Living in the Airport
Had an interesting new life experience a couple of days ago. I impersonated Tom Hanks for a day.
Well, not really, but I feel more connected to his character in The Terminal. The one where he's been deposed while flying the America and isn't allowed the leave the airport because he's in some sort of legal limbo and can't go see the Blues musician he likes. As you've probably guessed I was not, nor have I even been the ruler of a foreign country. No, nothing so dramatic and excited. My connection is that I have now spent the night in an airport terminal. Specifically, the disruption zone known as Chicago O'Hare. After getting stuck there for myriad delays every time I traveled through that airport I quit it like a bad habit. However, like many lessons, I have to relearn them again though painful experience. The culprit for my circumstances? Badger pride and Air Traffic Control. Two utterly uncontrollable forces. Badger pride meaning half of Madison decided to fly to LA for the rose bowl game to support the UW-Madison Bucky Badgers two days before New Years, contending with me for the normally wide open flights to Chicago. The second, the new code word for weather conditions that we're not responsible for so go screw off.
On the bright side, things could have been worse. I could have been the guy trying to get to his brothers wedding the next day and not being able to get a flight for the next five days. Or I could be the guy who was missing a funeral. Nope, I was the guy who decided to live it up at an airport bar. That part worked. Met three people on their way to the Big Easy for NYE. Two local residents getting back from Italy and another one from Wisconsin meeting her girlfriends there for NYE on Bourbon Street. As my occasionally prophetic roommate once said: "Being a responsible adult is getting in the way of my drinking." And so it way for me that night. What better epic story would there be than meeting people at an airport bar and partying on Bourbon St on New Years Eve? I'm not sure but responsibility called. But hey responsibility had its own story. I can now check sleeping the night in an airport terminal of the bucket list (just not the other check for NYE on Bourbon St).
Well, not really, but I feel more connected to his character in The Terminal. The one where he's been deposed while flying the America and isn't allowed the leave the airport because he's in some sort of legal limbo and can't go see the Blues musician he likes. As you've probably guessed I was not, nor have I even been the ruler of a foreign country. No, nothing so dramatic and excited. My connection is that I have now spent the night in an airport terminal. Specifically, the disruption zone known as Chicago O'Hare. After getting stuck there for myriad delays every time I traveled through that airport I quit it like a bad habit. However, like many lessons, I have to relearn them again though painful experience. The culprit for my circumstances? Badger pride and Air Traffic Control. Two utterly uncontrollable forces. Badger pride meaning half of Madison decided to fly to LA for the rose bowl game to support the UW-Madison Bucky Badgers two days before New Years, contending with me for the normally wide open flights to Chicago. The second, the new code word for weather conditions that we're not responsible for so go screw off.
On the bright side, things could have been worse. I could have been the guy trying to get to his brothers wedding the next day and not being able to get a flight for the next five days. Or I could be the guy who was missing a funeral. Nope, I was the guy who decided to live it up at an airport bar. That part worked. Met three people on their way to the Big Easy for NYE. Two local residents getting back from Italy and another one from Wisconsin meeting her girlfriends there for NYE on Bourbon Street. As my occasionally prophetic roommate once said: "Being a responsible adult is getting in the way of my drinking." And so it way for me that night. What better epic story would there be than meeting people at an airport bar and partying on Bourbon St on New Years Eve? I'm not sure but responsibility called. But hey responsibility had its own story. I can now check sleeping the night in an airport terminal of the bucket list (just not the other check for NYE on Bourbon St).