The Long Way, Part 1

There is no easy way from Burbank to Chicago. You would think that of all airports people might want to get to, Chicago might rank fairly high on the list. But no. You cannot fly directly from Burbank to Chicago.

So I bought tickets on American to get us to Chicago and thence to Traverse City. It did not occur to me until we were in the air that American's hub is Dallas.

AKA Dallas-Fort Worth.

AKA The Eighth Circle Of Hell.

We flew to DFW, the Eighth Circle of Hell. I don't remember much of what I did during this leg.

We get to the departure lounge for Chicago and discover the standing capacity had way, way exceeded fire marshal acceptable limits. What had happened was: problems developed on the plane they did have ready to go to Chicago, so they had to substitute another plane. A smaller plane.

By eighty seats.

They put us on standby. I say, I don't think so. The lady at the counter tells me to be patient.

Negotiations begin. The first offer is a ticket on a later flight and a $300 voucher for any American flight. There are few takers.

$400.

The departure time comes and goes.

$500. They get a lot of takers for the $500 voucher.

I get called up to the counter. The woman hands me a ticket. "What about my husband?"

Just give them a second, okay?

I get on the plane. My seat is in the very last row.

An announcement comes over the loudspeaker: would anyone currently on the plane like to give up their seats for a $600 voucher and a first-class seat on the next flight?

I wait and wait and wait. Darin does not appear on the plane. I am wondering if I should take the voucher.

Darin finally walks on. His seat is at the front of the plane. We meet midway down the aisle and discuss how to deal with this. I go back to my row and ask my compatriots if either of them would like to sit in row 10, rather than row 35. One of them takes it and Darin walks back.

The offer goes to $700.

Finally they get enough takers, they pack the last remaining travelers in the overhead compartments, and we taxi out onto the endless tarmac of DFW, the Eighth Circle of Hell.

The pilot announces that Chicago has shut down due to snow. It's going to be a while before we take off.

The flight attendant sitting near us turns into a Transformer Chatty Cathy doll. She does not shut up during the entire time we will wait on the runway.

I pull out my legal pad and start outlining the second half of Act II of my thesis screenplay.

Chicago has opened one incoming and one outgoing runway, but they have to take care of all the planes that have been circling.

The flight attendants serve us lunch.

3:30 -- the time of the second flight to Chicago -- comes and goes. We have now been sitting there on the plane for two hours. I say, "We could have taken that $300 voucher."

Darin shrugs. "Who knew?"

Chatty Cathy explains her support for Proposition 209 in explicit, excruciating detail.

The time we were supposed to get on the flight for Traverse City comes and goes.

Finally we get the okay to go to Chicago. Darin tells me that we can rent a car at the airport and drive to Traverse City. Oh hey, there's an idea: drive 8 hours in really horrible weather, starting at about 6 at night. Sign me up.

I keep outlining.

We get to Chicago. Surprise! Mitch, Scott, and Lauren are waiting for us at the gate -- the flight to Traverse City was cancelled, because so many of the connecting flights have overshot the mark so badly. A new flight has been scheduled, and everything's okay, because they've arranged our seats for us. We're sitting across from Mitch on the little propeller plane.

We go to the waiting area for Traverse City. And...surprise! Darin and I are actually stand-by. In fact, says the desk attendant, it's likely we won't be on this flight.

Our seats were assured, we tell him.

You're not in the computer, he says. I'm sorry.

I become a very unpleasant traveling companion at this point.

Finally, as they begin boarding the plane, Darin and I get called up to the desk. He has two seats for us.

Right across from Mitch. What a coincidence.

Probably the only reason we made it on the plane was that there were so many kids on the plane, which made it lighter. The lighter the better during snowy weather, I guess.

We made it to Traverse City and had to get to Henry and Ilse's house, where the rabbi was waiting for stories and memories in order to write the eulogy for the next day.

There was lots of hugging and lots of food. The rabbi didn't look old enough to be a rabbi.

After a while I asked Darin if we could go to the hotel. I was tired. At least there was no more flying.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

I sat on a plane for hours and avoided killing anyone. I consider this exercise enough.