Holiday in DFW or Moscow?

The one good thing about not blogging very often is I get to save up a lot of stories/incidents to blog about later. If I can just remember them all. This travel story happened last December.

On December 28, the last day of my Christmas holiday family visitation trip, the weather forecasters predicted 27 inches of snow at home. As usual, they were completely wrong; we only got 24 inches. But I was far away and unconcerned in unusually balmy weather in Tennessee. With two days to clear the snow from the runway and with the airport within walking distance of home if necessary, I didn't worry.

Amazingly, on my last night away, with humid conditions and a 68 degree temperature, we had a perfect night to sit by the hotel firepit without even a jacket. Two of my brothers were there along with assorted other hotel guests as we relaxed and eventually closed down the bar which proved to be my first mistake as hotel bars generally close at 11:00 or midnight, and I had to get up at 4:00 a.m. to catch a 6:00 a.m. flight home.

One of the other hotel guests opened up a travel bag and pulled out a bottle of whiskey for just such an emergency. When he asked us if we wanted some, my answer of "sure" became my second mistake. We enjoyed conversation late into the night, and I had become completely oblivious to the time. As we staggered back into the hotel, my brother said, "I can't believe it's 3:00 a.m." Crud.

At that point, I decided if I went to sleep I'd never get up for my flight so I just sat on the bed watching tv for an hour trying to stay awake. Finally at 4:00 a.m., I got up to get in the shower as my phone buzzed with a voicemail.

"That can't be good," I thought as I grabbed the phone and played the message.

"Hello, this is We Don't Fly in Snow Airlines. We regret to inform you that your flight from Dallas to Antarctica has been cancelled. However, we have booked you on a later flight which departs on January 2."

"January! That's next year!" I fumed to no one. "Four days? I can't get home for four days?"

I settled down and decided not to panic. I've been in these situations before; I'm sure I can get a flight via standby. I also realized that I could just stay in town for another day or two and at least visit family and catch a flight later in the week.

I checked in at the airport and told the agent that if I could book a later flight, I'd just hang around a few days. She glanced at the long line behind me and suggested that all flights were booked up forever and ever and that I should be happy just to get to Dallas. I figured she might be right, and at least St. Pauli Girl could always drive to Dallas to pick me up. So I headed toward the gate.

I finally collapsed into my seat on the plane ready to sleep for a solid two hours during the flight. An older man in jeans and a straw cowboy sat next to me (normal attire on a flight to Texas). I quickly closed my eyes to signal him not to bother me.

The plane finally took off, and I tried to get comfortable for my nap. I heard a slight buzzing sound and a light rap that slowly grew louder. I opened my eyes and noticed the man next to me humming some sort of chant while patting out time with his hands on his thighs. Then the chant went quiet and suddenly got loud again. I decided the best plan of action would be to ask him about it and see if he could keep it a little quieter.

"That's a lovely hymn you got going there," I said. "What does it mean?"

"Thank you. It doesn't really translate to English. But it basically means, 'hope the plane don't crash.'"

"Keep up the good work," I said as I turned back to the window and closed my eyes.

Thanks to his chanting, we made it safely to Dallas and I was now running on about 20 minutes of sleep in 24 hours. I decided I would treat myself to breakfast plus coffee before my next flight. I liked my chances; with the snow two days old, surely they had plowed the runway by now? As I finished my eggs, my phone received another voicemail.

"Hello, this is See You Next Year Airlines, your 9:30 flight has been cancelled. We booked you on standby on a 2:30 p.m. flight but don't hold your breath. And remember we still have a seat saved for you on that January 2 flight. Have a nice day!"

By the time I had paid my check, and left the restaurant, I looked up at a departures screen to see the 2:30 flight had been cancelled already. I called St. Pauli Girl to relay the good news. Originally, we had planned to drive back to Dallas on the 30th anyway to celebrate my birthday and spend the weekend there. We came up with a brilliant plan that I could just spend the night in Dallas, and she would drive out the next day like we had planned.

I decided I had better talk to a real airline agent to get everything straightened out. After an hour, I made it to the front of the line and spoke to an agent.

I said, "Look my wife is gonna pick me up tomorrow, so just keep me on that January 2 flight just in case. I'll just spend the night here."

Relieved that he didn't have to think or that I wasn't the typical angry psychopath airline passenger, he said, "Would you like a discounted hotel room?"

"Why yes, yes I would. Of course, I suppose I can't check in until this afternoon..."

"Nonsense, an airport shuttle will meet you over there by exit G."

Finally, things were looking up for me... ( to be continued)

Party on, Cliff and Newman!

Who has the best office Christmas parties? The U.S. Postal Service.

The traditional office party usually relies on participants self-catering the party with some array of potluck dishes and treats. If you’re lucky, most of the partygoers will bring items from the local supermarket bakery; if not, you’re stuck with an assortment of bean dips and fruitcakes that make you want to go back to work. But apparently, the postal service just goes to the back room to round up treats that were scheduled to go elsewhere.

Every year, St. Pauli Girl spends a week baking goodies and putting together spices, jams and sauces to send out to the lucky few on our Christmas list. This year she sent over 11 packages via the U.S. Postal Service (she had to use a little red wagon to haul them inside the office). The postal worker asked St. Pauli Girl if the packages contained anything perishable. Fearing it might be more expensive, she said, “no.” Then she thought she heard the worker happily mumbling, “One for them, one for us, one for them, one for us,” as he placed each package in different stacks. Turns out that may have been accurate.

Yesterday, I opened an envelope from the post office which contained a torn off address from one of our packages. The letter stated “this address looks like it fell off one of your packages. If you’d like us to look for the package, please fill out this form so we can better identify it.” Hmmm, a package full of goodies with an address label neatly torn off? They may as well have added: “P.S. Can I have the recipe for that nut roll? Fabulous!”

I suspect some genius postal worker goes through the non-perishable packages, shakes them, and sets aside any that sound suspicious to be enjoyed later at the holiday party. After all, the shipper won’t complain because if he/she does, he/she can be put in postal jail because the shipper lied about the contents being perishable. Victory for the postal party!

But actually, UPS and Fed Ex probably have better parties. While it is illegal to ship alcohol though the U.S. mail, it’s only frowned upon by UPS and Fed Ex. They have a “don’t ask/don’t tell” policy. Actually it’s more like a “don’t tell” or “act lawyerly” philosophy because they will ask what’s in the package. And you have to say something like “cooking supplies” or, in your best Jackie Chiles voice, “yeast samples.”

So while the post office has a guy in the backroom searching for cookies, UPS and Fed Ex has a team of people looking for hooch. End result: a much more entertaining party than the postal service. They also have foolproof logic: it’s not illegal to ship it but we forbid it and so not only do we not have to deliver it, we won’t give you your money back.

The lesson here is that if you’re going to ship holiday gifts, ship a fruitcake. Then get a job at UPS or Fed Ex and enjoy great holiday parties. We apologize to friends and family that did not get their packages. But the post office would like you to know it was delicious.