Paris Trip Part I - The FAA REALLY Hates Me

It took me 60 hours to land in Paris. Sixty hours in which I came to the conclusion that the FAA personally hates me. I also concluded that I will never fly through Newark Airport again. Next time I'll pay extra for a plane ticket through an airport in which all hell does not break lose when it rains.

At 11:30 Saturday morning I discovered that Continental cancelled my flights again. I called the 800 number and learned that the airline rescheduled me for Monday's flight. Since this was unacceptable, I asked to be transferred to the International division. A lovely woman by the name of Shondra arranged to have me fly through Detroit via Southwest and catch a connection to Newark at 6:30pm. I agreed to the arrangement as it was the only way to get to Newark that day. I called 5 minutes too late to get put on the last direct flight from Pittsburgh to Newark, and it is overbooked. She suggests I put myself on the standby list anyway.

And my troubles began...

1. The last direct flight from Pittsburgh to Newark experiences a technical problem and cannot leave. Since I am on standby and the flight is overbooked, I take the Pittsburgh to Detroit flight.
2. A Southwest gate agent pulls my original Continental Pittsburgh to Newark ticket. I protest, as I was told at the ticketing counter I needed to show that ticket in Detroit to get a boarding pass for the flight from Detroit to Newark. Continental agents in Newark are forced to hunt down a Southwest agent to print a FIM (Flight Interruption Manifest) so I can get on the plane to Newark.
3. The flight from Newark, originally scheduled to leave at 5:25pm, then delayed until 6:30pm is delayed until 7:30pm. At 7:30pm, the flight is delayed for another hour. I become upset and am comforted by a total stranger and the pilot of the plane. We do not take off until 8:45 pm. I ask a ticket agent while boarding if it is possible to hold the plane. She says that they will know I am coming.
4. Upon reaching Gate 111, at roughly 10:10pm the pilot repeatedly attempts to radio the Agents at Gate 74 to hold closing the gate so I can make the flight. The agents do not respond. I run almost ½ a mile through the airport to attempt to catch the plane. When I am told by one agent I must speak to an agent at the counter and not to block the closed door. The plane is still attached to the gate. The counter agent attempts to ignore me. When it becomes apparent that I am not planning on going away, she radios the agent at the end of the gateway with the statement "Were not taking any more people on this flight" and receives an affirmative. She rudely instructs me to go talk to Customer Service and will not speak to me after that.
5. I stand in line for almost four hours to see a CSR to get my new flight information. While in line I meet a couple named Clark and Rosalind, from Austin, Texas. After four hours I take the International 800 number and attempt to call for my new flight schedule. The automated system informs me, at various times, that it will take 15, 110, 61 and 50 minutes to speak to a CSR. We are also told that are baggage will remain checked and be put on our new flight.
6. I meet up with Clark and Rosalind again around 3am. They are still trying to find a hotel room for the night. I learn that among the stranded International passengers (and there are many, many passengers) is a 17 year old German girl named Pia. She is traveling alone and does not have enough money for a hotel. Clark and Rosalind ask if I would be interested in sharing a room. I agree. Rooms at the airport Sheraton are located.
7. While waiting for the tram to take us to the hotel shuttles, I run into the pilot from the Detroit/Newark flight. He reiterates that the agents never responded to any of his attempts. When I tell him that I was not allowed on the plane because the flight was closed, he says (and I quote) "that is bullshit". He also suggests that I write a letter. I make it to the hotel and fall asleep at 4am.
8. Upon landing at Charles De Gaulle Monday morning (I took the 6:15pm flight Sunday) I attempt to claim my luggage. And discover that it is lost. Not just a little bit lost, as in coming on the next plane. Lost as in Continental has no idea where it is located.

Note: At this point I have been wearing the same clothing for 50 hours.

I fill out a claims form, hail a cab to the hotel and take a bath. I have no energy left and cry myself to sleep. Later, resigned to a week in Paris without my clothing, I purchase 2 pairs of underwear, a set of disposable razors, shaving cream, two shirts and a skirt.

The airline locates my luggage and delivers it to me at 8:30pm Monday evening.

Breakdown of charges in the 60 hour detour:

1. Hotel room for myself and an unaccompanied 17 year old girl: $162.00.
2. Cost to hold my hotel reservation in Paris for two nights: $141.92
3. Disposable razors: 6.42 Euro ($8.14).
4. Shaving cream: .99 Euro ($1.26).
5. Skirt: 15 Euros ($19.03).
6. 2 shirts: 14.80 Euro ($18.77).
7. 2 pairs underwear: 5.98 Euro ($7.59)

Grand total of detour: $358.71.

Part II coming soon...

Disaster

I should be getting out of a car right now. I should be standing in a line, waiting for TSA to check the bottoms of my shoes.

Instead I am at home. Both legs of my flight were cancelled due to Tropical Storm Beryl. I've been rescheduled on tomorrow's flights. Continental Airlines made no effort to place me on a different flight. The CSR tranferred me to the "international desk". Since I did not have 70 minutes to wait on the phone, I hung up.

I've moved my hotel reservation (that poor, poor clerk must have been ready to murder me) and now I sit, depressed and upset. I'm not confident that I am going anywhere right now, as the rain from the storm is supposed to hang around for several more days.

$1200.00 for a plane ticket, and this is what I get. No plane or trip.

Miscellanea

1. I actually spelled "miscellanea" correctly on the first attempt.
2. Need a new, all-in-one cooking gadget? Try the Thermomix! I may have found the gadget to aid me in getting over my laziness in the kitchen. That is if I can get past the amount of time it takes to learn how to use the thing.
   
3. These are not auspicious signs when one is about to commence international travel:
• Sudden and massive allergies. Bad enough to necessitate renewing my prescription of Singulair to manage the inevitable asthma attack and get my allergies under control.
  
• Thunderstorm warnings for the next 24 hours starting LATE Thursday afternoon.
• Tropical storm Beryl (I'm flying out of Newark Airport. Yes, I know the airport is a hole).
• An ongoing heat wave in Europe. Guess I'll have to take those "too tight" tank tops. (This is according to my mother. J has reassured me that my shirts are not too tight.)
  
• The floor tile we ordered for the bathroom is on a truck "somewhere". Home Depot is not sure which truck or where the tile is at this moment. UPDATE: The tile made it, but not before a very befuddled CSR cancelled one of the orders. J straightened it out in a subsequent phone call.
4. These are auspicious sign when one is about to commence international travel:
• My father's biopsy results were clear. Cancer limited to the prostate only. He will not have to have chemotherapy or radiation.
• A state judge has overturn North Carolina's law banning cohabitation.
• I found the card for the a hat shop, Manon Martin, we visited on our first trip. On the back was the name of a cafe that served us the best meal we had in Paris.
  
5. A public service reminder: When one asks for a quote for a ride to the airport over the internet and receives an insanely inexpensive quote, one should confirm the amount BEFORE giving a credit card number.
   

Bang Head HERE

The Health section of the New York Times online is down right now, so my rant on the inaccurate information in an essay debating the FDA's wisdom in approving Gardasil for females between the ages of 9 and 26 is incomplete.

The summary version of the rant is this:

• Crucial information about the FDA's guidelines for administering the vaccine was left out of the essay, leading the reader to believe that FDA wants all 9 year old girls to be vaccinated.
• She seems to lack a basic understanding about the different strains of HPV and how Gardasil works.
  
• She has a cavalier attitude towards the 10,000 women each year who are diagnosed with cervical cancer.
• She has an equally cavalier attitude about the additional tests a woman with a positive screen must go through to determine whether cervical cancer is present. If I recall, she calls the additional testing a "little discomfort" or some such bullshit.
  
• After giving a nod to right-wing conservative religious groups about preaching celibacy, she goes on to state that the transmission of HPV can be prevented through the use of condoms. NOT TRUE. Protection against HPV (and Herpes) via condom usage is only effective when the condom COVERS THE INFECTED AREA. It is not the most common sexually transmitted disease because it is difficult to catch.

I have no more words (or bullet points) for this kind of stupidity.

Still Tired

Thank you, thank you, thank your for the kind messages and good thoughts of the past week. Dad's surgery was successful. The worse part was the 11 hours spent in the world's most uncomfortable chairs.

For those not familiar with UPMC Presby, it is a very large teaching hospital located in the Oakland section of Pittsburgh. The Family Surgical Waiting Room is staffed with several patient liaisons. Their primary responsibility is to track the status of patient's surgeries and keep the family informed. They escort family members to pre-op and recovery rooms, pass messages on and keep track of family members. They are very, very good at what they do and made a difficult day a little bit easier to bear.

If I ever win the lottery I'm endowing UPMC with a furniture budget so the hospital can purchase real couches and chairs.

An interesting article from NPR on the ritual of the mikvah. From the perspective of an outsider, I always thought this was a lovely ritual that Jewish women are incredibly fortunate to have as a tradition of their faith and culture. I also like the fact that more progressive women are claiming a meaning that goes beyond the original intent.

Prayers

Dad's surgery is today at 1pm. He will be hospitalized for at least three days. Mom is staying with us.

Will update when I can.

Today I Heart Ned Lamont

Because you have to like a man with a sense of humor. Or a man with an audience who has a sense of humor. Two videos for your viewing pleasure.

Note the comments under first video. So original!
Unintentionally Creepy Ned Lamont Ad Remixed

And even more original comments under video 2!
Ned Lamont Has a Messy Desk

Dissection of a Pig Roast

My visits home are always accompanied by mixed feelings. I was not happy because it was not the type of place that made me happy. Junior and High School were hell, a problem compounded by the fact that I was forced to switch from a public to a Catholic school in grade 7. The new school was small (by grade 12 the graduating class was 39) and intensely clique-ish. I did not have much athletic ability, cried too easily and was a little to willing to question the authority of the teachers and the actions of my classmates. I was an easy target for the other students to alternately taunt and ignore.

My dislike of enforced participation in any activity can be traced back to the “Secret Santa” ritual from junior and high school. Every year a “majority rule” voted to keep the tradition alive, and to voluntarily opt out was not permitted. Every year my name would be drawn, traded among classmates and ultimately ignored. I can only recall one year in which I actually received gifts, because one of the few classmates I had as a friend made a point of trading for my name so I would not feel excluded.

Through seven years and two degrees, as visits to my hometown became less frequent and less fraught with angst, I would talk to graduates from the grades behind me. Several said that what got them through and made them feel ok about themselves was my determination to be an individual in the face of so much teasing.

I spent three years at my former high school as a librarian and teacher. In between shelving books and showing middle school students the basics of research, I did guest appearances in Senior AP English classes to talk about narration via the X-Files, Frankenstein and Alice in Wonderland. I watched as the school transitioned from an outdated two story + basement to a Grade K – 12 facility with separate gym, cafeteria and auditorium, ample classroom space, two libraries and separate wings for each stage (elementary, middle, high) of learning.

I still see those kids, "my kids". They call me by my first name and greet me with hugs. The youngest have finished their first year of college. The oldest are finishing graduate school, marrying and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of their life.

My fifteenth high school reunion is in August. I am not attending. I see all the people I want to see from my tiny class of 39 and my former students. On Saturday, the father of one of my oldest and dearest friends looked around at the little group of us assembled for pre-party preparations. "This is my family", he said with a smile. "This is my extended family."

Quick Notes

I'm heading out of town for the weekend, so I will be missing most of the All Star pre-game festivities. J and I are heading to DuBois (home of hot dogs stuffed with peanut butter) for a pig roast. If you happen to be in the neighborhood, stop by! You can get directions from Palumbo's Meat Market.

Have a good weekend, everyone.

Now I Must Shower

Because Ray Shero signed the psychopathic forward Jarkko Ruutu today.

• Ruutu of the illegal hits?
• Ruutu, who damn near gave Jager a concussion at this year's Olympics?
• Ruutu, who spent as much time in the penalty box as he did on the ice last year?
• Ruutu, who seems to get far too much enjoyment out of hurting opposing players?
• Ruutu, who picks fights with his own teammates during practice?
• Ruutu, who it is reported is not even very good at being a thug?

Maybe my instincts about the guy will be wrong. Maybe he really is the type to help elderly ladies across the street and visit children's cancer wards in his spare time. Maybe he is what the team needs to keep Crosby from getting as beat up as he did last year.

I feel ill.

Update 5 July 2006

1.6 Million a year? Is Shero on crack? He could have resigned Ryan VandenBussche and gotten the same performance for less money.

Schadenfreude...

...is listening to a man on a high-speed bike gunning his motor while waiting in tunnel at a red light. Is watching said biker speed up and weave through traffic (dangerous and stupid) so he can make it to the next red light five seconds faster than the other motor vehicles. It is watching his biking companion, sans any protective gear, including helmet (no longer required in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania) also dangerously cut off multiple cars to catch up to his buddy.

And it is watching city police in an unmarked car (one of the vehicles biker 2 cut off) turn on their lights and pull both bikers over.

Schadenfreude can be a beautiful thing.

In other news, last night J and I saw the Violent Femmes play for $1.00. It was well worth the price of admission. We got a giggle out of the shock some of the teenagers, dressed in their punk/goth gear, felt when they discovered that the Violent Femmes are a group of middle-aged men. This is akin to the laugh I got several years ago during my incarnation as a teacher when one of my middle school students, in all seriousness, asked me about “that new band” Pearl Jam.

Lisa's recent post on parents who expect the public to worship at the feet of their badly behaving children, struck a sympathetic chord. One of the reasons I hesitate to start a family is that I might act exactly as described in the post. And I really do not want to be that kind of parent. I want to be the kind of parent with enough nerve to hold up a busy check-out line until my badly behaving child apologizes to the clerk because she was rude.*

In addition, I am the infamously stubborn black sheep in-law who refuses to allow her husband's parents to cow her into submitting to a life that includes non-stop in-law interference and family vacations. I've seen far too much interference on the part of a "doting" grandfather to convince me that bringing another child into the family will set me up for many, many years of battles I am not totally prepared to fight.

We have finally gotten to the point where J's extended family no longer overtly pressures us to have children. It is more subtle now, and includes Mother's Day and Father's Day gifts so we "don't feel left out". J's brother, a priest, has been giving me Mother's Day gifts from year one because "I live with his brother and that is work enough" as a joke, and I do find it funny. I don't find it neccessary for anyone else to give me a gift. We suspect they think we are childless by physical circumstances instead of conscious choice. I'm ok with letting them think that, as it takes the overt pressure off both of us.

*True story. The mother would not accept her change back until her daughter apologized to the clerk. I was amazed.