Brain Dump

Traveling With Little People

I'm on a west bound Continental flight to SFO. I didn't get my customary upgrade or even an exit row, which always sets the tone for an interesting flight.

I was overjoyed to have a 3 and a half year old sitting next to me. The poor boy's mother was on leg 2 of three (from West Palm Beach to Houston to San Fran to Australia). I have found that since I have begun traveling with a child, I am much more tolerant of children on the plane, and their attendant needs.

That said, this little boy had some issues. The woman was literally dragging him on his stomach back to where she wanted him. He was hitting and pinching her, screaming, demanding things...basically a camera crew away from a Super Nanny special.

Even when he reached into my drink and grabbed an ice cube I remained cool. Frankly, it didn't bother me. Somewhere, deep inside me, I have definitely achieved a calm and sense of peace when dealing with little people issues and travel. Perhaps I believe that I am saving travel karma in a bank for when my little Chickpea, or soon my LittleCannon, decide to act up when we go on one of our trips.

The hardest part was not trying to control any form of anger or frustration directed at the child, but restraining from offering up parenting tips to this woman. Let's just say she did a lot of things I would not have done, and did not do many things I might have tried. Not to say that what I would have tried would have worked, but what was doing wasn't, and it was clear she wasn't getting creative.

Oh well, here's to hoping my future travel days are somehow made easier that hers.

Mississippi Burning

OK, I know that I had some less than favorable things to say about the South during my trip out to South Carolina to visit my brother, but here is some more goodness from the trip, except this one can be filed under the "Observer was really tired" category.  Hey, it's a 17 hour drive and I did it in one day.

While driving through Mississippi, I noticed a road sign that said "this highway sponsored by Miss. State Highway Patrol."  Given the proclivity for weirdness in the South, the notion that Mississippi had a stretch of highway sponsored by a beauty queen wasn't all together weird.  There's a stretch of highway in Los Angeles that Bette Midler sponsored, so why not the Miss. State Highway Patrol?  I guess what should have clued me in to my folly was that it seemed like such a strange beauty pageant title.  This being the South, and this being a time in our history where we are finding ever more ways to celebrate mediocrity, I figured that perhaps there was a young woman out there who was very proud to be the Miss. State Highway Patrol.

Progressing from weird to just downright bizarre, let me introduce you to the newest beauty pageant winners who are also sponsoring highways in the state (in order of appearance):

1. Miss. Joint Port
2. Miss. Juvenile Rehab Facility
3. Miss. Maximum Security Detention Center

I honestly don't know why it took me until the last facility sign to realize that what I was looking at was an abbreviation for the state.  I know, I know, I'm a dolt.  Be that as it may, let me tell you, the woman that I imagined winning the rehab facility crown was quite a looker.

Sweet Carolina

Doing a bit of travel this week and find myself in South Carolina visiting my brother.  I drove out, and this trip has seen many oddities thus, far.  Way more than Texas for sure.  Here is my absolute favorite piece of the trip:

The great thing about this little gas station was that it was, in a word, "country."  The woman behind the counter had many missing teeth, multiple tattoos, and a gravely voice that could only be earned through many years of smoking several packs a day.  Ambiance notwithstanding, the notion that the place was under "old management" was intriguing.  What treasures were minding the counter before Steve came back?  My imagination fails me, but only because I have seen what I have seen and cannot imagine anything more strange.

Other fun items from this trip:

1. Houston is supposedly the nation's fattest city.  I stopped at a Cracker Barrel in Louisiana and let me tell you something: it's no surprise that New Orleans jumped from 22 to 7 on this year's list.  I saw maybe, and I emphasize the maybe, two women under size 6.  Most were 14 or larger.  Wow.  Women in H-town definitely have some heft, but these Louisiana women were LARGE.
2. Alabama, wherever I stopped, is scary.  I can offer no other explanation.  The gas station scared me, the roads scared me, and the people gave me the willies.  I don't know what city I stopped in.  In fact, it didn't even occur to me to ask.  I simply hopped that the memory would fade faster if I didn't know the name.  The restaurant I ate a speedy dinner in had no non-smoking section.  The entire place was smoking allowed.  Where else in this country is that even possible?
3. My nephew loves Lil' John.  He knows maybe 20 words in total, but if you start playing any Lil' John music, my nephew yells "What?  OK!"  Apparently these are some Lil' John lyrics he heard.  He also throws his hand up and down like a rapper.  It's very, very cute.  Bill O'Reilly be damned...who says rap is a bad influence on children?
4. I went to Fort Jackson to do my long bike ride.  Ambiance was in full effect.  There were live fire exercises going on, replete with artillery shells flying around, and tanks blasting away.  I appreciated that there were holes in the road which were probably not caused by errant shells, but I liked to think that they were.  It made the ride more interesting.
5. There was one piece of highway that came to a junction.  I really wish I could remember the highway numbers, but I can't.  I'll take note on the return drive.  For now I will make up the highway numbers.  At this junction you can turn left and get to 14N and 75S or turn right and get onto 14S and 75N.  Is this a nexus of the universe?  Could one put their car at this juncture, turn either direction, floor it, and in fact be going nowhere?  It boggles the mind.
6. Every third exit, on three different highways, going in different directions, here in Irmo, SC (next to Columbia) is for Broad River Road.  I'm not sure how this is possible, but it is the south.  Maybe I am overstating this, but there are a lot of exits for what appears to be the same road, none of which, due to the laws of physics, could connect.
7. If you think Starbucks is taking over the world, I have two words for you.  "Waffle House."  I started counting the Waffle House signs somewhere in Louisiana.  I stopped when I reached 100.  Basically, at every stop between Houston and Irmo, which is 1070 miles, there is a Waffle House.  No, I'm not kidding.