Saturday, January 23, 2016

About that trip home


Thursday's journey home began well:  lots of sleep, a nice farewell to the ocean, and the usual excellent hotel check-out service.

As soon as the cab left the hotel's property, the driver pushed a few buttons on his van's after-market CD player, and Kenny Rogers started singing about the coward of the county.  I didn't recognize the next song, but it was Kenny again.  As the cab entered the airport's property, Kenny began asking Ruby not to take her love to town.  In retrospect, I should have taken this as a sign to avoid Charlotte and stay at the hotel, but I didn't.

The flight to Charlotte went well, as did my passage through customs and immigration; Global Entry is the only way to go.

The short flight to Raleigh appeared to be going well.  The plane was full, the pilot was talking--and then a man walked onto the plane, the pilot stopped, and the man announced that they had canceled our flight, the only other flight to Raleigh that night, and all the flights to Raleigh on Friday.  Mind you, the weather in Charlotte was fine, the weather in Raleigh was fine, and the weather at all points between the two cities was fine.  As best I can tell, American just didn't want the plane stuck in Raleigh.

Off the plane we all trooped.

Thanks to Gina, while everyone else was waiting to see what American would do for them, I headed to Hertz, where a rental car was waiting.  Three hours of driving later, I arrived in Raleigh, home but much more tired than I had expected to be.

I've been snowbound since then.

I do not currently heart American.




4 comments:

Mark P said...

Mark, can you post some snow scenes. There's no Snow here in the UK where were back in the low teens temperature wise. Southern England infrequently get snow and almost never gets snowed in.

Mark said...

I'm about to crash, but tomorrow afternoon--I intend to sleep away the day--I will try to take a few happy snaps of the snow and ice around my house.

Dave Drale said...

Dear Mark,

Context is everything. There was an outlaw radio station at Quan Loi--I don't know who was running it, but they weren't part of the Armed Forces Vietnam Network and they had their own opinion of an appropriate playlist.

You can't fully appreciate Don't Take Your Love to Town until you've heard it on the back deck of a tank in War Zone C.

Glad you're home safely.

Dave

Mark said...

Fair points. I'm glad I didn't have to hear any songs that way. I'm sorry you did.

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