JOHN - April 18, 2008, Chicago

We departed from Logan Airport and arrived at O’Hare (because its on the way to Buenos Aires?!). After a 3 hour layover (chair massage for me by some guy named Roaul at the “Rub Hub”—quite good, browsing the bookshops, and dinner at Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant) we finally boarded. There were some random open seats and Ashley began the hunt. Something in her changes. She smells blood or something and gets into hyper focus mode. In this case the hunt was on for a row of three seats across for us, room to lie down should we need it on the eleven hour flight. I had just loaded our carry-on bags onto the overhead bin and was about to sit in our assigned seats…” Hon! Come on! We gotta go right now!” “Huh?” “Come on, go, go, go!” Of course I blindly followed. We got three together but she was disappointed not to have landed two rows of three back to back which she had her sights on until some lady (bitch) just sat down ahead of us. So instead of 6 seats for the two of us we had to settle for 3. We got settled, watched the stupid movie about how to buckle a seat, and then we waited. And waited. Over a good hour. We were told a gage on the second (backup) engine was not opening correctly and it was being worked on. Then after a good hour we were told they were grounding the fucker. "Everybody up. Get your shit. Vaminos! Thank you for choosing American Airlines."

April ’07 has not been a good month for American Airlines. They recently grounded 2,000 aircraft for faulty <> causing disruption throughout their schedule for weeks. They were just catching up we were told.

As I write this they just announced that they have in fact grounded the plane and they have found a new plane. The new departure time is now 11:55pm out of gate K5 arriving in B.A. at 1:30 PM (instead of 9:30am). “At least the girls aren’t with us,” says Ashley.

I kind of wish they were.

Leaving them for 9 days is a new record. Also the idea of our flying together has been weighing on my mind. Growing up my parents would never fly together without my sister, Kathleen, and I. Their fear was dying in a fiery crash and leaving us orphans. I always liked that idea of them not flying alone. My mom’s mom had died when she was 3 and obviously affected her deeply. She has a fear of, well not a fear so much as a grave appreciation, for what can go wrong when someone leaves on a trip or goes away, or arrives late from somewhere. She is more prone than most to think the worst. I inherited that and I think my sister may have as well. As a result when I say goodbye to them, or Ashley, or Noelle or Aydan, it always occurs to me that this could be it. Morbid, yes, but I do 95% of the time feel good that I left on a good note, or make sure to say something nice as opposed to a sarcastic joke. I hate for my last words to a loved one to be, “Nice tie jackass, hopefully next time I see you you’ll have lost it.”

So 9 days away from Aydan and Noelle feels kind of long. Its great to have time alone with Ashley. I’m very excited about the trip and frankly its got me kind of “frisky” as Mr. C would say on Happy Days.