J.P.

Departure.

We are sitting in front of the Paradise Pier Hotel at the Disneyland Resort awaiting our bus to LAX. We will be riding in air-conditioned comfort on a Disneyland Express motorcoach. We have plenty of time until our 17:15 PDT flight to Chicago. I like this relaxed pace.

Tomorrow Earl and I will be driving from Chicago to our home in Central New York to get things ready for the move at the end of the month. Normally I would be bummed about leaving an awesome place like Disney, especially after a very enjoyable vacation like this one, but I’m excited about the adventure that lies ahead less than two weeks away.

I feel recharged. I feel supercharged. I’m ready for the next adventure.

49. 

A quick thought before bed. I turned 49 today and my life couldn’t be better. Onward and upward. 

The Flight Attendant. 

The flight attendant stands at the front of the airplane, centered in the aisle in front of the first row and stares down the aisle toward the back of the airplane. I have no idea what she is looking at. Her hands are behind her back, though she doesn’t seem relaxed. Her posture is slightly aggressive. I’m curious as to why she chooses this pose, this stance and this body language. It doesn’t make sense to me. Flight attendants should be friendly, warm and inviting until provoked. Once provoked then all bets are off, but there is absolutely nothing happening on this flight right now to warrant such a stance.

I can’t help but wonder why she seems cranky. Is she not enjoying her job? Has another flight attendant said something catty in the galley? Did someone not flush? Are we out of Coke Zero? Is someone being particularly particular in first class? Have we offended her in some way?

Then I started to wonder if she was late for an appointment. Perhaps she missed her kids. Her spouse. Her dog. Maybe she just felt more comfortable on the West Coast. Was her uniform too loose? Too tight?

We did leave Chicago three hours behind schedule but that was due to Mother Nature having some sort of repeated hissy fit. It wasn’t the fault of the airline. It wasn’t the fault of the airport. It was unsafe to fly until we flew and that’s the way air travel goes. Like it or leave it, if man was meant to fly 24/7 he wouldn’t be at risk of being ripped apart by updrafts or being struck by lightning when standing on the ground. He’d have feathers, not whiskers.

The flight attendant in question stood there for a solid 10 minutes in this stance, nearly unmoving until someone wanted to use the lavatory. Had she a tall hat she could have guarded Buckingham Palace, but that was not meant to be. She was standing on an Airbus and did not look like she was having a good time. I smiled. She did not smile back.

That is unfortunate because flying is awesome. Even when the lav stinks and the kids are screaming and a woman is complaining about the temperature of the cabin and the flight is behind schedule and ground is obscured from view. Flying is awesome and the feat deserves the respect one would expect when you’re several miles away from the planet under man made power.

Enjoy your flight. Always.

Inspiration. 


I’m sitting on Virgin America flight 231 from Chicago/O’Hare to Los Angeles. Seated in 6D, Earl is across the aisle to my left in 6C, Chris and Jamie are in 6E and 6F. Jamie always sits next to the window. We are on an Airbus 320. Like all Virgin aircraft, it’s appointed in a trendy fashion with purple lighting, a boutiquy color scheme and decent electronic gadgetry in the seatback in front of me. I have already ordered my food. Once the turbulence settles down it’ll be delivered.

Departure was delayed nearly three hours due to thunderstorms passing through the Chicago area. One of the many things I’m excited about when it comes to moving to Chicago is the weather. The thunderstorms have a little more zing than what we have in our current home. I miss the days of storms with zing like we had growing up near Lake Ontario. Chicago will fit the bill nicely.

Since we are on a trendy airline going to a trendy location, I have been people watching like crazy. At the terminal Earl was seated next to someone who must have been famous in some way but we had no idea who he was. People were asking to have their photos taken with him, shaking his hand, etc. He wore sunglasses some of the time. We didn’t interact with him except when he walked away and forgot his water bottle. Earl followed and returned it to him. He was thankful. It’s the little things that make the world nicer.

In 5C is a young bearded fellow who opened his MacBook and started typing in Microsoft Word (boo) as soon as we got to 10,000 feet. A casual glance at his screen (because I’m rude like that) shows that he’s typing a script of some sort. My eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be but he’s writing a sitcom script described with the tone of “How I Met Your Mother”. There’s other stuff on there but I won’t share it here because I’m not overly rude, just a little rude. The title of the episode or potential sitcom (not sure of the scope of this little project he’s composing ferociously) is clever. I’d be intrigued. I could see his name and I looked him up on IMDB, he’s written a few things for television before and received appropriate credit.

The thing that I really enjoy about this guy is that he has a pad of paper and a MacBook and he had it set up so he could start typing immediately. He opened it up to a blank page in Word and just let his creativity flow. That’s kind of awesome. I find that inspiring.

I often get caught up in the minutiae of how I want to record my thoughts and then I end up losing the creative flow before actually doing anything about it. My OCD of having things “perfect” on my iPad or MacBook screen sometimes distracts me enough that my little ADHD tendencies kick in. I need to find a way to reel this in. A woman I used to work for offered my Adderall but I don’t want to resort to drugs for this sort of thing. I’d rather just tweak my willpower so that I’m able to do what I need to do.

See, now I’m typing my blog entry and I’m being distracted by a screaming kid somewhere in the back of the airplane. Oh look, there’s a dog on the floor three rows in front of me. 

I think I’ll go surf the Internet a bit.

Socially Awkward.

From the TCM website

One of my favorite “classic” movies is “Dear Heart”, a romantic comedy from 1964. Filmed in black and white, “Dear Heart” stars Geraldine Page and Glenn Ford as a couple that flirts with each other and ends up together by the time the credits roll. When I was younger I enjoyed this movie because it was the one time that you would see both Mrs. Kravitzes (from “Bewitched”), Alice Pearce and Sandra Gould, share a couple of scenes together, along with a couple of staples from the “Bewitched” series, as well as that old staple Mary Wickes.

As I watched the movie on many occasions over the years, I couldn’t help but notice that the lead character, Miss Evie Jackson played by Geraldine Page, had a charming social awkwardness about herself. She had hotel bellman announce her name of the PA system, she got to know her waiters and waitresses on a first name basis, she complimented strangers on their beards (a rarity in the 1960s), she was friendly with everyone. She was outgoing in a sort of awkward way. I totally identify with that and while I don’t see myself in a female role in anyway (I love my junk and the hormones that come with it), I can awkward like that in social situations. In the past I’ve worried about this sort of thing to the point that I’ve sent messages in my swinging days that said things like, “we’re we suppose to have sex?” but just shy of age 49 I don’t really care if I’m awkward or not anymore.

Earl and I just had dinner at a local Chicago restaurant near O’Hare Airport (let’s say it rhymes with Jiobarno’s) and I chatted up the waitress a little bit. Her name was JoAnn. She was missing a tooth. She seemed flustered, hurried and over it all, but after a few moments of idle chatter she calmed down and we ended up having a pleasant time that was originally off to a rocky start (it took a long while for any of the service staff to discover us). I believe that once I worked up the gumption to engage in some idle chatter (fueled by 48 ounces of 312 Green Line IPA) and JoAnn relaxed a bit, everything worked out in the end.

There’s nothing wrong with complimenting a man on his beard or asking a woman how her evening is or exchanging chit chat with a stranger as you climb to your floor together. Sure, as a middle-aged “Dad” type I might creep into the realm of creepy for some, but pay attention to me and you’ll discover that I’m not some creep. Listen to my words and you’ll discover that we can all relax.

I think we need a little more social awkwardness in the world today so that we can break the ice and find common ground together In Real Life. Get off the phone, chat up a stranger and share a smile.

You could brighten someone’s day.

Excitement.

Earl and I are in Chicago for a few days before heading off for vacation mid-week. We didn’t know where we would be right now so we booked our flights out of O’Hare. This is my last trip to the Windy City before our house closing at the beginning of August. 

As we were sitting on the Kennedy Expressway waiting for traffic to sort itself out I couldn’t help but reflect on the excitement I feel when we come into Chicago. A long buried dream of living in a big city is coming true at age 49. I still find it hard to believe. 

I’m excited about the new challenges that come with the life semi-reboot. I’ll be learning new terrain for my home turf as a pilot. I’ll sit in traffic if I’m not riding the train. We will be living in a different time zone. There’s much more available to us 24 hours a day. 

So much to explore. So much to enjoy. So much excitement. 

Fixit.

Preparations for the move at the beginning of next month continue around our lovely home. Painting is in progress. Rooms are being emptied and rearranged in a decorative manner. This is to entice those that pass through our house to actually buy our house. Earl has told me that I’m not gay enough to decorate these rooms. He’s handling it.

The washer and dryer, which have been stacked in the laundry room for the past six years, had to be moved to make way for the painters and the guy that replaced the tile floor. The end result was lovely, but when we moved the washing machine back into place and ran a load of clothes (I AM gay enough to require at least one outfit a day), we ended up with water on the new tile floor. The water was coming from underneath the washing machine. The last time this happened we were told that these new washers aren’t designed to have parts replaced and that we should buy a new washing machine, which we did. Earl and I agreed that we were not spending $1000 on a new washing machine for a house that we would be vacating in a month. Worse yet, we’d also have to buy a new dryer because of course GE can’t be making the same washing machine six years later, and the dimensions of the new washers are slightly different so we wouldn’t have a place to stack the existing dryer.

So we disassembled the washing machine to find out where the water was coming from. It turns out that a valve right near the top of the cabinet had cracked during the move. A quick look online revealed that the replacement part was $75. One screw held it in place. The next part arrived, I installed it and voila, no leaks. From the valve.

The hoses started leaking after being jostled around with each move of the washing machine. One of the inspection points of our new condo was that the washing machine hoses needed to be replaced with steel braided hoses, so I told Earl that we were going to be proactive and do the same for the house. A quick trip to Lowe’s, a little bit of haggling with our budget department about why we should get steel braided hoses versus rubber hoses and voila, $25 later, new hoses and no leaks from the washing machine.

It sure beats spending $2000 for a new washer/dryer stack.

Moral of the story, if someone tells you it’s easier to buy a new washing machine don’t believe them. Take the time to see what’s wrong and try to fix it yourself. Worse case scenario is that you can’t put the washing machine back together and you have to buy a new one anyway.

You’ll love the sense of accomplishment when you fix it yourself.

Technical Difficulties.

I was all set to write a witty blog entry about our latest adventures with washing machines when I discovered that something somewhere has changed with my WordPress configuration. I can no longer write images to the blog. This makes me sad.

I’m thinking something has changed on the hosted server so I have opened a trouble ticket. Wish me luck.