When this website was first under construction, the goal was to humorously write about me visiting the attractions, restaurants, and historical sites of New York City. Then it was discovered that visiting the attractions, restaurants, and historical sites of New York City require a lot of these things called “money” and “time”, which most comedian/writer/wireless reps don’t have a whole lot of. So, the goal shifted slightly to writing about life in the Big Apple, with a dabbling of all the original crap.
So of course this post is about visiting Florida. Obviously I have no idea what the hell this website is. But hey, that’s what makes it fun, right?
Anyway, last week was not only my Dad’s birthday, but also his and my mom’s wedding anniversary, so it seemed like as good a time as any to take a break and head down to the Sunshine State where my father lives. I coaxed Evi into coming with me by allowing her to think we’d go visit nature in some form. She loves nature, but as I understand it, it involves actually going outside, so of course I had no intention of following through.
My roommate John agreed to take the morning off from any I.T. or cannibis-related work to drive us to the airport using my car. I asked Evi multiple times before we left if she was sure she packed everything she needed, so of course about halfway to JFK, she announced that she forgot something. “NOOOOOO! We have to turn around!” Evi exclaimed. “I forgot my iPad!” Unfortunately for her, there were men in the front two seats. Men do not backtrack. I’m not sure we’d have turned around if we’d forgotten Evi. We pressed on.
At the airport, the line at security was about normal, which is to say perhaps less than three miles long. When I finally got to where they inspect you, I was given the choice of standing in a machine that looked like the Transporter Room of the U.S.S. Enterprise, or experiencing what they called a “thorough pat down” by TSA officials. I looked at the officials; they were staring at me, wearing rubber gloves. I chose the Transporter Room. “Beam me up, Scotty,” I said. Much like you just now, nobody laughed.
Seated at our gate was a young couple with a crying baby. You’d think I’d be upset, but I’ve flown enough to know that FAA Regulations must require that every commercial aircraft have a crying baby, because I’ve sure the hell never been on a flight without one. I’ve decided that if I ever have to fly with a baby of my own, I’m going to buy him or her a seat about ten rows away from me. I’ll hand whoever is sitting next to my baby a bottle and say, “His or her feeding time is about a half hour from now. Please don’t forget because he or she gets cranky if they’re not fed, and I’m going to be trying to get some sleep up front.”
“WHAT THE HELL! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR BABY! AND WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING ‘HE OR SHE’?!?”
“Dude, seriously, calm down, you’ll make him or her cry. And I don’t know the gender yet. Make sure to gently rock him or possibly her to sleep after feeding.”
While still at the gate, my roommate texted me that he couldn’t pick me up at the airport when we got back, but at least he found a parking spot for my car under a tree where birds see vehicles as toilets-on-wheels all day long. Good ol’ John.
The flight went well enough. In fact, someone must have gotten smart and drugged that baby, because I never heard him. Or her.
My father and my friend Keith greeted us Southwest Florida International Airport, then took us to my Dad’s house, where we spent the rest of the night catching up. It was great to spend time with my dad again. He was in really good spirits, and we laughed and joked around quite a bit. Soon, though, all the traveling got to Evi and I, and we turned in for bed. I decided that no matter what, I was definitely not going outside to look at stupid nature the next day.
COMING SOON, PART II: JOE TAKES EVI OUTSIDE TO LOOK AT STUPID NATURE THE NEXT DAY