When I travel, I love to watch the people. I’m always fascinated to see what people will try to get through the security check. In LA a few years back, the TSA people were very interested in what a lady had in her bag, so I watched as they opened it and pulled enough electronics to open a Radio Shack, including one of those old fax machines with a phone receiver on the side. Not sure why that material couldn’t be shipped, or checked in with her other luggage, but it amused me. Almost every time I travel, I see someone get busted trying to get a bottle of water through. Even with 30 signs and recorded voice messages blaring every five minutes throughout the airport, they feel this rule doesn’t apply to them. Today, the lady in front of me INSISTED she didn’t have a bottle of water that they just saw on the x-ray. They started pulling her bag apart and showed it to her. She claims she didn’t know how it got in there. OK, is this one of the people we need to go over the “Did someone, other than you, pack your bag?” I always thought that was a stupid question, but now I want this lady pulled aside and strip searched, just to be sure she doesn’t have any explosives she “didn’t know about.”
My favorite thing from today was when the airport personnel wheeled a little old lady to the terminal and parked her just across from me. She appeared to be in her 80’s. She tried to strike up a conversation with a lady sitting near her, but the lady said she spoke very little English, just French. That didn’t stop grandma from continuing her conversation with Frenchy. Grandma said, and I quote, ”This is the first time they let me leave my shoes on at security. They usually make me take them off and they are a bitch to put back on.” Now maybe your grandma cusses, but mine didn’t, so I damn near shit myself when I heard her. My grandmas were very sweet and proper and I don’t think I ever heard either of them say anything stronger than “shoot.” This little tidbit made my whole trip.
I usually roam through the gift shop of every airport I’m in, if I have time. That includes the Des Moines airport, as I leave. I’m usually at the airport way too early, paranoid I will miss my flight, so time is rarely an issue. Today I watched as a man, probably in his 60’s, moved every black cover from the dirty magazines so he could sneak a peek. He didn’t choose one, but that would have made a good photo if I could have got him to pose with it. I always buy a Coke after the security checkpoint, since they find the bottle I’m trying to sneak in every time. The rules shouldn’t apply to my precious Coke.
The last couple of times I have flown out of DSM, I went out of the B terminal, but today I got to depart from the A terminal, which was recently redone. I think they did a pretty good job. They added a bunch of chairs that have power outlets built in. They have network USB outlets as well, but I’m not risking my work computer by trying it out. Not sure what it does, but curiosity is not going to kill this cat. I looked to see if they had free wireless, but no go. I did find a “Hotspot” that was unsecure and thought about trying to connect, but I’m too chicken.
It’s was a beautiful day in Des Moines, sunny and in the 40’s, which is fine by me. It was a little windy, so my hair was a mess by the time I got to the terminal. I forgot that the DSM airport is also in the midst of a major redo in other parts, so now they have a second floor enclosed walkway to get from the parking garage to the terminal. Now it won’t be nearly as cold getting inside during the winter. I have to say, for a small airport, it is really nice. If I had to compare to the other airports that I have been in, to this one, DSM would be in my top 5. Another nice one is the Minneapolis airport, which I was in a few years back. The other airports I was in today were Chicago and Akron/Canton. Yes, I’m in Akron Ohio, don’t be jealous. It’s rainy and cold here and the temps are supposed to be lower than at home. That sucks, would like to be home on the nice days. I’m only here for a few days, so I better soak up Ohio.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Father of the Year, and other crap.
I told this story to my sister-in-law the other day, and she felt it was worthy of a post, so here it is.
Makiah is really into playing football right now. He plays with his friends every day after school. He loves to go in the front yard and play catch, so we do it often. The neighbor kids come up and I'm throwing the ball to 5 kids, who are knocking each other out to get the ball. They play during recess at school, so one of the neighbor kids took his ball to school. I happen to be picking the kids up from school that day, all three of mine and the three neighbor kids. While I'm on the playground, waiting for all six to show up, Makiah gets the football and wants me to throw it too him. He takes off across the playground, and I do the typical guy thing, and have him go deep. I can throw it far, right? He runs about 20 yards out and I give the ball a chuck, and drill him right in the eye. Now he is trying to not cry, all the while holding his eye and walking back to me. He holds back the tears, and we load up the van and head home. He thinks he needs an ice pack, but I distract him with the promise to play catch in the front yard. We head out, the neighbor kids show up, and we start to play again. It's a lot of fun, and the game is going well, until I plunk him in the eye again. Again he holds back the tears, but if he ever goes blind in one eye, you might be able to look back on that day as the cause. My Father of the Year award has been put on hold.
Just to prove that I will point out my own dipshit moves, as well as those around me, I will share one of my biggest dumbass moves in quite awhile. I went to lunch with a few coworkers on Friday, and one of them drove. I volunteered to ride in the backseat of his truck. It is usually difficult for me to ride in backseats because of my long legs, but I seem to always end up in the front, so I figured it was my turn. When we arrived at the restaurant, I was trying to figure out how to pry myself out of the truck and knew I needed leverage. I grabbed the door jamb and started to pull myself out, when the front seat rider closed his door, which shared the same jamb I'm currently using. Yes, now my hand has been slammed in the door. I think I yelped like a beaten puppy, but I can't say for sure. I tried to pull my fingers out of the bear trap, but nothing. I have now began my "My fingers are in the door" cry, which my front seat mate hears and begins to pull frantically on the door, which is locked. The driver has begun his walk into the restaurant, keys in his pocket, when he hears the front seat guy yell to unlock the door. The driver is fumbling for his keys and not really sure why, so I reach into the front seat to free myself. I try to grab the lock to manually undo it, but it's one of the new cars that when locked, the knob is virtually inside the door. This makes it hard for a thief to use a coat hanger to unlock, but when you are an idiot with your fingers slammed in a door, it's a bit frustrating. I'm able to get enough of a grip on the lock, lift it and my front seat mate finally releases the metal death grip on my phalanges. From the get go, I didn't think anything was broken, and I still don't, but the "bad finger" is purple and sore. The other fingers had deep grooves on them on Friday, but they all seem fine now. I felt like a 5 year old, getting their fingers closed in a door, which I have seen. The difference? Their fingers are small and their bones aren't brittle. I got lucky.
Makiah is really into playing football right now. He plays with his friends every day after school. He loves to go in the front yard and play catch, so we do it often. The neighbor kids come up and I'm throwing the ball to 5 kids, who are knocking each other out to get the ball. They play during recess at school, so one of the neighbor kids took his ball to school. I happen to be picking the kids up from school that day, all three of mine and the three neighbor kids. While I'm on the playground, waiting for all six to show up, Makiah gets the football and wants me to throw it too him. He takes off across the playground, and I do the typical guy thing, and have him go deep. I can throw it far, right? He runs about 20 yards out and I give the ball a chuck, and drill him right in the eye. Now he is trying to not cry, all the while holding his eye and walking back to me. He holds back the tears, and we load up the van and head home. He thinks he needs an ice pack, but I distract him with the promise to play catch in the front yard. We head out, the neighbor kids show up, and we start to play again. It's a lot of fun, and the game is going well, until I plunk him in the eye again. Again he holds back the tears, but if he ever goes blind in one eye, you might be able to look back on that day as the cause. My Father of the Year award has been put on hold.
Just to prove that I will point out my own dipshit moves, as well as those around me, I will share one of my biggest dumbass moves in quite awhile. I went to lunch with a few coworkers on Friday, and one of them drove. I volunteered to ride in the backseat of his truck. It is usually difficult for me to ride in backseats because of my long legs, but I seem to always end up in the front, so I figured it was my turn. When we arrived at the restaurant, I was trying to figure out how to pry myself out of the truck and knew I needed leverage. I grabbed the door jamb and started to pull myself out, when the front seat rider closed his door, which shared the same jamb I'm currently using. Yes, now my hand has been slammed in the door. I think I yelped like a beaten puppy, but I can't say for sure. I tried to pull my fingers out of the bear trap, but nothing. I have now began my "My fingers are in the door" cry, which my front seat mate hears and begins to pull frantically on the door, which is locked. The driver has begun his walk into the restaurant, keys in his pocket, when he hears the front seat guy yell to unlock the door. The driver is fumbling for his keys and not really sure why, so I reach into the front seat to free myself. I try to grab the lock to manually undo it, but it's one of the new cars that when locked, the knob is virtually inside the door. This makes it hard for a thief to use a coat hanger to unlock, but when you are an idiot with your fingers slammed in a door, it's a bit frustrating. I'm able to get enough of a grip on the lock, lift it and my front seat mate finally releases the metal death grip on my phalanges. From the get go, I didn't think anything was broken, and I still don't, but the "bad finger" is purple and sore. The other fingers had deep grooves on them on Friday, but they all seem fine now. I felt like a 5 year old, getting their fingers closed in a door, which I have seen. The difference? Their fingers are small and their bones aren't brittle. I got lucky.
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