Foul Called for Traveling

9:00pm 4/29/10

We were supposed to depart ORD 20 minutes ago but we haven't even begun loading. No big deal, this happens all the time. Amy called and told me that there's a tornado watch with a wind advisory and severe thunderstorm warnings for the Omaha area until midnight. I'll hope for the best.

9:15pm

We're finally loaded and ready for takeoff. I can't wait to be home. I've been traveling for four hours already. I can make it another three. It's an hour and a half from ORD to OMA. I'll be a little later than I expected but no more than 30 minutes or so. I should be in my own bed by 11:30pm.

11:00pm

What's taking so long? I'm bored with my DS game and my butt is stiff and sore from sitting in the airplane seat. I can't wait to get off the plane. Maybe we just had to slow down with all this turbulence. It's the worst I've experienced.

11:30pm

We still haven't landed. What's the deal? The flight attendant is picking up the phone. She says that OMA is closed due to weather and we can no longer continue circling and waiting for a window because we're low on fuel. We're rerouting to Des Moines. I hope the Des Moines airport has a bar that's open if I'm going to be spending the night. Wait, Des Moines has an airport?

11:50pm

We've landed in Des Moines. Waiting on the plane for the captain to receive further instructions on whether we'll just refuel and head back to OMA or if we'll be stranded here. The air spewing from the vents is hot and it's starting to smell like fart in here.

12:00am 4/30/10

We're stranded. Sort of. They've instructed us to deplane and they're going to see what options are available for us. Everyone's phones are lighting up, calling loved ones or business contacts, informing them of our detour. Nobody is happy but nobody is unreasonable. It's just weather and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Might as well go with the flow.

They tell us that there will be no flights available from Des Moines to OMA. Not surprising really since Des Moines is only a two hour drive from Omaha. It took us only 20 minutes to fly here. The only other option for potential air travel, north through Minnesota then around the storm and into OMA from the west, has also now been closed to air traffic. They are contacting a charter bus service that will drive us to OMA tonight. Not really looking forward to a two hour bus ride but better that than being stranded in the Des Moines airport. There is NOTHING here. Next time Amy complains about Milwaukee, I'll remind her what Des Moines looks like.

There is NO activity here. We are the only people in the airport. They actually had to have security come and unlock some doors so that we could get to the terminal and outside for pickup. Everybody is waiting in the terminal for now. Some people have arranged hotel stays for the night and took a cab there. They're all together, part of some business trip. They're all dressed alike.

The only car rental facility that still has someone standing behind the counter won't rent a car to drive all the way to Omaha. Many have tried. All have failed. An airport employee has informed us that the charter bus is on its way and should be here in half an hour. Sigh. I'm looking at a 2:30am ETA at home now. That's okay. Better late than never. But still, I've been up since 4:30am CST and I'm really tired.

12:40am

My head is in my hands. Still waiting on the damn bus. Falling aslee... huh? It's here! It's going to be hard to drive home in the dark when I'm so tired like this. By the time everyone loads up and we're rolling, it's going to be at least 1:00am. Maybe I'll get some sleep on the bus.

1:15am

That took longer than expected. The Des Moines airport employees were nice and brought everyone something to drink. Unfortunately, it's sugary, caffeinated soda. I declined. Then they went back and got some water. I still declined. I'm going to be stuck on a bus for the next two hours and I don't want to have to pee. I haven't seen a bathroom since ORD but fortunately, I don't need to go.

The bus is rolling now. Hooray! The driver picks up the microphone and makes an announcement, "I know all you folks are tired and I feel bad about this, but I've already been to Omaha and back today. I'm all out of legal hours to drive the bus. We'll be heading to the northeast end of the city to pick up the driver that will take you to Omaha."

People begin to grumble or hand out mumbled, pointed verbal jabs. "Why didn't they just wait to send the bus with the right driver?" Who knows? At this point, we're all just a little tired and cranky but even though the jokes are a little barbed, people are still in relatively good spirits. Wait. Northeast? That's out of our way! Grumble grumble.

1:30am

We pull into a gas station parking lot. It's a QT with a Burger King next to it. The bus driver makes another announcement, "The driver that will take you to Omaha should be here in about 30 minutes. If you'd like to get something to eat, feel free to go grab something at the Burger King."

WTF! I don't want to eat Burger King food at 1:30 in the morning! I'm not really hungry and even if I was, that stuff would just sit like a lump on my stomach the whole way. And now we have to wait an additional half hour just to get this trip started. This is really getting ridiculous. I just want to be home already.

People are getting a little bit more disgusted but we're trying to laugh about it. Some have gone in to get something to eat. A couple people are taking pictures, presumably to share the experience through images later. I'm dreaming up a witty blog entry.

2:20am

The replacement driver is finally here! We've just started out on the road again, headed west thank God, but not after he and the other driver had a smoke, a nice long chat, and rummaged around in the baggage compartments below the bus to rearrange some stuff. We all realize that this guy was probably called out of bed to come do this and is probably just as unhappy about it as we are, but let's get a move on!

We're on I-80 now and the storm has reached Des Moines. Mile marker 127. Two hours to Omaha. There is a lot of rain coming down. People are joking about other things that could possibly delay us. "We're going to have to go 35 the whole way!"

"Or we'll speed and get caught by the police."

"We could always have a flat tire! Hahahaha!"

I'm sitting by myself so I have two full seats to stretch out on. I put my head down and try to doze.

2:45am???

I did sleep for a little bit but I woke up because the rain is so heavy. There's a pickup truck passing us on the right just a little close for my comfort. I wonder how fast we're traveling? I can't see any mile markers because of the rain.

KABLAM!!! The rear right corner of the bus dips.

Oh fuck no. That did not just happen. I spy a mile marker. Mile 79. It's only been about 40 minutes since we departed the parking lot. The bus lurches over to the side of the highway, stopped. People are waking up. Someone asks the guy next to me sarcastically, "Flat tire, huh?"

The driver gets out and goes back to look at the tire. Yep. Flat. He does some walking around outside and has a smoke. I wonder what's going to happen? I hope he makes some sort of announcement about a plan or how long it will take to fix this. If it's going to take over 90 minutes, Amy could come pick me up. We'd just need to have a neighbor hang out at the house while Nick sleeps or something. Ugh, that's too much trouble. I'm sure it won't take that long. Maybe an hour.

3:45am

We're still on the bus. No announcements have been made but nobody is asking many questions either. I think we all know we're being held hostage by fate. Nothing to be done. I feel like Godot. Who's Godot? There are color maps in the back. I'm tired. I haven't been able to sleep while the bus is stopped.

Two people behind me call an Omaha cab company to see what it would cost to have a cab come pick them up. $270 per person. They stay on the bus.

Finally, some lights pull up from behind us. The local sheriff and the bus repair guy. A handful of men and one woman jump up to go watch and get in the way. The men watch the tire being changed. The woman takes pictures. I keep dreaming up a witty blog entry.

4:20am

We're rolling again. Thank God. Only about an hour and twenty... why are we getting off at this exit in the middle of nowhere? We pull into another gas station parking lot. The driver gets off the bus. What now? I spot him talking with the bus repair guy over by the air pump. They talk for a while and shake hands. Bus Repair Guy drives away. The bus driver goes into the convenience mart. I rub my eyes and wish for this to be over. Nobody is talking or laughing anymore.

4:30am

I think about documentaries and movies that depict what it's like to ride on an Indian or a Columbian bus through the countryside. I should be thankful. This is nothing like that. I just want to be home now. I've been up for 24 hours straight now excepting my little doze a couple hours ago. I just... zzzzzzz

6:15am

It's light out! Wow, I have to pee. Haven't had access to a bathroom in several hours. Well, a proper bathroom, not that stinky hole in the back of the bus. I'll hold it.

6:30am

We arrive at OMA. Nobody says much. I step off the bus and feel like falling down and kissing the ground. I don't. We open the baggage compartments and start unloading bags as quickly as possible. I find mine and head into the terminal for a restroom. I'll be home by 7am.

FIN

This was a true story.

The Law Is (Not Necissarily) the Law

Amy took her grandmother to the airport this morning for departure. Her grandmother is 77 years old and needs assistance to get into and through the airport, so they had pre-arranged for curbside check-in and an attendant to bring her a wheelchair. So after Amy helped her grandmother check in and get her baggage into the airport, she was going to help her grandmother to the wheelchair and then return to her car and depart. But as she walked her grandmother to the chair, a police woman began writing her a ticket. According to Amy, she then told the officer that she was just walking her grandmother to the wheelchair and would depart as soon as that was complete but the officer interrupted her with something about having a job to do and not caring why she was still there. Amy replied with, "Fine. Then you do what you have to do and I'll do what I have to do," and said goodbye to her grandmother. She told me she was in the car and on her way home literally two minutes later.

Now I appreciate the law. It keeps society accountable for its actions and helps to maintain order (as much as can be said) against the potential chaos that might exist if we had no law. My father is a retired police officer. I grew up respecting the police because he was one. But in my adult life, I've seen enough selfish, short-sighted, power-hungry police officers who abuse their station in society primarily by not conforming to the laws that they themselves enforce, that in these kinds of situations, I find it hard to muster any respect for them whatsoever.

Justice is said to be blind, but as far as I can tell, most police officers are not. They are bestowed with the same powers of vision and logical reasoning as most any normal person might be. But when one of them cannot seem to use their powers of acuity for good, when a law might be broken but the context of the situation might merit it forgivable, and they actively refuse to consider that context (to see the proverbial forest through the trees), I see them as not exercising the law to its true potential but rather inflicting it, as one might a weapon, in order to provide themselves with gratification and others with punishment.

As I said before, I respect the law. It provides me and my family with many protections that we would otherwise not be afforded. But this incident will be brought before a judge. We will respect whatever decision is made. But know this: in a system where cops who beat bartenders or make their wives "disappear" are still not held accountable, every tiny instance such as the one I have just reported where leniency would be appreciated but is not granted is another notch on my wall against respect for the force. I am aware that the Chicago Police specifically as an organization are considered quite corrupt, but when it comes to organizations, what reflects poorly on the individual reflects poorly on the entire group and once trust is lost, it is not easily regained.

Home Again

I spent a good portion of the past week helping my dad clean out my grandmother's apartment. It was a lot of work but it was therapeutic and a good way to say goodbye. As I said in my earlier post, one of her qualities that I admired was her sense of humor and I found a lot of things over the past few days that reminded me of that. There were a lot of dirty jokes handwritten on yellowed scraps of paper, pins that said things (in very small print) like "Come any closer and I'll scream, you dirty sex maniac," two pairs of Groucho glasses that she wore to parties with a friend. That's definitely how I'll remember her.

Amy flew home after the funeral on Monday, so I was left with the task of driving back to Chicago yesterday. When I'm alone, I always try to make the trip nonstop and this time was no different. This time I confirmed that I can drive the whole way on one tank of gas although the low fuel light blipped on as I turned onto our street. Also, I almost made the trip in 6.5 hours but the Skyway was down to one lane inbound from three. That added 45 minutes to the trip, but I was still home by 10:15 CST.

Too Many Birthdays!

We've returned from PA over our long weekend celebrating both my mother's birthday and Amy's father's 60th birthday and retirement. Amy had planned a big surprise party for him across three states and it actually worked out really well. He seemed very surprised so that's what I would call success in this case. Brenda, a girl I knew in high school, ended up being there and I haven't seen her in probably six or seven years at a different friend's wedding so we said a quick hello and caught up before she had to leave. Her daughter was super cute and one of the only children I've met that isn't frightened to death of me.

I played tech support on Saturday and helped my dad figure out how to get his music scanned and resized with his new computer and peripherals. OK, dad, it's all up to you now! Just do it and unplug that old Win95a beast! We'll hold a remote retirement party over the internet for it if you want. I also set up my mom's new computer and peripherals which she considered part of her birthday gift, but really, it was just fun for me. I'm just glad I could help out. For her birthday, we took my mom out to dinner and gave her the annual double whammy of gifts for Mother's Day and her birthday.

Madison Madness and Money

Amy and I went to Madison last weekend to visit Evan and Sandy. On Saturday, we went to the airing of 'Michael Feldman's Whad'ya Know?' at the Monona Convention Center. I ended up getting on the show for about five seconds courtesy of a question that Dennis insisted be asked of a guest director at the Musicbox Massacre, "Which would win in a fight: an 800 pound gorilla or 800 one-pound squirrels?". Unfortunately, no answer to the question was even attempted, but it did offer me a questionable fame of the NPR variety. Proof of the event can be found at the shows website, www.notmuch.com. The date of our attendance was October 21st and I'm on near the top of the second hour of the show, probably in the third segment.

On Sunday, we made a short visit to Devil's Lake following an afternoon tour of Baraboo through various artists' homes. Local artists were showing their wares throughout the area and so we stopped at a number of them, not only admiring their craft but also partaking in some of the snacks that were available as a thank you for visiting. One place even had soup, which was a warm welcome on a rather frigid October day. We also played Artifact, the game I got from my parents a few months ago a couple of times and we can now see some of the strategies involved and how they can be turned around quickly during the endgame.

Finally, my first batch of freelance work will be coming from Rosetta Stone sometime in the next few days. It appears that this could be relatively steady work and the extra money will definitely come in handy while we still have the kitchen debt. I'm not exactly sure how I would like to manage these monies yet, though. I have always wanted to set up a seperate account for freelance audio work an have that money pay for more and better studio gear. In other words, the money made from extra audio work would go toward some kind of studio fund. That was the advice that was given to me quite a while ago and I would like to follow it, but that kitchen debt is just begging to paid. Obvioulsy, more thought will have to be given to the matter. Ultimately, I would rather have this dilemma over the problem of finding where the money is going to come from in the first place.

The Road More Travelled

Amy and I were visiting our childhood home this past Labor Day Weekend for her brother's wedding ceremony. Despite a slightly rocky rehearsal, the ceremony went quite well. Mike and Pam are now enjoying the Caribbean sun from the deck of a ship most likely somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. Congratulations to the new couple!

While we were visiting, my mother recommeded that Amy and I take a walk on a newly paved bike trail that wound through the trees just behind some houses in my old neighborhood. As we walked the path, I was astounded by how closely it followed the motorcycle paths that had been so well travelled by my friends and I when we were kids. A good number of kids in my neighborhood, myself included, had small off-road motorcycles in the mid '80s that we would use to get around town. We would ride through fields and forested areas to avoid the roads, not to mention it was much more fun. Eventually, newly constructed homes eliminated our motorized access to the paths, but by then we had our drivers' licenses and had no need for the dirt bikes anymore. It was really fun to be able to walk the trails that I had driven countless times over 20 years ago and I had to laugh when I thought about how easy it must have been to find a good route for the bike path because a bunch of 12 year old kids had driven it bare such a long time ago.

On the Road Again

The reunion was good. It was indeed a long drive to Plattsburgh, New York, but the return home was much longer. We had just reentered the USA from Canada on Interstate 69 when our radiator decided to die. I noticed that the 'Check Engine' light had come on and almost simultaneously, Amy pointed out that the thermostat needle had spiked. We pulled off the highway immediately. I opened the hood and the coolant reservoir was full of boiling liquid. It was only a matter of a couple of minutes until both the radiator and the reservoir were bone dry.

We called for a tow and after a thirty minute wait we found ourselves at a garage. After another hour, the mechanics insisted that they had found nothing wrong. Thankfully, the garage had not charged us for their time because we weren't on the road again for more than ten minutes until it became obvious that the problem was recurring. We had been closely monitoring the status of the engine temperature and it was slowly, but steadily creeping higher the further we drove.

Not knowing what else to do, we consulted the owner's manual a final time in an attempt to find any useful information. Luckily, the manual did indeed have a good tip that got us home without any more major incidents. Basically, we drove the remining seven hours home in 85 degree weather with the fan on its highest setting, the heat cranked, and the windows down. This rerouted the heat from the engine to a different system and kept it cool enough to be run for longer periods of time. At first I was a little worried that this solution was only a patch fix that made things seem ok on the surface, so I called my dad, who was also on the road returning home from the reunion, but he reassured me that we were fine to drive the rest of the way home with while cranking the heat. We did stop more often to give the engine a break, though. In all, the 15 hour trip turned into 20 hours pretty quickly.

In the end, we had the radiator replaced and the car is running well again. However, we are going to start shopping for a new car soon. I don't know how we'll afford it since we just spent so much money on the kitchen, but I don't feel 100% secure taking it on too many long trips. I think trips to western Pennsylvania are about as far as we'll be going for now until we find a new car.

After that incident, we headed for Cancun, Mexico from Friday, July 28th until August 1st. It was a welcome, relaxing break. The weather there was acutally cooler than it was here, but we didn't discover that until the pilot of our returning flight announced that the local temperature was 99 degrees Fahrenheit. Compared to the ninety degree days spent in the ocean breeze, the hundred degree days in an asphalt jungle were kind of shock.

We are now back home to stay, though. At least until we return to Grove City for Amy's brother's wedding.

Unlike Joyce

We're leaving for New York tonight. Family reunion. My mom got a DS Lite last week. If I get one, I could potentially play games with my mom. She seems to like it. Maybe Nintendo's strategy is working. Neverwinter Nights 2 is delayed but I don't think I care. I haven't seen some of the people that will be at the reunion in twenty years. It might be a little weird. It will be nice to get away from work for a few days. It will be a long drive but we have some books. I'm reading Joyce right now. I can't write like Joyce. I don't think I really want to though. I wasn't really trying to either. It just came out so criticism is unnecessary.

Weekend Wrap-up

Amy and I spent most of our relaxing weekend in Union Pier, Michigan. We spent time sitting on the beach, riding our bicycles around the area, and lounging in or outside of our room. We had a balcony, so if we were at the house in the evenings we could sit outside and look at the night sky.

I really did not want to come home on Monday, but come home we did. Once we returned, we spent most of yesterday cleaning the kitchen out in preperation for its demolition tomorrow. Tonight we will cover the living room furniture in plastic to stave off some of the inevitable dust. The electrician will also begin work tomorrow afternoon. If all goes smoothly, the cabinets will all be installed next Tuesday. I'll be taking pictures of the transformation, so hopefully, if you are interested, I can send the collection when the project is done.

Finally, we had the opportunity to see a couple of movies over the weekend, Three Extremes and Dark Days, both of which I can recommend.

White Hat, Cold Feet

Chicago and most of the area around it got pelted with a snow storm yesterday. From what I shoveled between last night and this morning, it seemed in the neighborhood of four to five inches. Amy told me that it started snowing around 2pm but I didn't notice it until 4pm what with the whole not having any windows nearby thing at work. For some reason, I decided to wait for the late bus, thinking that it would only be 10-15 minutes late so I left my office at 5:15pm. But, as I walked to the bus stop I couldn't help but notice that I was traveling almost as fast as the cars on the road.

I only waited at the bus stop for about 5 minutes when I realized I might get home faster if I started to walk. Trudging through the snow while it was still coming down was fun for about a mile. I kept peering over my shoulder through the white wall of falling snow for any hint of a bus-shaped vehicle but the only thing I saw were trucks. The second mile was hard and my scorn for automobiles rose with every stumble I took over an unseen curb. I was covered in snow and my feet were cold and beginning to get a little damp.

As I approached the third mile, which is also the stop where the bus would have dropped me off had it been even remotely on time, it drove past me. I could have sworn I saw everyone inside laughing at me, illuminated by those sick yellow lights. Dirty lights they were and evil, too! With less than another mile to go, I was beginning to get tired. My mind wandered and I began to imagine myself as a hapless character in some unknown Jack London novel. I wanted to wrap myself in a bear pelt and hide in someone's bushes under the front window just to add to my newly created mythos.

Finally I arrived home, my legs tired from over an hour of walking through the cold and a mild amount of snow. I dropped my bag off in the house, petted Sid for a minute, and then went back out to get a head start on the task of shoveling the driveway and sidewalks. Once I was finished, Amy came home, we had some dinner and promptly did nothing but watch Dark City before retiring for the evening.

Killer Road Trip

For the four people who read these ramblings, I apologize that November was a slow month for posts. But, I was so busy with other things that posting just kind of went away and hid under a bed for awhile.

After I finished building my new computer, Amy and I packed up our belongings and partied east coast stylee in VA Beach (prounounced "vuh-beech", as Mike Parker always used to say). Adam and Theresa's wedding festivities went well and if you're curious about any of the goings on, please email me. I'd love to document what happened, but despite the lack of huge readership on this blog, I'd feel a little weird about making it all so public. Besides, if you're one of those four people I mentioned before, you probably already know all of the fun, juicy stuff anyway.

The week after wedding was Thanksgiving so Amy and I spent that time with family in PA since we were already over that way. It had been colder than normal in Virginia, but when we got to PA it did nothing but snow. At least, in my memory it did nothing but snow. On Thanksgiving Day proper, while traveling to Amy's grandparents house, we actually had to pull off of the road for about 10-15 minutes due to white-out conditions. I couldn't see anything beyond the hood of our borrowed car. No thanks.

Speaking of traveling mishaps, I've never felt safer on a plane than when I was in the cab on our return trip home from the airport. As we were pulling away from the terminal, navigating the tangled S-curves that lead traffic away from the airport, the driver's phone rang. He was looking for it but couldn't find it. Amy spotted the phone and tried to hand it to him, thrusting his arm well in front of his field of vision so that he could easily see it without looking around. However, as Amy exclaimed that she had his phone, he turned his entire torso toward the back seat. At that point the cab promptly careened into another cab in the adjacent lane. It was just a small dent and some paint so after a few minutes and exchanged insurance information we were on our way home again. The rest of the trip was only mildly harrowing, but it was not without a race against some falling railroad crossing gates. If I hadn't been so tired, I might have kissed the asphalt of our driveway when we pulled up to the house.

So, now that we've been home for just over a week, the Christmas tree is up and the lights are on the bushes outside or front window, complete with a frosty covering of fresh snow. I'm bored. When's my next vacation?

Look! Skyflowers! Crash!

After years of waiting, Amy finally has her cherished table and buffet that belonged to her grandmother. Over this past holiday weekend, we traveled home, visited with family, picked up the furniture and traveled home. I'll post some pictures of the table in its new home when I get a chance to take some. Interestingly, the table's new home is not very far from its first one. After we had taken the table apart, we noticed a label that indicated that it had been made in Rockford, Illinois. Then it was bought and sold by Kaufmanns in Pennsylvania.

The return trip was mostly uneventful. The only drawback in traveling in the darkness of the 4th of July is that eventually, public fireworks displays begin to appear all over the horizon and some travelers forget that they are going 70-75 miles per hour on an interstate highway which leads to a lot of unnecessary maneuvering. Add to that a steady downpour and things can get downright ugly. We saw lots of close calls and one accident which was unrelated to the fireworks, but we remained out of harm's grip.

Prior to the July 4th weekend, Ian and Rachel were in Chicago to visit before their trip to the Dominican Republic. We spent some time at the taste on Sunday and Amy took them to a graveyard (I don't remember which one) that is the final resting place of a number of famous Chicagoans. It was very cool to hang out with them again. Oh, they came bearing a gift from Joel, too: six white peaches from his fruit market. Thanks, Joel! The peaches were delicious.

Currently listening to: Night Marchers, Medeski, Martin & Wood

Welcome to Your New Home

Happy holidays to everyone. Amy and I are currently spending some time with our families during all of the annual events that are normally a part of this time of year. We delayed our travel home by one day due to the massive snow storm that swept across Indiana and Ohio on the 23rd. It was a wise decision because we saw many stranded vehicles in the median as we travelled east on I-80.

Things in our home town haven't changed much beyond the normal superficial alterations. Businesses have opened and closed, more people have moved into its borders, roads have been paved(!), but under the surface it's mostly the same place that we left a few years ago. Considering that assumption, I'm not sure how some people spend their entire lives in the same area. Nobody in my family avoided moving around the country to some extent whether that move was a few counties or a few states away and I am no exception. I very much enjoy living in Chicago and if the day comes when we are forced to leave, it will not be without some amount of disappointment.

Currently listening to: Pearl Jam, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town

Weekend Getaway (Slowly)

Amy and I went home for Rachel's wedding shower and Ian's bachelor party respectively. Joel and I took Ian to Dave and Buster's at the Waterfront in Homestead, blew a wad of cash, and had a great time in the process. There were only three of us, which was a bit of a disappointment. However, those that could not attend weren't simply no-shows. In fact, two out of the missing four were at another wedding. Both Ron and Ben were attending Ben's brother Chris' wedding. Adam couldn't make it due to his schedule and Jason was sick. They missed out on a good time, but nothing too wild. Our bachelor parties tend to be on the tame side as not all of this particular circle of friends imbibe, not to mention that we've never been the locker room bragging types, so the thought of a mostly naked stranger thrusting herself at us is not the kind of entertainment we need.

Regardless of how many attended or our lack of stereotypical vices, we had a good time getting together again. I know that some high school friends stay in touch, but I continue to find it amazing that all of us still manage to visit each other and even take group vacations together. It's been eleven years and we still make time for each other despite how slim that time gets. I usually wonder how many other groups of 5-6 high school friends remain that close even when they move across multiple states. I am sure we are not alone.

The drive to Pennsylvania was horrendous this time. Due to some nasty construction traffic, it took 10.5 hours to make a trip that will usually take us 8-8.5 hours. We sat for 2 hours in a virtual parking lot. However, we took a longer detour around the construction on the return trip but later discovered from one of Amy's coworkers who was also traveling west on I-80 to Chicago at approximately the same time that the traffic was merely slow. *sigh*

Now we have been back in Chicago for a few days and all is normal again. The house closing is approaching quickly with just over a month remaining until our move. Also, I have about 5 more weeks of leading the music at our church until I take an extended vacation which will be greatly appreciated. Looking forward...

Currently listening to: Miles Davis, All Blues

Partly Cloudy With a Chance of Showers

It appears that I spoke too soon regarding our house purchase as there has been a turn of events in the last few days. We had reached a stand-off in negotiations and we weren't willing to relinquish anymore of our requests. So, we called our lawyer and told him that we were walking away from the table. In a matter of hours, the tide had turned. Now, I'm not trying to brag about any perceived superiority of our negotiating skills. I'm only saying that we had made a number of concessions to meet the sellers in the middle and it seemed that they were unwilling to meet with us over a couple of minor items. At the time, while we didn't want to sacrifice a house that we wanted, we didn't want to give up anything else that we had requested, plain and simple. So, things are once again progressing smoothly and we should be moved in by the third week of July.

We'll be traveling home in a couple of weeks for Rachel's bridal shower. I'll also be spending some time with Ian and Joel miles away in a dark video arcade so that neither of them will have to endure the concentrated tea party that is a bridal shower. Even though they would not have participated in the shower, if I were not going with Amy, they would have been near it, which would be kind of like a lame spacecraft being sucked into the orbit of a nearby celestial body. They would have been forced to endure cuteness and frilly-ness that no man should have to endure, even from a distance.

Currently listening to: The Innocence Mission, July