miami, or . . . . . bust

so after being routed through atlanta, which is under water presently, we get on the plane and on to the tarmac when the storm hits. thunder, lightning and massloads of rain. the captain (i like to think his name is crunch; cap'n crunch) gets on the intercom and starts out with 'folks i don't know if i've ever seen it rain this hard'

comforting words as we are seemingly ready to take off into typhoon linda

turns out we are waiting until the murderous lighting and zero visibility passes and we get a few minutes to find the hole in the clouds and make a run for it (run ?)

90 minutes later, we reach miami unscathed except my gag reflex sitting next to a red haired tree hugger with her hemp clothing, shower sometime in the past week and fugly clothes that would make the deseret industries look like nordstrom (but i'm not judging) i'm sure she's a lovely soul and her mother and father are very proud.

i get my car, get to my hotel and head for the beach cause the sun just barely went down and i'm not getting any younger, just better looking.

take a few 'wish you were here' photos to blackberry back home and go see what all this south beach hoopla is all about. i found out the next day.

the conference was precious but ended early. like a good soldier i come back to my room and return emails and do my 'homework' assignment re: collegiate spamming, strategic planning, something like that, then figure i'll hit the beach to read a book and get some color.

i walk up to the beach and like the first girl i see . . . . . are those what i think they are flappin in the breeze? why yes, i think they are.

must be a fluke, i said . . . probably some european tourist who didn't know or didn't care about public decency laws in these here parts. but then i see another (more) and another, and several more.

quick thinking took over and i ripped off my shirt also . . . to fit in, you know? it works . . no one suspects a thing.

it seemed odd that there were no signs, no evidence that this beach (miles in each direction) was top optional

i sat in the sun, read my book and enjoyed the scenery . . . . (of the ocean, duh)

remember that show 'terminal' with tom hanks?

so i had a business trip planned to miami beach for a telecom conference and then to visit a few customers in the area.

figured this would be a good one to bring along my spouse or significant other (same person) . . . see the plan is, i go to work during the day while she sits on the beach or at the pool, then we meet up at night for dinner and dancing (square dancin y'all) .. . . (grab your partner doce do . . )

so we gets ourselves to the airport at 7:00 for an 8:00 flight . . . by the time we get to the gate (had to stop for burger king breakfast sandwidch), we are the last two on the plane.

instead of shutting the door and pushing back we wait, oddly for another 20 minutes. finally the captain ( i like to think his name is jack; jack sparrow) gets on the intercom to tell us that a windshield heat sensor is bad and they will try to find one here at the airport and we'll all be on our way. turns out, the part was not at the airport but instead in houston on continental's main tool box -o- love. so instead of an 8:00am departure, its noon.

noon comes and goes with the word of a successful installation of said windshield heat sensor but there is another problem . . . someone stole the exit sign from the airplane. no, you did hear correctly, someone stole the effin exit sign with the arrows that points passengers to the big door where people get on and get off the aircraft.

the other passengers and i figure, let's get a permanent marker and a barf bag, write 'exit' on it and duct tape it where it belongs and get out of effington. apparently, the faa does not work like that, so another airline is going to fly one in. so the 8:00am went to noon and the noon went to 4:00pm . . . now they'll give us food vouchers and put us up in a hotel in houston when we arrive there.

off to dick clark's diner with the hip music, the aging pop culture oozing from the muraled walls and a nice american indian waiter . . .let's call him ricky

back to our gate dutifully at 4:00 along with the 180 other passengers we've sort have made friends with, only to find out that the wrong exit sign was flown in. . . . . yes, the wrong exit sign (they should really standardize to just one).

now the 8:00am is not to leave until midnight and most passengers just come unglued.

we'd had enough, so we got our bags pulled off the airplane, got some food vouchers, a refund on her ticket and 12 hours after arriving, we left the airport, same city, same view.

you hear about these airline horror stories . . .but you always hear them from others and keep saying 'that sucks'

take it from this one . . . . .it sucks.

i'm always a little sad when . . .

it's amazing to me how through the long winters here you look so forward to summer. then it gets here, and gets busy, and soon enough, the summer is slipping away.

fall is a time that is both scenic and sad. the mountains light up with fall colors, the air temp cools off to a place where you can be outside in the middle of the day without heat stroke and you feel like everything is going to be ok . . . .but then, you realize, summer is over and winter is next.

school is back in session which means homework, herding kids off to bed and open you damn wallet because everyone needs something, be it clothes, books, tuition, more clothes.

every year about this time its the same: "what do I need to do that I enjoy but cannot do in the winter?" is that because i don't live each day like it might be my last? yeah, probably, or its just the pessimistic realization that in two months i'll be shoveling snow and be bitter about the fact that my summer is gone and I never did _____(fill in the blank).

so, get yourself outdoors and do those blank things so there are no regrets later.