Post 996. Oh, the party we shall have when we get to 1000.
Okay, there won't REALLY be a party. Maybe I'll have some ice cream with sprinkles instead of sans sprinkles.
Speaking of ice cream with sprinkles, my beloved BK, home of the ginormous 75-cent cone, caught on fire yesterday. I was immediately despondent upon receiving this news. I pray the fire department didn't sprinkle the ice cream machine with anything besides water. I've had to make due with over-priced frozen products from other vendors. It's just not the same.
Everyone in our neck of the woods is talking about the polar vortex that has swooped down upon the Midwest. Seeing that we had an all time low of -30 degrees this morning, it makes sense that weather banter and babbling has gone on non-stop. That said, I'm already over it and ready to talk about the snow we are scheduled to get. But, really: what's another four inches on top of the bazillion we already have?
[Of course, this frigid air means that Global Warming is a crock of shit. I mean, really. This is the coldest day ever recorded in our town. Global warming fanatics are ridiculous..... Hello! I'm being sarcastic. Tongue in cheek. I'm just being snarky about a certain tweet from someone who thinks that cold weather equates fake global warming stories. Sigh.]
A few days ago, I flew a baby plane (a toy plane?) to/from a Kentucky town. Let's face it: when I fly, I prefer the plane have at least an engine per wing, with bonus points for three people in a row. The bigger then plane, the better. This time around, my travels were via a regional jet, key word being jet. If the plane had had propellers, I would not have boarded the flight.
At first, I was quite dubious about this baby plane. It was small enough that the jet way didn't reach to the plane. That made boarding a bit entertaining. The overhead compartments were certainly not made for carry-ons (fine by me) which meant everyone had to check their big bags-on-wheels. I was a bit more dubious when the flight attendant has us spread out so the plane would be balanced....
When you have to spread out to balance the plane, you know it's a small plane. The only other time I have been faced with such a scenario was when we were in Puerto Rico and the plane only held six people.
Before I go further, I must say that I was VERY impressed with the airlines as they had emailed me a few days before the trip and suggested I change the time of my flight. It was a weather-related request. I've never had that happen before, but come to think of it, I don't usually fly when snow storms and polar vortexes are in the neighborhood. I took advantage of the earlier flight, with no fees attached. I took a gander at the seating chart and saw that only six other people had chosen seats for the flight. As someone was sitting next to me, which is ludicrous, I moved my seat a row. (I love technology). I didn't bother changing the flight home, although I would have preferred an earlier in the day flight. Alas, the scheduling of the business event prohibited that change....
The weather was ridiculously cold (as mentioned above), so I was a bit concerned that the flight would be cancelled. Instead, we were doused in de-icing stuff and deemed appropriate to fly. We left the gate later than anticipated but we made up for time on the way. I thank the gods of the tailwind for the timeliness of the flight.
The past few times I've flown, it's been on jumbo planes--the big dawgs. Take off is slow and takes forever, rumbling down the runway. Not on a baby plane. Man, you just about get rolling and you're already in the air, carry-ons sliding from under the seat, down the aisle. I swear there was G-force involved. Holy mother of jet fuel!
I was concerned it would be a turbulent flight, but again I was (thankfully) wrong. It was smooth as silk or butter or a baby's butt or whatever the saying might be. There was no wi-fi nor was there time to do anything but sit down, gulp down a half-glass of water and prepare for landing. I was quite delighted by the whole thing.
As for coming home, there was again cause for concern. With the help of my partner in business crime, I was able to reschedule my flight to the earlier time. (I wanted to kiss her for that. Truly a gift to me.) With the beyond-frigid air and flights getting canceled by the minute, I wanted out of there as fast as possible. Being at a little regional airport came in handy--no one was in the TSA line and there were only like ten gates. I couldn't be late if I tried.
This flight was almost full, but they still had to move a few people to the back so the plane would be balanced. A lady sat down next to me, obviously a friend with a person who sat a row back. I asked her if she'd like to switch with me so she could sit with her friend. Imagine my surprise when she said, no.... adding,
"I'll throw up if I'm turned to talk to her."
I must have had a look of concern on my face, because she reassured me that as long as she was looking forward, she would not puke. I ensured her I would have nothing more to say. I quickly said a prayer to the dear baby Jesus, asking that this lady not puke on me.
I'll admit that I looked for a barf bag, so I'd be ready. I broke out into a little sweat when I noticed I didn't have one. I prayed a little harder. The take off was a bit more turbulent, so I was fearful that might lead to vomit, but thankfully she just looked ahead and stayed true to her word.
Thank the Gods of Air Travel that I got out on that flight, as the one I was originally on got stuck on the ground with mechanical issues. They were stuck on the baby plane at the regional airport for hours. How do I know they were on the plane? Because the updates I was still getting told the story. They had pulled out of the gate and then had mechanical issues. Three hours later, they were cleared to fly. Three hours. I would've given birth. I'd be glad they took time to fix the issue--no one wants to be in the air on a plane with mechanical issues--but, being three hours late and being on a baby plane three hours longer than anticipated.... forget it.
I wondered if a baby plane would be taken seriously at O'Hare. After all, that's the home of some mighty large planes and a lot of flights rumbling in and out. No worries--I saw more regional airplanes than I could even imagine existed and the flight pattern was exactly the same as the previous few flights. I decided baby planes would be just fine as long as storms were nowhere in sight and as long as no one puked on me.
I'll be flying a lot more over the next many months, so my eye will be to the sky and on the seating charts. I'll be non-judgmental when it comes to baby planes. I will always listen to weather emails from the airlines. I'll kiss my pre-TSA status every time I get in line. And....
...yes, I will remain concerned when there are no barf bags in the seat-back holder or when the plane has propellers. [I should add: ...and when Global Warming is deemed fake.]
I have to draw the line somewhere. Barf bags. Jet engines. Science. Sounds vortex-ly wonderful to me.
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