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« March 2008 | Main | May 2008 »
Wednesday, April 23, 2008 - 21:54:00
Buy Me Some Peanuts And Crackerjack
The fam, along with a goodly portion of our church membership, caught an Arkansas Travelers minor-league baseball game at the super-fancy new ballpark in North Little Rock the other night, and had a great time. I think my favorite part was watching my mom explain the basics of the game to my daughter, who was fascinated.
I didn't care if we ever got back, but Alex got really tired around the 7th-inning stretch, so we headed home early. Travs won, in their first-ever game against Arkansas' other minor-league team, the Northwest Arkansas Naturals. (OK, it was only with typing that out that I realized the cleverness of that team's name--not just a reference to Arkansas as "The Natural State," but also a nod to the Robert Redford film, "The Natural." Nice.)
Wednesday, April 09, 2008 - 21:32:22
The Good, The Bad, And The Acting Ugly
On the way home from a recent trip, there were some flight delays. It was the day after tornadoes ripped through central Arkansas, and the weather front had moved all the way through to the East Coast. The worst weather had yet to reach that far, but it was causing problems with flights getting in to some places (like Nashville--just ask poor Jamie about that), so when I got to the Continental terminal at the Newark airport, I was greeted with at least 10 lines of people whose flights had been canceled and were being re-routed on later flights. I lucked out--my direct flight to Little Rock was just late enough, and Little Rock was just enough west of the worst weather (flights into Memphis were being canceled), that my flight wasn't canceled. Of course, other delays with other flights were having a domino effect, so my flight home was delayed a couple times and moved to a different gate, but it still left within 30 minutes of its scheduled time. I considered myself fortunate.
As is usually the case when I'm making my way through the enormous, sprawling, sometimes dirty airports in major "hub" cities, I could not help thinking how very much I love Little Rock's Adams Field. Yes, it's tiny. That can be an inconvenience at times, like when you can't get a direct flight to a major destination, and sometimes the pickings are slim as far as flight availability, but that smallness is also kind of the point. It took me all of 10 minutes to arrive, check in, go through security, and get to my gate on the morning that I left. I love that. It's also a clean airport, with free wi-fi and plenty of electrical outlets for the public (I'm looking at you, Newark--I saw all the black holes where the outlets used to be). Seriously, airports of the world, let's get rid of "Boingo" paid wireless, OK? If Little Rock, Arkansas can do it, then you certainly can, too.
So, back to my flight--it was on a very small plane, just like the one I'd had on the trip out, so I had one of those seats that is, by virtue of being the only one, simultaneously window, middle, and aisle. I was seated at the front of the plane, just behind the cockpit. A cheerful young(er than me) man in a Houndstooth tee and some very blue running shoes sat across the aisle from me, and a woman I'll refrain from describing, for reasons which will soon become obvious, sat behind me. The flight was uneventful, the hostess pleasant, the turbulence minimal considering the weather. I had a great book to read, the plane was full of fellow Arkies, and I was feeling pleasantly nostalgic for home, despite only having been gone for two days. I'm sappy like that. And then we touched down in Little Rock.
First, something happened that I've never experienced in air travel before. We were parked out a good distance from the Continental terminal, because there was another plane occupying the spot (remember, this airport is tiny). I didn't think much of it, because, as I said: weather, domino effect, many delays and cancellations. I was still feeling lucky to have been able to get home that night. Then, through the cockpit door, I hear the plane's Captain (who may or may not have been John McEnroe) yelling out the window of the plane, and some mumbled responses from a grounds-crew person with a pronounced foreign accent. I couldn't understand anything the groundsman said, but here is the gist of the Captain's end of the conversation:
"What's going on?"
"How long?"
"Twenty MINUTES? Are you kidding me?"
"Can't you bring out a hard-stand?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Get me a manager I can talk to on this frequency!"
"Are you KIDDING ME?"
I have to admit, I was chuckling to myself. Because it was just funny to me, an airplane pilot communicating with the ground crew not on a radio, but by yelling out the window. I was smiling to myself, and thinking, "only in Arkansas." And it was only 20 minutes, and in the grand scheme of things, with the perspective of just having had a tornado ravage my hometown and surrounding areas, and knowing that my family was safe and that I'd soon be joining them, I just settled back in with my book. Not a huge thing. The captain was plainly upset, though, and announced the 20-minute delay over the plane's PA system, encouraging passengers to fill out a Continental "customer care card" and express our displeasure at not being able to get to the terminal when we landed. That kind of made me laugh inwardly, too, because honestly--on a day like this? I think the airline had bigger things to worry about. Again, just ask Jamie. 20 minutes? Well, it's not as good as right now, but it's no big deal.
Except to the woman behind me. First, she began just complaining out loud to no one in particular, saying intelligent things like, "Come ON--the weather hasn't even been bad here today." Nah, just tornadoes that flipped airplanes over a few hours earlier, followed by massive power failures and flash-flooding. You know, nothing major.
And then she got on her cell phone, and called some (presumably) loved one to advise them of the situation. Naturally, I only heard her end of it, but she was speaking loudly, apparently wanting the rest of us to hear her conversation. Try to imagine the intonation and nasal whine of Lovey Howell, without the class:
"Well, we're heeeere, but we're just sitting on the taaaarmac. For twenty miiiiinutes."
"This is reason number THREE to get OUT of Little Rock. I swear to Gaaaawd, I am sooooo OUT of here. I haaaate it."
"I don't know; typical Little Rock moronity. Everyone in Little Rock is a moooooron." (At this point I was biting my tongue so hard I drew blood, at the intense desire to inform this paragon of class and manners that if you're going to malign the intelligence of an entire community, including a good many of your cabin-mates, you might want to stick to using actual WORDS.)
The conversation went on for most of the not-quite-20 minutes we sat there waiting, and several things were discussed, but the overriding theme was other people, and how they are essentially wastes of skin. A couple of snippets I can't seem to cleanse from my brain:
"Oh, and when you saaaaaid it, did you just feeeeeel the biiiiiiile rising in your throat?"
"That probably makes me a bad mother, doesn't it? Well, I don't caaaaaare."
And then, excusing the person on the other end of the phone with "I don't guess you need to be entertaining meeeee while I waaaaait," she finally hung up, and began pontificating to the hostess and other passengers about the details of this particular flight, how she took it "aaaaall the tiiiiiime," and that the employees were "aaaaaaaall on a break," because it wasn't this much trouble getting in at 1:00AM, and besides, "they didn't even have any weather here today." That was the only time I broke my silence, since I'd sat up the entire night before and into that morning glued to KTHV's streaming storm coverage on my laptop in a faraway hotel room, worrying for the safety of the family I was unable to contact. I didn't say much, only that I considered tornadoes and flash-floods to officially qualify as "weather." She just sputtered a bit and answered, "Well, that wasn't todaaaaaay." Well, yeah, actually, it was, but I let it go. I could have spit some bile of my own by then, though.
About that time, we were able to taxi up and park near the terminal, and allowed to deplane. While the crew was bringing out the hard-stand so we could get out, my pleasant across-the-aisle flight-mate brought out his cell-phone, and called his wife. His voice was quiet, full, familiar and warm. His conversation went like this:
"Hey, there, Honey. We're here."
"Oh, there was a little delay, and I didn't want to wake you just to tell you I wasn't off the plane yet."
"No, no...don't do that. I'll be there in (checks watch) 20-30 minutes. You just go back to sleep. I just wanted you to know I was on my way."
"I love you."
If that is "typical Little Rock 'moronity'?" I'll take it. I'll take it every. Darn. Time. I only had a brief, small-talk-ish exchange with this sweetheart of a guy, and didn't get his name, but if you recognize these blue shoes, you might tell their wearer that he restored my faith in humanity, one 20 minutes upon a time.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008 - 09:38:40
Because, Apparently, Johnson & Johnson ALREADY Owns Me, Anyway
If you're plugged into the blogosphere, particularly the world of "mom-bloggers," you've heard more than enough about The Great Camp Baby To-Do of 2008. If you've missed the dustup, you can bring yourself up to speed here, and a little Googling will turn up plenty more fallout.What happened was, Johnson & Johnson and their PR firm, in an effort to "connect" with what is becoming an increasingly powerful demographic, MOMS WHO BLOG, decided to host a 3-day "getaway" for moms, culminating, naturally, in a field trip to J&J headquarters for a product expo. The hope is that the blogger attendants will return home and write (hopefully glowingly) on their blogs about the J&J products they saw, and how well they were treated by the giant corporation. They invited 50 "influential bloggers" on this junket, and shockingly enough, Yours Truly was one of those 50. I'm still trying to figure out quite how "influential" I am, but I registered for the trip based on a few key factors:
1. FREE. The trip is FREE. As in, all expenses paid, including airfaire, car service to and from the airport on both ends (though I excused them from sending a car for me here at home), great hotel accomodations, meals, a wine-tasting hosted by Ted Allen (fangirl squeeeee!), lots of pampering activities, a Wii-party and fine dining at The Frog and The Peach, etc. Yes, apparently, I can be bought--although I have to give props to our sponsors at J&J for making it clear right up front that: a.) We are not obligated in any way to write about the trip or the product expo, and b.) If we DO write about any of it, they ask that, in the interest of total transparency, we reveal that we were there on THEIR dime. I respect that.
2. The opportunity to visit with scads of my all-time favorite blogger-buddies from all over the continent! And these are just a few of the ones who I know will be there--I'm sure I "know" a heck of a lot more of the 50 attendees, if only online. If I had to guess, I'd say that MOST bloggers who accepted the invitation did so with this motivation high on their list of priorities. That was smart of J&J. I've heard lots of complaints that "the same group of bloggers gets invited to all these corporate-sponsored junkets," but this is the first time for me. It will be interesting to see if my participating in this activity gets me on some kind of PR "list" in the future. I do get PR pitches from time to time, but I'm certainly not inundated by them like some folks say they are.
3. TED ALLEN. 'Nuff said. I'm a dorky, dorky Top Chef/Queer Eye for the Straight Guy fangirl. I'm not ashamed. Much.
In preparation for this trip, in order to educate myself about exactly who was buying my attention, I did some research into the companies owned by Johnson & Johnson, and the products they make. I was ASTOUNDED at the sheer number and variety of things made by J&J or one of their subsidiaries which have directly impacted my and my family's lives. They're not just Band-Aids and Baby Powder. From psychiatric medications that have benefited my bipolar husband to the Interceed fabric that repaired my resectioned colon and protected me from adhesions during a lifesaving surgery in 2000, I've spent enough money with Johnson & Johnson that a plane trip and a few dinners are looking like a nice "Thank-You" note at this point! Check here to see how much influence Johnson & Johnson has in your life--you might be surprised!
I'll post more on my trip (I leave tomorrow) here, if my editor approves it, and also, with a group of other attendees, on a group blog here. Expect lots of pictures.
I'm looking forward not only to visiting and schmoozing, but also to doing my best at being a representative of wonderful folks like this amazing woman and others.
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