And So it Begins...My Journey to Oz

Sorry it has taken me this long to get a blog setup, but you will not be disappointed with these posts. The following is a selection of stories and thoughts dring my journey to Oz. All told, I took 4 flights, and 30 hours of flying and layovers to get from Indianapolis to Brisbane.

So, I survive the morning of travel around the house with my mom running off to different rooms to cry about her baby leaving and it is finally time to go. During the drive, I have to explain to my dad for the fifth time in two days that I am not going to try and grease the curbside check in person to take my oversize and overweight bag at the regular weight. in response, Larry decides that he is going to bring in "Just a couple bags in case you need them." Little did I realize that this meant he was going to bring in enough bags that I could have completely re-packed all of my luggage into. Needless to say, the check-in guy was laughing his ass off and cut me a break on my big bag and only charged me for overweight. Got that taken care of, got money exchanged and got through security with a minimal number of pictures and tears from my mother.

After clearing security, I sit down and start reading one of the books I bought for the flight. the book was titled, The End of America and written by Naomi Wolf. It is a pretty cool book. Aside from thinking about the fact that I am already sweating and I have only been in the airport for 15 minutes of the 30 HOURS that I am about to spend traveling, I look out and see a plane the size of the poster tube that I had packed pull up. I immediately think, "There is no way in HELL I am surviving the middle seat of that plane for 3 hours to Denver." Thankfully, it was bound for DC.

And then it happens, Sign #1 that this is going to be a long journey (I was waiting for something): I go to get my notepad out to write the notes for this blog to see that some how in the car ride and walking the zipper has separated from my bag and is now refusing to unzip. As I wrestle with the bag trying to get it to open like I used to wrestle with a bag of chips at lunch as a 10 year old, it finally gives way. Seriously, all that was missing was Kirsh calling me a baby Gorilla.

Immediate Sign this trip is going to be amazing: I board the flight and sit down next to a lady that has just been at DePauw University and was less than impressed with their student body.

Immediate Reversal of fortune: She comments about me reading a book by Naomi Wolf. Turns out Naomi Wolf is a very feminist writer. Mind you I am wearing a Cubs T-shirt, My Cubs hat, and basketball shorts (Listen, I knew I was going to be sweating, you gotta go with comfort), and now this broad is wondering about my support of the feminist movement. Cue more sweating.

After a 20 minute delay because the reverse thrust from the engine (Yes, the thing that helps stop the plane when you land) wasn't working correctly we take off for Denver. PS Shout out to United for getting that fixed.

Land in Denver and transfer planes. Turns out, three flights in a row from Denver to LA have been canceled for various mechanical failures. I immediately start praying and dancing to any god I have ever heard of. Remember I was a Religion minor and took classes in Eastern Religions, so that is a lot of praying and dancing (yes, and sweating). Everything falls into place and we take off in time and land fine. Of course, my typical warning of, "Just let me know if I overflow into your seat too much. These things aren't built for big kids." does not go over as well as I would have liked since the lady was supposed to be on Plane #1 that was canceled and has been stuck in the airport for 6 hours. PS John Denver was not full of shit, The Rocky Mountains are pretty cool.

LAX was everything it is cracked up to be...an absolute cluster fuck. I had to get on a bus and then tour an entire terminal just to find the correct security gate being guided by Ray Ray and LaQuanda. Aside from the Asian lady yelling at me to check out at a different register when all I wanted was a bottle of water, I got an education about Palm Springs from a guy, got some good people watching in, and overheard a conversation involving a guy who knows the choreographer for Dancing with the Stars.

Get on the plane to find out that this will be a 13 hour flight AND, despite the guarantee given to me by the gate agent, this is indeed a full flight. Also, the Air New Zealand staff are less than understanding about the need to stand in the back of the plane, with one Man Flight Attendant telling me that as long as the fasten seat belt sign was on, I couldn't stand in the back of the plane. It wasn't until after I sat down that I remembered that the "Fasten Seat Belt" light IS ALMOST ALWAYS ON as a reminder to fasten your belt when you're in your seat. Whatever.

So, I land in Auckland and am one flight away from my new home. I slept for 7 of the 13 hours and slept at least an hour on each of the "Short" flights, so I am doing pretty well on Jet Lag. As I am enjoying the New Zealand version of a Sausage, Egg, and Cheese Croi'sanwich and coffee from Burger King, a gentleman comes up to me wearing a hat that says, "God is Good, All the time" and compliments my Cubs T-shirt. Now, this is easily the fifth individual to make a comment about the shirt, so I shake it off. Turns out he is from 109th and Halstead in Chicago and is going to Sydney for 10 days with some family members and was pretty awesome to talk to for ten minutes.

Sign that something bad was about to happen: I am doing what every healthy bodied person should do once every 24 hours (except girls, because they always smell like roses), when I look down and see a puddle of water forming from the stall next to mine. "G'day to you too New Zealand!!"

Immediate Reversal: I emerge from that debacle to see a table of seven dudes slamming beer like it is bottled water at 7:45 am. within 10 minutes there were 15 empty bottles on the table and they each had full beers to go. I am not Rittgers, I can't make this shit up (Love you Los De). Although tempted, I resist getting a beer.

As I am watching this spectacle, I look up and watch th disaster called USA Rugby get their asses handed to them by Manu Manu the Slender's Kin Folk. To Borrow a line from Bill Simmons, "USA Rugby, Feel the Excitement"

As I make my way to the gate for my final flight, there is a 777 sitting there. "What in the Fuck Do we..." as I am thinking this, three different sports teams show up to the gate plus a group of Chinese Nationals (I can tell by their passports). As the high schoolers are throwing around a rugby ball (Which hit me...Twice), the Chinese nationals are shuffling around Cigarette cartons to fit them into their carry-ons. Don't worry RJR, even if half of America quits smoking, China has you covered. The flight goes fine and I arrive in Brisbane.

All told, me and my 2 checked bags and two carry on bags survived 30 hours of flying and layovers with minimal delays and only one quick chat with a Customs official in the Brisbane Airport.