The 80’s group Blondie had a hit called “Island of Lost Souls.” I love that song, it is kind of quirky and fun. However, there is a time when you run into a place where the song seems more true than not. Today was one of those days.
I had to travel to Florida this morning for a Chaplain conference. Since I came back from Iraq I do travel a lot less well than I used to and to make matters worse conferences of almost any kind at best come close to pushing me to the edge. Sleep was difficult as usual the night before I travel, trying to anticipate every contingency, going through my packing list and ensuring everything I needed was there, getting up an hour later to make sure and setting multiple alarm clocks just to make sure I don’t miss my flight. I know why I do this. Before Iraq I traveled a lot and got good at it. In Iraq a did a lot more of this and got into a routine of checking, double checking and even triple checking to make sure that I had everything that I needed knowing that it would not be available the places that I was going or places that I might get marooned. I have carried that back with me. I actually have the same pack that I carried on every mission over there. It is an excellent piece of gear, made by Blackhawk.
Anyway, today was a hellish travel day. The weather across the east coast was crappy. My first flight was delayed an hour, my second flight as well. If that was not bad enough the Delta airlines failed to have people at gates and jet ways when gate changes happened, leaving people to miss flights and nearly miss vacation cruises. On our connecting flight at Atlanta’s Harts-Jackson Field was delayed, in my case a good thing as had it been on time I would have missed it or had my luggage delayed. While in line waiting for the flight announcements were periodically made, each one either delivering a later flight time or excuse for the delay. The excuses often were inconsistent. I’m not saying that an airline would lie, but it seemed to my little pea brain that the excuses conflicted. Let’s face it, if you are going to lie be consistent and always remember that it is not a lie if you believe it. Unfortunately the people lying to us were not very believable.
As I waited I surveyed my fellow disgruntled travelers. Now by this time I had both extra meds as well as my 8 AM and 1230 PM doses of Samuel Adams Boston Lager. Normally I’ll wait until dinner for a beer, but I knew that I needed a bit more today. The last conference that I flew to was in Orlando last year and that about put me over the edge. If you have PTSD a few months after coming out of combat zone going through the Orlando in the middle of the Summer pilgrimage of millions of the faithful to Wally World to see Randy Rodent and Doofey is not a fun experience. Thanks be to God for her good care. She ensured that my doctor had given good drugs and the airport pubs provided good beer not to mention a Chili Dog with mustard, thus by the middle of the afternoon I was doing far better than most of my fellow travelers. It was then that the Blondie song came into my mind. This was not the Island of Lost Souls but the Land of Unhappy Travelers. I listened to some people’s stories and they were like “Lemony Snickets: A Series of Unfortunate Events.” Atlanta had become a vortex of very disgruntled travellers who had missed flights, been bumped from flights or delayed endlessly. If you don’t believe in the Catholic doctrine of Purgatory just try Atlanta on a day like today. I looked around, and though barely holding on myself I was able to find some gallows humor in the midst of this angony. I looked around the people around me and said “Ladies and gentlemen it is my distinct displeasure to welcome you to the land of unhappy travelers.” I actually got a few laughs. I then made a comment about the airline, which I had not flown in a couple of years, saying “I’m glad to see that some things stay the same, our airline still has same crappy service that they had a few years ago. As we started boarding we boarded by zones as some airlines are want to do. I personally prefer the first come or first signed in first seated way that Southwest does things, unfortunately the government contract was no longer with Southwest. As they announced “boarding zones one through five,” I commented, “yep, you guys in zone 92 still have a while to wait. On each flight we had bad weather, turbulence and on one flight the air condition did not start kicking in until we were getting ready to land.
When I got to my destination I heard stories even worse than mine, all focused around the vortex of doom that swirled around Atlanta. The only place that I thought it could have gone worse was Washington Dulles, where my experiences have been nearly all bad.I survived but by the time I got to my hotel my ass was kicked.
At the end of the day I had survived. A few beers and a bit of wine with good fellowship with friends made things better.
So to all those who have suffered today, the inhabitants of the Land of Unhappy Travelers, I bid you a good night and safe travel, whenever you get out of Atlanta.
Peace, Steve+
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The Inglorius Padre Steve's World 