally back at Raleigh Durham International Airport, I have the individual who comes to collect e from this woman take me outside where I slide into a waiting airport taxi. When the driver is unable to understand the address I try to give him, I just plug it into my phone and have my GPS issue the directions out loud. This isn’t a bad idea actually, as I can then be reasonably certain that we are taking the expected streets and I’m not getting the runaround. I mercifully get home at 1 AM, message all who care to let them know I’ve made it, and slide under the covers.

And that is the end of my wonderful trip to the state of Louisiana. As I said earlier in this entry, the question isn’t if but when I will return. Heck, maybe I’ll go and find my wife there. Ha, ha. That wrapped 2014, and I am ecstatic to see what kinds of excitement 2015 has in store. Hope your year has gotten off to a good start. More probably quicker than I know.

FRIENDS CAFE: Kind Servers and Craw-fishy

Posted on by John

I will use the overarching title “Friends Café” for my trip to Louisiana, both because it’s the translation of an actual place we visited, and because it applies to pretty much everything I experienced on this journey. Never have I seen truer examples of “Southern hospitality” than I have in this fine state. So, let’s begin the journey shall we?

Friday, December 26

3:20 AM, I make my halting way out to the curb, absorbing the absolute quiet and clear cold that are present on this post-Christmas night. As the duffel bag’s strap digs into my shoulder, I hope that my prearranged taxi does show up at 3:30, for I have no other viable options that I can think of. 3:22, 3:24, and finally it pulls up at 3:27; actually three minutes early. Well done!

I hop in and nearly doze, warming my digits in the heat stream as the driver, from a Middle Eastern country I think, chatters about perceived differences between Christianity and Islam.

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asks.

I think his take-home message is that death exists to keep us from doing things that are too far out there, and that it also focuses us on finding our purpose. We should also strive to live the best we can while in this body. I can agree with those conclusions. I think more than anything though, he’s just talking to keep himself awake long enough to reach Raleigh-Durham International Airport, an 18-minute ride along Durham Freeway and Highway 40 according to Google Maps.

We do reach the building, and I am disgorged at the Delta Terminal. A woman who says she is on her way to Detroit helps me to the check-in counter, but I do not get anymore time to speak to her. Really, I suppose that few people feel like speaking at 4 AM, as even the worker who is guiding me says the bare minimum.

At the ever-so-fun security checkpoint, I am pulled aside and wanded, even having the palms of my hands scanned. Fun times. Then down to my gate, where I sit for about 15 minutes before being silently ushered aboard.

The first flight to Atlanta departs promptly at 5:10. I am annoyed for most of it, because the Braille display absolutely refuses to cooperate. Airplane mode has shut down Bluetooth, and when I attempt to re-enable it I still can’t regenerate the connection. I have since come to the conclusion that it is better to turn on Bluetooth immediately after going into airplane mode, and not once I plan to actually use the display.

I have brought two books onboard with me: Louis Armstrong’s New Orleans, an exhaustive piece about that city’s musical, Jim Crow, and other history as it relates to that jazz great; and Buccaneer by Maycay Beeler, a true crime story about a drug dealer who has all sorts of adventures transporting product and eventually lands in prison. I find the latter to be a better airplane read, as the chapters are generally short and action-packed enough to hold my interest.

After having guzzled a cup of coffee to also give me juice for the day, we touch down in Atlanta where I am to wait another hour and a half for my final flight to New Orleans. No one talks to me at this point, so I finally fight the display and get it working, and chat with people online.

The next flight is relatively uneventful and on time, so I just sit and enjoy this one. On both of these trips, well really all four, I have been placed in right-side aisle seats. This means I have difficulty engaging seatmates in discussion, since I can’t hear particularly well in my right ear. In the small talk I do manage on the way to the Big Easy, I ascertain that the person beside me is from Massachusetts and is visiting family.

“It may be kind of cold out there,” she says: “but I’ll still enjoy it!”

As we disembark, the flight attendant insists that I must try beignets and of course that other Louisiana thing: crawfish. An agent then shows up, whisks me into the airport, and since I’ve managed not to check a bag, straight out to where my party awaits.

I have come to see two individuals with whom I serve on the board of the Norrie Disease Association, mostly for the vacation and fun chatter that would ensue. They are both due to make the long trek to Australia, another place I would very much like to visit, at about the time that I return to the shop for work. The woman who is hosting me at her place actually resides in Lafayette, which is about as far from New Orleans as Charlotte is from Durham. I suppose I should have known this, but still end up feeling a bit bad for not flying straight into Lafayette. That choice does save me $100 at least, though.

Before beginning that drive, we stop at IHOP for a quick bite. I opt for a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich and fries. They really give me two, and I can barely eat even one of them! This is only the beginning of my food consumption in that great state. I also have fun talking to the server in there who asks “what are you doing with that phone!” I think she was surprised at how I could even operate an iPhone. She is fun, funny, and cool, and keeps watching me for most of the time I am there.

On the road again, the guy and I in back start conversing about topics as wide-ranging as independence for blind folks, the pending big changes in the Norrie Disease Association, and what we want out of life in general. Eventually we start to drift off, and she turns on the radio probably to stave off the silence and keep going. After nearly 3 hours, we arrive at her place.

It is a comfortable little house with a 1-car garage. I am given a quick tour: shown where the two bathrooms, stairs, and the guestroom where I will sleep are located. I am then ushered to the little rocker where I immediately get comfortable, wrapping in an LSU blanket and enjoying the warmth of a fire. I quickly adopt this chair as “mine” during my stay there.

Not much happens until dinner, where I get to try crawfish for the first time. It is in a pie that they get from a place down the street called Pouparts French Bakery, kind of like a chicken pot pie type thing. There seems to be some other filling inside of it too: consisting primarily of the “trinity”: onions, bell pepper, and celery, and I enjoy it. I don’t notice much taste in the fish itself, but it might be hard to distinguish within that context. Accompanying that, we have a delicious salad. She accidentally gives me the one with Caesar (sp?) and he the ranch dressing, but I certainly don’t mind. It is delicious and full of flavor. There is also a potato covered in flecks of bacon and cheese. MMM.

And that just about wraps up Friday. As the weather turns gloomier, we opt to just stay inside and call it a night early. I am pretty tired, so take a bottle of water upstairs, crawl under the covers to catch some football on the phone, and soon enough give in to dreamland.

The Real Deal 5: Show Over, What Next

Posted on by John

For many, the show doesn’t end till Saturday, July 19. But my time is up on Wednesday the 16, a day I haven’t been looking forward to.

I have to think that I have come up with the most ingenius packing solution ever. I’d just taken all of my clothes out on arrival, and put each outfit back into the bag once I was done wearing it. Thus, really nothing to do prior to departure but make sure I’ve collected all newly acquired goods and found somewhere to squeeze them in. It wouldn’t do to forget my $50 Bluetooth speaker!

I’d set the alarm as a precautionary measure, but don’t need it. I am awake by 6:15, and out of the door in an hour. In the elevator vestibule back on the main floor, I meet two of the most well-known individuals in the ACB who assist me to the check-out desk. We take an outdoor shortcut that I wish I’d known about earlier.

As soon as I turn in my keys, I step outside to find that my super shuttle vehicle is already there. It is only 7:40 and they aren’t actually due to pick me up till 8. I think a couple of others join us as well, and so it takes a minute to get everything stowed and all inside. Soon enough though, we bid the Riviera Hotel adieu and head back towards McCarran International Airport.

Despite having had several flights without being tagged due to an expired ID, I am not surprised when they call me asaide for this issue again as they had in Raleigh. It seems like once that cat is out of the bag, it won’t be put back in. So, I must in fact do something about it now, a truth that is proving harder to rectify than it should. The darn DMV isn’t really open in a way that accommodates working people! All of the other three-letter acronymed government agencies probably don’t like me either. It will be dealt with eventually, somehow.

In any event, I am far less rattled this time by being subjected to a more aggressive security apparatus. I am mostly relieved that I will indeed get to depart Las Vegas. I had started to contemplate how I would get an apartment, job, etc there. Kidding, I think.

My flight departs at 9:30, and so by the time all of that is done I have only to stand at my gate for 10 minutes while waiting for a flight attendant to run over from a just-landed plane so we can have a full crew. I should’ve recorded the silliness of those attendants. I think her name is Sally, and she has us all laughing from the second she starts talking.

I also talk to my seat mate, an older woman who says she had been a real estate broker, but retired since 1980 to travel the world. Can I get that job? She also states that her husband wears hearing aids as wel, having lost his hearing due to age. They live in a small town outside of San Francisco, and have traveled from SFO to RDU, where they will then be driven to an NC town called Reidsville to meet family. I’ve heard of this place, but never been there.

Once airborne, I have three bags of peanuts, a pack of cheese crackers, two bags of chocolate chip cookies, and some kind of delicious chips. Fear not though, I don’t actually eat all of that while onboard. I just stash some of it in my tote for consumption later. I opt to purchase WiFi, because it is a 4 and a half hour flight and my phone is at 99% charge. I was most wanting to hear the NLS Talking Books narrator speak during ACB General Session, so I scrambled to get the WiFi set up and hoped perhaps they’d be slightly delayed as they usually are. Only this time, she seems to have spoken on time! Bah, I missed it.

Not much else of substance happens.
After flying around some “weather” we arrive more or less on time.

“In the airline industry,” Sally begins as soon as we touch down: “many say that landings are like a box of chocolates. Ya never know what you’re gonna get. Wouldn’t you say that one was coconut cream?” This drew clapping from the cabin.

Bladder mercifully emptied inside of the airport restroom, I head downstairs to await the unnerving bag reclamation process. I really start to fear that mine will not arrive, as it is just about the last to come trundling through, but finally it does show up.

At this point, the time change already begins to descend upon me like a wave. Still, I choose to catch the bus back home and save more dough. While waiting, I meet an individual who says he has flown in from Seattle and is barely remaining upright too.

And that is pretty much the meat of my trip. I’ve spent most of my summer counting down to it, and now that it has come and gone I’m not sure how else to remain motivated. The first couple of working days back, Thursday and Friday, were excruciating, especially as we’d run out of our normal work and were doing some other blah task. I finally started to adapt on Friday afternoon though, and did better with it today. Still it has me feeling, lonely? somewhat depressed? I just don’t know. Needing to move on! But trying desperately to figure out where to. We shall see. More whenever there are new developments.

I definitely enjoyed my time at convention and the people I hung out with, friends new and old. Thank you for a nice time.

Summer Time, Current and Past

Posted on by John

Welcome to summer! My most favorite season of the year, when the hot days don’t end and the cold beverages flow freely. When I can sit outside all day and meet so many different people it makes my head spin.

I’ve spent much of this weekend, which has turned out to be superb weatherwise, sitting outside and reflecting on the summer camps I attended as a child, back before I had any conception of the kind of work I’d likely be doing as an adult.

The first of these was a five-week program at the Governor Moorehead School for the Blind in Raleigh that had been designed to help us not only have fun, but also be further educated on daily living skills, academic material, and sports pursuits. The thing I remember most, and remember hating most, was being taught to swim! I bet some of the poor folks who had to teach my crazy cousins and me to do that still bear the markings on their wrists.

RELATED: A Step Back in Time: My Trip to a GMS Talent Show

After about five years of that fun, we began to age out of GMS and started attending another place called Camp Dogwood in a small town near Lake Norman, about 45 minutes away from Charlotte. The thing that still amuses me about that was how fearful I had been when my sighted peers told me that I was going to a place where I’d be learning to hunt and shoot ducks and other land and water animals. Like they had any idea.

What we did do, and the activity that I’d say was most prominent in my mind, is go tubing. This involves sitting in a circular tube that has been tied to a speed boat with a rope. The tube is then sucked through the water, bouncing and threatening to jar its occupant into the air. This was doubly fun for me, a small person, as the boat’s driver, often a lifeguard, tried valiantly to flip the bigger person who rode in the tube beside me. Many times he would indeed be tossed, as I still hung on white-knuckled and nearly sideways in the water. I think it’s actually a lot harder to get a small person off. Ah, what fun!

We also went horseback riding. Usually, we’d just lope around the corral at a leisurely pace, but once the person walking my horse said she was bored. I thought she’d taken me on a gallop, but have since been informed by an avid rider that if I found it bumpy, it was most likely only a trot. A gallop should feel pretty smooth somehow. Ok? Well, I need to experience that someday, too.

Nowadays, my summer excursions tend to look less like that, and more involve a trip to an urban area where I can indulge in all sorts of fun events around me. I currently have twenty days till my big trip of this season and the year: a jaunt to Las Vegas to attend some of the American Council of the Blind’s conference and convention. I’ve planned a fairly light itinerary, so that I have a lot of flexibility to meet people and hang out on the fly. I might choose to register for more events once I arrive, if I am still able to, but if most of them are full I won’t mind. Even just chilling in the hotel with new friends would be fine. A list of my planned activities are below, for those who want to meet me there:

  • 7/12 8:35 PM Arrive aboard Southwest Airlines Flight 3112 (Please no delays!)
  • 7/13 8:30 AM Probable wake-up time (How hard will I get hit by jet lag?)
  • 7/13 1-3 PM City Bus Tour 3 (I know they’ll prob describe on PA what we pass, but the GPS nerd in me can’t wait to use it to follow along!)
  • 7/13 5-6 PM How Tweet It Is (What they’re calling their tweet-up, I think this is where I’ll meet most of you for first time. Talk loudly to me! Ok!)
  • 7/14 4 PM (I think?) Talent Showcase Auditions (I’m not entirely sure if I’ve got the guts to do this or can even still sing these days. If not, maybe I’ll just go watch)
  • 7/16 9:30 AM Depart Las Vegas on Southwest Airlines Flight 4135

So as you can see, I have a lot of blank space to fill in. Help me do so!

Other than that, I hope to do something for my birthday. I want either to go back to DC, because I still have many to meet there; to Chicago so I can finally attend the Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me show that I’m supposed to catch; or perhaps down to the ocean. Really, I’d like to do all three! Sadly, my place of employment doesn’t give me enough days off for that. Bah-humbug.

Christmas Vacation 3: Tampa Landing

Posted on by John

I suppose that I am a creature of extreme routine. One of my other requirements when traveling, along with finding and listening to local radio stations, is to eat from a non-chain, local restaurant. Do you know how hard this is getting to be these days?

Saturday morning arrives, and we lazily slide into the day. We have already decided on a place the previous night: a Greek spot who’s name I unfortunately am not able to recall. The online menu indicates a delicious-sounding pita wrap called Chicken Showarma, with garlic sauce.

We step outside, and I am relieved that there is no rain. However, the sun still chooses not to appear. It just refused to show up while I was there.

We take the short cab ride, and arrive at an echoy building that seems to be pretty much otherwise unpeopled. I put my hearing aids into t-coil mode so that I will be able to understand what is being said without the acoustics getting in the way.

We are escorted to a table by a kind woman named Cynthia. I and the other guy order the chicken showarma, and she gets a veggie wrap, understandably preferring a healthier choice after Friday’s frivolity.

The sandwich is as good as I felt it would be. The bread has a rewarding crunch that compliments the meat’s softness. There are also some vegetables, peppers, and that sauce inside. I wash it down with a glass of good, strong lemonade.

I am impressed by this, and by the overall level of service we receive here. I don’t know if they offer dessert, but whatever the case we opt not to eat anything further. Cynthia tells us to wait inside while the cab comes, and lets us know when it arrives. There is a little aggravation as the cabbie assumes that Cynthia would know where we were going, but this matter seems to be quashed relatively quickly.

Once back at the apartments, I go in with her to meet a cat that she says she acquired because he kind of adopted her.

“I was outside, and I heard him meow,” she said. “He rubbed up against my leg and began to pur, and I had to take him in. I was gonna give him to the humane society,… but I got too attached to let him go after a while.”

He began to pur even as I stroked his fur. Very cute.

I finally get to sit outside in the nearly 80 degree day, no coat or sweater and a short-sleeve shirt, to take in more of my book. Is this what caused me to then catch a common cold once I got back home? Probably, but it was still worth it.

She has one of her friends come to take her to a Family Dollar that is within walking distance. I hadn’t realized that Family Dollar actually sells some light groceries, although I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, as an NPR story noted that nearly all stores are trying to be a little of everything to capture an increasingly fragmented audience.

They get me a delicious bag of smallish cookie-looking things that are covered in chocolate and pretty good! She also gets a box of cereal for Sunday morning and some soda to eat with what we have at night.

I give up on my quest for sunshine once she returns, going back to the guy’s apartment in which I was staying to catch the last of UNC’s bowl game, where they steamrolled the University of Cincinnati in Charlotte. I then just drift until dinner time, nibble on the leftover pizza from Thursday night, play a game of Farkle within the Dice World iPhone app with her, and bed down pretty early. This is because she has a headache, and he has come down with a stomach bug. I count myself fortunate that I don’t seem to have caught that yet.

Sunday morning departure comes pretty early, at 7:40 precisely. Before that though, my bag of toiletries grows legs and disappears. Given that none of us three has working eyes, I don’t even begin to try and relocate the darn things again. The Super Shuttle’s arrival windo had been 740-7:55, and they get there at the beginning of said. We bid adieu, and I am off.

Going To Carolina, Not in My Mind Audio

The flight leaves at 10:10 AM, and this time I am boarded first. I believe that is because I have the preboarding sleeve, whereas I’d had my new friend print the pass at the check-in kiosk back at RDU. I forgot to mention that that involved a harrowing search through my endless plastic cards for my ID, which I finally, happily, located.

I choose the second seat back from the first row of coach, and settle in. A couple sits beside me, the woman right next to me telling me that they are bound to see their grandkids in smalltown Wake County. They will return the next night. I get coffee this time, and am surprised that it is hot and tastes fresh.

This flight has WiFi for $8, which I feel isn’t worth it for an hour and a half flight, and free TV offered by the Dish satellite company. You are supposed to be able to watch this programming on a mobile device like a smartphone or tablet, but I can’t actually get the TV to work. The woman beside me finds it hard on her iPad as well, but she hadn’t initially realized that if airplane mode is on, she’d have to enable WiFi to access the Internet. We do enjoy viewing the flight tracker, which tells us how high we are, quickly we’re going, and much time remains. It even gives the current heading. It kind of feels like having GPS.

She tells me that she works for the largest clinic on the west coast of Florida, supporting, I think, 125 doctors. She and her husband also have a nice place right on the water.

Yeah, I don’t do cold weather,” she says on one of the reasons their stay in North Carolina will be so short.

“Where are you from originally,” I ask.

“Connecticut.”

Her husband keeps insisting that he wasn’t looking forward to it either, leading her to try and convince him to just suck it up it for a bit.

And Now We Land (Audio)

This is the first flight I’ve taken since the regulations regarding when electronic equipment can be used, and so I decide to capture what to me are interesting sounds of the coming in and going out. I wish I had left it rolling a bit longer when we touch down, so that perhaps I could have captured the welcome message from the flight attendant. My seatmate says there is a fairly steady rain falling as we make contact with the runway.

By the time I get off though, the rain has largely ended. A perky agent assists me to baggage claim, where it takes a minute to gather my things. Once I do though, we make our way towards the sliding doors, and I slide into the waiting cab with my driver. How convenient that is. She’s the kind of person to whom I only need to occasionally say “uh-huh,” and she’ll keep chatter rolling along. That’s fine with me.

And that largely ends my trip to Tampa Florida. I think this trip showed me that I’ve gained some ability to network, and am a bit better at getting myself where I want to be. Without a doubt, my iPhone certainly has done a lot to improve that. As we make our way into 2014, I think I may have another trip already taking shape. I’ll be back with more on that though once it fully develops.

Christmas Vacation 2: Tampa Takeoff

Posted on by John

It seemed for most of it that this year would be one in which I remained grounded. No air travel. If that had happened, it would’ve been the first time since 2011 and only the second since prior to August of 2004. I can’t really say what it is about air travel that I find so evocative and desirable, but I suppose it has to do with the likelyhood of meeting new and fascinating people. Plus, that initial feeling of flight is matched by few other things.

One thing I have done frequently this year is ride the rails. I made round trip Amtrak trips to Charlotte in March, late June, late July, mid September, and Thanksgiving. On the Thursday following Christmas, I make my way onboard the packed Charlotte/Raleigh run for the last time in 2013, so that I can get back to Raleigh/Durham International Airport for my flight to Tampa Florida.

I do meet someone on this trip. I at first think she is a kid, but as I listen to her voice, I am actually not able to determine her age. She says she’s knitting a sweater that will be her own.

She first tells me that she generally likes to stay quiet, and then that she is going to sleep. I get the hint, though she’d said that I hadn’t been bugging her when first chatting, and pull out my phone to read and tweet for the duration of the trip.

In Durham, after debating with myself for a time, I opt to have my taxi driver to take me home so that I can swap out the giant bag of clothes I’d taken to Charlotte for a leaner set more suitable to warm climates. I also take out bulky items from my carry-on, so that it can slide comfortably under the seat in front of me.

My driver and I have agreed on a departure time to the airport of 4:15, as I have a 7:30 flight and she doesn’t wish to battle rush hour traffic in trying to get me there. I am not surprised though that she is already sitting outside at 4. She doesn’t play around when it comes to time, and works hard to make sure that her loyal customers get to where they need to be when they need to be. She kind of canned someone that had been working under her, because that person opted to take someone else home from the megabus when she was to take me after my DC trip. I really do respect that and her.

At the airport, the driver pairs me with another passenger so that she can skidaddle back to her cab before she is ticketed. I enjoy conversing with this passenger, who is going to Chicago, as we inch our way through the line toward the check-in kiosk. She says that she runs her own business, and suggests that people like her do have a need for folks who are learning to build websites, as I am. I’m always relieved to hear this. We exchange contact info and part ways before reaching the security line.

At the line, I make the mistake while attempting to take off my shoes of leaning against the pole that brackets the scanner, setting it off. I probably nearly cause a security breech, but all ends well. I am through and to the departures lounge fairly quickly after this.

I had already decided that I would purchase something to eat, in what I now call the price-gouging area. For a not-so-big cheese burger and perhaps 15 fries, I pay an insane $10! But, it does hold me for a little while.

After a slight delay, about which I learned through the Southwest Airlines iPhone app, we begin the somewhat chaotic boarding process. I thought before doing this that I wouldn’t like the idea of not having assigned seats, but actually it is nice as I can then choose the exact configuration I prefer: a right-side window seat. This optimizes the chances that I will be able to hear the passenger sitting next to me.

Prepare for Takeoff: Audio

A man chooses to sit beside me, not saying much other than to alert me that the flight attendant has arrived for beverage service. I get some sprite, often a bad idea but not too punishing to the bladder this time. I just recline a bit and disappear into my story until we arrive.

Once on the ground in Tampa, I have an agent escort me to the Super Shuttle counter, where I have reserved my ride to my friend’s apartment via their very usable iPhone app. I am informed that my wait for a van will be 30 minutes, but in actuality it’s about 5-7. I certainly wouldn’t have minded anyway.

As usual, I play with Ariadne GPS as we bounce through town, myself and a female and male passenger. Everyone else is quiet. My friend resides in the Northeastern corner of the city, not far from the University of South Florida, and the airport is in the Southwest. So, it’s about a 20-minute ride.

I meet my friend, actually they are also a male and female, in the guy’s place. They stay within walking distance with each other, and so visit quite often. They hook me up with a couple of slices of pizza hut’s Stuffed Crust, and we chat deep into the night about any and everything. This is my second time visiting them, as I had also done so while they resided in Flint, Michigan. They are fun.

Friday finds me rested on a couch bed, again after a night of odd dreams. I think I dream oddly whenever I’m not in my own bed. I awake a little after 8 to listen to local radio and some of NPR’s Weekend Edition on Tampa’s NPR affiliate, WUSF.

I shower, and then we venture out into the rainy day to acquire some food. We choose to go to Steak and Shake (Audio), because it is relatively close by. In addition to the mentioned chili cheese dog and fries, I also have a big, strawberry and banana milk shake. She chooses a brownie shake on recommendation of our server, and he opts not to have a shake at all. I think he polishes hers off, though.

I can’t come to Florida without spending some time outside. I try to on Friday, playing with the phone for about 45 minutes, but eventually give in to the gloom. While it is definitely warmer than in North Carolina, the lack of sunshine means that it is still a bit on the cool side. So, I spend the rest of that day inside, listening to Bowl games and having more food, this time a sausage pepper trio sub from Domino’s. I am fine with this, as I wanted mostly to unwind and unburden myself.

I will wrap up my Tampa trip in a subsequent entry. And then, hopefully, I’ll wrap up 2013! I guess that’ll likely happen on New Year’s Day, but we shall see.

Book Review: Cruising Attitude, by Heather Poole

Posted on by John

Right on the heels of my Audio Mo challenge success, well so-so that is, I’ve learned through a blogger I met on Twitter via AudioMo of another challenge that might well be more up my alley. This one, hash tagged #31WriteNow, dares its participants to write a blog post every day for the month of August. I have absolutely no idea if I can live up to that kind of commitment these days, and especially given that I’m starting class and have some kind of job, no matter how tenuous the latter may be at the moment. But, I can always use the stimulation of the attempt.
I’ve cashed it in on this week regarding the day job, opting to take tomorrow off and work on some more productive things. We did nearly nothing all of this week, but have some hope that things will begin to revive next Monday. We’re just having to pound through the summer doldrums.
My section partner didn’t show up today either, meaning I had no one to talk to. So I decided to start Cruising Attitude: Tales of Crashpads, Crew Drama, and Crazy Passengers at 35,000 Feet, by Heather Poole.
A well-known flight attendant via Twitter and other social media forums, I’ve followed Poole for almost 4 years now. But upon already reading about a quarter of this book in one sitting, I can say that I hadn’t known as much as I thought about what her job really entailed.
Her tales begin with a couple of fairly recent stories about passengers experiencing medical issues onboard and the measures taken to assist them. Some were humorous, and others were sad. With these, Poole immediately establishes in the reader some of the wild emotional swings experienced by one who engages in this line of work.
In the following chapters, she takes us through her journey into being a flight attendant, noting that this was initially meant to be a short job while she awaited her bigger career as, well something. Just as so many of us young folk struggle with, Poole was having a hard time figuring out just what she’d wanna do.
After an adventure-filled stint with a small, very low budget carrier, she managed to make her jump to the big dogs of the sky. This involved a move to New York City that required quick adjustment to a life that she’d not anticipated and while building a friendship with a southerner who was also adjusting to the flight attendant role.
I obviously have a ways to go. But I’m sure that if her descriptions of intense training at a flight attendant academy, preparation for and survival of life in a chaotic Queens-area crashpad, and encounters with intimidating co-workers as she got started are any indication, her remaining stories will be a lot of fun.
I particularly enjoy Poole’s writing style. It gives the impression that one is sitting across the table and asking questions about how she got to this point. It’s all very conversational. As one who can’t get enough of travel stories, see my enjoyment of the Betty In the Sky with A Suitcase podcast, I unquestionably love this book. This book also brings home what I often hear attendants say: their job is about more than just serving drinks and pretzles. It’s about keeping us safe when we choose to be suspended far above the ground in a metal tube, and any attendant worth his or her salt really takes that seriously. If you check it out, you’ll see what I mean.