First let me say to my fellow loyal readers, all 3 of you, I apologize for being a bit behind as of late with my postings. I have been busy with work and with preparing for my first race of the season, the Desert Classic in Phoenix. Coincidentally, I am writing this from Arizona, after spending the better part of the day, getting here and figuring out how to put my bike back together.
So, its this trip, at least the start of it, which has prompted me to write today's blog. Now, let me say, I am not the best flier in the world. I don't particularly enjoy flying, and to point it out, last year, at this time, I did 2 races way out of town, Austin, TX and Lake Charles, LA. I drove to both. But, when I qualified for Du Short Course Worlds last year, I was out of excuses. I did look at Google maps to discover the only alternative to flying to Europe was to drive to New York, run into the Atlantic, and then swim to France. All 3400 miles. So, I opted to fly. And, I discovered, that international travel was not all that bad. My bike was on the plane, with no extra charge, I got a meal, a couple of meals, choices of films, and this is all in coach. So, I figured a 3 hour flight to Phoenix would be a breeze, right? Well...
Let me say, to those who are not athletes reading this, we multi-sporters tend to be type A's and I am no exception. My patience level, is normally, zero, and I am miserable most of the time, so, at 5 am, in the frigid cold at O'Hare airport, I have no filter. Upon arriving at the check in, I was greated by Miss Congeniality, who was definitely not happy with her current station in life, and was prepared to let us all know about it. And, with cutbacks in the airline industry, check in, involves, touch screens, not real people. Now, I am not adverse to technology, but, this is a joke. It was like getting my boarding pass from an ATM.
When I figured everything out, and got the pass, it was like a receipt you get from a store. Now, I am already loaded down with bags, trying to deal with Ms. Happy-pants who wants to charge me a small fortune to put my bike on the plane, and I am holding a filmsy piece of paper, which is all I have to get me to Phoenix. So, I folded this "pass" in my pocket and proceeded to deal with Medusa. First, she looked at my bike box as if dear Aunt Bessy was in it, and was being transported to her final resting place. Then, in a completely sarcastic tone, she asks, "Is that a bike box?" With no filter at 5am, I, an not a ray of sunshine. So, I responded in typical Petruzzelli fashion, "No, actually its a land to air missle launcher. I am doing some testing on it in the desert." Let's just say the conversation went down hill rapidly from there. I was lucky I got off with just paying the 80 bucks to throw my bike on the plane - one way of course.
So, I hit the Starbucks, and grab a muffin, b/c, like most of us, my metabolism is running on high, so, I need to eat. I grab an over-priced muffin, and put on my IPod and wait to board. Now, I am not going to mention the airline, but its not a big one. So, I am boarding, its been 2 hours, and I am still hungry. But, I am figuring, I'll get something lousy to eat on this flight, so, I can make it to Phoenix. Then, as I sat down, I was greeted by the over-head voice, stating, if you want to eat the "snack pack" of a bad bagel, and old fruit, its going to cost you 5 bucks. At this point, all I could think was, "Are you F'ing kidding me?" On top of the lack of food, the one flight attendant didn't even give in-flight, delusion of safety, instructions, which according to one of my readers, is an FAA regulation. Now, I could go on about that bs, safety talk, but we all know that in case of a fire or a water landinf, the best thing to do, is put your head between your legs and kiss your rear end good bye.
So, we take off, and I realize that this flight is full of 2 types of people I don't like -. Cubs fans headed to Mesa for Spring Training, and Golfers. I don't know which one is worse, but I hate them equally. The Cubs fans were already talking about the World Series, and how this is the year, and blah, blah, and that, was truly annoying. As a die-hard Sox fan, and a Chicago native, a few things are certain, death, taxes, a Daley in office, and the Cubs inevitable choke at the crucial moment.
On the other side, are the mopes talking about all the golfing they can't wait to play when they hit the tarmac. These guys were blowing so much smoke up each other's rears about how great they all are, and the new clubs, and thier improved swing, and, "Wait till you see my new putter, if you know what I mean" jokes, that I thought my ears were bleeding. If these goofs are so great, why aren't they on the PGA Tour? Oh, yeah, I know, b/c they are LYING. I have never met a bigger bunch of over-exaggerators than golfers. I don't know what it is, but they put on those goofy pants, and automatically, they act is if they are one step away from getting on Tour. Its pathetic and sad, and I don't think I was playing my movie nearly loud enough to drown them out.
Thankfully, we landed, and getting a rental car, while, a bit of an ordeal, wasn't the worst. But its now 9:15 Mountain time and I'm still hungry and in a bad mood. I'm not sure this is the way I hoped to start this trip. But, if any of you were ever considering traveling with me, perhaps now is the time to re-evaluate.
The 26 hour drive here, still sounds better to me.
