NEVER ORDER AN AUSSIE BURGER
8/23/00 Chicago O’Hara
Wednesday, 3:40 CT
“Boy am I sure glad you’re thin!” Kind of an awkward start to an awkward trip. This was what one of the two guys I was sandwiched between said as I sat down in my seat.
And DAMN, am I having an awkward start to this journal!
Anyhow, mom drove me down to CVG FOR MY FLIGHT, SCHEDULED AT TWO O’CLOCK. It ran a bit late, then they couldn’t operate the ramp-thingee and had to move it down a gate, then they couldn’t squeeze everyone’s 1.8 bags into the bins & under seats, then I was reamed by the attendant for not properly stowing my bag.. but now I couldn’t be happier! Here I sit in Chicago for the next three hours. The bright side is that my flight from Cincinnati was delayed. Otherwise, I’d be here for another hour. I have decided that Chicago is not my kind of town. Sorry Frank. Even this $4 bottle of Killian’s tastes like crap.
I’ve been too nervous to enjoy the trip thus far. I mean, traveling Lone Wolf is a good time and all, but this is a Big trip a Long WAY from home. Yes, the freedom of deciding where, when, and for how long is a wonderful experience, but as Dad said, “it’s nice to have someone to say ‘isn’t that a pretty sunset.’ to.” But I’ve been OK – I haven’t been all worked up or anything. Sure I’ve lost sleep (been up since 4 AM or so), felt less than excited, crapped my brains out, eaten like a bird all day … but nothing too bad.
Hmmmm. Two hours till my plane boards. Another beer, perhaps.
Honker’s Ale
Mmm. Goose Is. Honker’s Ale. Local. Bird related. Not bad.
Well, I must say. The beer may be over-priced, the view may be less than idyllic, the people may make me wish for apes to conquer human-kind, but the conversations, people-watching, and movers & shaker atmosphere is nice. Just overheard an old Air Force pilot talking shop w/one of the crew members grabbing dinner.
Damn, there is NOTHING to do. Well not nothing, but not much I’d be interested in. I suppose I could read, but then again I’m only 1 hour into a 22+ hour flight. Speaking of, I’m still not sure how to go about the jet-lag thing. My understanding at present is that I will touch-down in Sydney at around six AM. Now do I sleep during the LA to Syd leg, or do I attempt to remain conscious until Friday night in order to reset my circadian rhythm?
And how many hours away is Friday night? I honestly don’ know. Due to some as of yet incomprehensible temporal rift as I move west, I gain time from here to the neighborhood of Hawaii, but soon lose an entire day. Post! As Bill Bryson put it, for one entire day I will not exist! I will board a plane in LA today (Wed), and touch-down on a Friday, without ever “being” on Thursday. But why couldn’t it be Tuesday? I wouldn’t miss a Tuesday.
Oh! An hour and a half until I board. Time to spend that American currency while I can.
KC
I have just discovered that the bar I have left is the “Artist’s & Writer’s Bar”. I must have looked like an ass!
Gate C-19: Los Angeles – Sydney
Sydney. Over four years of anticipation. Only 30 minutes to boarding.
(and some 20 hours in the air)
Flight was delayed ½ hour. Dropped into another bar, met a guy going home to Columbus, OH. For a moment, everything felt alright. The fourth beer probably helped. I can’t wait to brush my teeth!
… in Sydney.