Dear Kid,

By now I’m sure you’ve heard about the crash of the Germanwings airplane in which 150 people were killed. No question, it’s a terrible tragedy and We the Public very much want the big WHY question answered.

The media has been reporting every real, hypothetical, and speculative aspect of the story. And We the Public have gobbled up every morsel of actual news and every droplet of idle speculation and commentary.

What I’ve found most interesting is that in all the reports I’ve heard when people talk about pilots in general, they talk about them as all being male.

I (sort of) get it. The majority of commercial pilots are still men. But there are plenty of women winging through the friendly skies (and you know one of them).

And yet when the media interviews a Random Traveler about their opinion (it’s not news, it’s not relevant, but it fills airtime), and Random Traveler (a woman) says, “I always want to interview my pilot. I want to know if he had a fight with his wife. I want to know if his dog died…” I find it jarring.

I know that “he” is the gender neutral in the English language, and I’m quite comfortable with that—but I’m pretty sure Random Traveler didn’t mean it that way.

I saw our friend the pilot this morning and she assures me that the piloting industry is not a particularly friendly place for women and the percentage of women pilots hasn’t changed in decades.

We’ve come a long way, but we still have a long way to go.

Sending our condolences and heartfelt sympathies to all those whose lives were touched by the crash.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

This is Part 3 of my Traveling From Las Vegas Saga. If you want to review, you can see Part 1 and Part 2 (which I published out of order, but that’s life in the fast lane).

Ridiculous that it takes three blogs to capture the full story, but—believe me—it seemed much longer IRL.

After having been denied travel ability on Saturday (and nevertheless having a grand old evening Saturday night), we ventured off again on Sunday to Mccarran Airport.

This time we left SUPER early so that we wouldn’t be at all bothered by long waits in line.

There were therefore—of course—no lines.

This did not distress us at all.

We got coffee, went to the gate, and waited for our flight.

All of which went without the slightest possible hitch. In fact, we landed at Reagan National Airport early for our connection to Cincinnati.

And as soon as we deplaned, we learned that our connection had been cancelled.

Just so we’re clear, let me set the stage.

It was 9:00ish in the evening. It was flippin’ cold. The airport people were tired and cranky and had been putting up with distressed travelers all day.

And none of us had had dinner.

The airline peoples’ first suggestion was that we hang around for 27 hours to get a flight to Cincinnati. We countered with a polite rendition of “let’s keep looking for other options, shall we?”

The airline people countered with suggesting we hang around long enough to develop teleportation.

Fortunately, we split into 2 groups (there were five of us traveling together at that point) and the fantastic (and reasonably cheerful) Keisha was helping us. She did not suggest teleportation, which was points in her favor.

After much keyboard tapping (and a long monologue by me), Keisha was able to get us on a flight to Indianapolis.

The monologue (which was hilarious) was in response to the way her coworker Malcolm had been treated earlier that day by a Distress Traveler. Malcolm seemed to be of the opinion that it wasn’t his fault that the weather had messed up travel. Being the kind of Mom I am, I cleared that right up for him, explaining that of course it was his fault and he should stop playing with ice-delivering technology. Yeah, in print it’s not that funny, but IRL it was and I managed to improve everyone’s mood.

After Keisha had us rebooked, she had to reroute our luggage. Spoiler alert: the luggage rerouting worked better for some of us than for others of us.

Then we had the great joy of walking down icy steps to the shuttle bus which sat on the tarmac (doors open) waiting for other passengers to show up. None did, but we almost froze to death.

Then the shuttle bus drove us 6 feet to the next terminal. Where there was no food. To be accurate, there was plenty of food but by that time it was Shut Down for The Day Time and so there was no food to be had.

We flew to Indy. Making great time, I might add. One passenger suggested that the pilot had a hot date he needed to get to. I was not able to verify that.

We went directly to baggage claim to claim our bags. As I said, some of us had more luck with that than others. So those of us who needed to filled out claim forms.

We rented a car and began driving to Cincinnati.

Did I mention that people hadn’t been fed? This was a group that travels better when nourished on a regular basis.

So we stopped at Waffle House.

Waffle House Hash Browns

I don’t think I’ve been to a Waffle House in the last 15 years. Did you know they have a whole variety of ways to serve hash browns? You can have them smothered (with onions), covered (with cheese), capped (mushrooms), chunked (ham), diced (grilled tomatoes), peppered (jalapenos not on a steek), topped (chili), or country (sausage gravy). I was impressed and overwhelmed.

Eventually we made it to the Cincinnati Northern Kentucky airport where we dropped the rental, reclaimed parked cars, had a moment of panic when we thought we might not be able to leave the parking garage because there were no attendants, and drove home.

I arrived home (and promptly woke the puppy for a quick reunion) at 4am.

Note: Just in case you weren’t 100% clear, this was not the original travel plan.

Note: And just to be doubly clear, I am delighted to be home.

Love you kiddo,

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

It’s all in how you react. Some people scream and yell and carry on and others take life in stride. All you have to do is look at a kids’ soccer game to see examples of both. Which are you most impressed by?

I recently had the great pleasure of being stuck in the Las Vegas airport. (For what happened after the airport, click here.) Here was my view when I was standing up in the line.

This was my view most of the time. The line was moving at a mere 3 feet per year and there was no real seating, so my coffee and I sat on the floor. Lovely carpet, no?

Of course we went through the 7 Stages of Travel Changes:

1. Dismay. WTF! How could they do this to me??
2. Electronic. Let’s see if we can get rebooked online.
3. Telephonic. Let’s try to reach a live person.
4. Line waiting. And more line waiting.
5. Utter defeat.
6. Gratitude. Sincere gratitude that we were dressed for travel and not wearing crazy heels.
7. Indignance. I can’t get out of here until WHEN???

Rinse and repeat.

For the most part, our fellow travelers were reasonably calm as we were herded through the non-moving line. Which was good, because there really weren’t any alternatives.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Turns out that people are visiting Hawaii. This is not exactly news since people have been visiting Hawaii for years. But all of a sudden People We Are Related To are visiting (without taking me, I should point out) and it seemed like a good time to learn about our 50th state.

There will be a test. (There will not be a trip, but it is possible someone may send you a postcard.)

Hawaii means ‘place of the gods’ or ‘homeland.’ The state nickname is the ‘Aloha State’ (Aloha is one of the most used words in Hawaiian Language). Aloha is used as both ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye.’ Quick—name another language in which the same word is used for both hello and goodbye.

There are only 13 letters in the Hawaiian alphabet and every word—and syllable—ends with a vowel. It’s not clear how many times you have to sing the Hawaiian alphabet song while you wash your hands.

I assume you know what a lei is (no college humor jokes, please). It’s a symbol of affection, but it comes with Rules. Of the Serious variety.

You must never refuse a lei or remove it in front of the person who gave it to you. You must never wear a lei you intend to give to someone else (it’s just rude).

A lei should not be thrown away. It should be returned to the earth (ideally to where the flowers were gathered).

Never, ever give a tied lei to a pregnant woman—it’s very bad luck.

Speaking of rules, billboards are illegal in Hawaii. Snakes are outlawed (except in zoos). And no buildings on Kauai can be taller than a palm tree.

If you’re in Hawaii, you’re a minority. Or there are no minorities depending on how you look at these things. It would take far more work that I plan to put in to figure out which numbers are correct (My Friend the Internet is supplying lots of inconsistent data on this topic), but diversity runs by itself there. You may create a Pie Chart on your own time if you like.

Obviously, diversity is a good thing since Hawaii has the highest life expectancy in the US. Although that may be because they eat more Spam per capita than anywhere else in the country. Or possibly it has something to do with the fact that Hawaiians are all living in paradise and they want to stick around to enjoy it.

Tune in (probably tomorrow) for Part Next of Hawaii.

Aloha!

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

If you happen to be wandering around Croatia, be sure to go to Pula. And if you happen to be wandering around Pula, be sure you go to the amphitheater.

Generally called the Pula Arena, the amphitheater was built a long time ago. And by “a long time ago” I mean somewhere between 27 BCE and 68 AD. Or possibly all those years. It’s a big coliseum. That’s about the same time The Coliseum was built in Rome (just so you have a reference point).

The Pula Arena is the best preserved of the coliseums (colisei?) being the only remaining Roman amphitheater to have four side towers and all its side and parts (except the women’s restrooms which are mysteriously missing).

The amphitheater is made out of limestone and it’s big. But if you want the dimensions you’ll have to look them up yourself since I’m perfectly content with “big” as a descriptor. It had bunches (again, a fine number in my opinion) of shops probably with signs that said “restrooms for patrons only.” There were 15 gates to let in up to 23,000 spectators who came to gawk at gladiators.

Which raises the question: Were gladiators generally glad? I doubt it, but I’m not aware of any time travel experiments to study gladiator personality.

Maximus: What we do in life echoes in eternity.

After the Romans were finished with the arena, they left it lying right where they’d thrown it. During the middle ages, people used the arena for grazing their livestock. This made things complicated (logistically speaking) when the knights (not of the round table) wanted to hold tournaments there. Guess who got use of the land?

Maximus: Strength and honor.

These days the Arena seats about 5,000 people. This is only partly due to the enlargement of bodies. Concerts, film festivals, equestrian events, and the opera regularly call the Arena home. More importantly (depending on how you look at these things), two professional ice hockey games were played there in 2012.

Quotes because I love you not because they have anything to do with the arena.

Love, Mom

Tigris: We who are about to die, salute you!