Tag: Oakland

Just Another Football Sunday

The daytime games didn’t hold much more than peripheral interest for us, though I enjoyed watching Oakland and New England play a full four quarters in heavy rain.

“I’m going to fold these jeans and leave them near the bed for tomorrow,” I told Helaine last night. “Right,” she said. “Will you even be up for the first game?”

OK–I never got out of my pajamas today. I didn’t take the camera out as I’d planned. In fact I barely made halftime before coming downstairs. I hate it when she knows more about me than I do.

We spent the day watching football on TV. The daytime games didn’t hold much more than peripheral interest for us, though I enjoyed watching Oakland and New England play a full four quarters in heavy rain.

With the Eagles way behind we’ve taken to rooting against teams hoping for entree to the NFC wild card. Lose Redskins. Lose Cowboys. Lose Atlanta. We got two of three.

“Go Giants,” Helaine said earlier today. Really? It’s come to that? How sad.

On Her Way Home

Helaine leaves Las Vegas this afternoon for the flight home. The good news is, she flies with the wind at her back, making the trip home much shorter, timewise, than the trip out. On the other hand, she immediately loses three hours by virtue of the time change.

Helaine leaves Las Vegas this afternoon for the flight home. The good news is, she flies with the wind at her back, making the trip home much shorter, timewise, than the trip out. On the other hand, she immediately loses three hours by virtue of the time change.

Her plane gets to Bradley after midnight. A quick check on FlightAware shows this Oakland/Las Vegas/Hartford flight is consistently on time or even early.

The house is in reasonable shape. I have a few loads of laundry to do. The mail has been brought in the house and left virtually untouched. I’ll straighten that pile.

Last night, on the way back from Uncasville, I pulled the car to the side of the road and got Helaine’s boarding pass, using my cellphone.

Rick, sitting in the passenger seat (apprehensive some errant truck was going to sideswipe us) probably wondered about my slavishly anal retentive dedication to this particular task. It was so out-of-line with the rest of me.

Though I went online within two minutes of the passes availability, it is number 43. On the way down, getting it an hour late, Helaine got number 45. I don’t quite understand how this works.

In any event, she’ll board early enough in the process to get the aisle or window seat she wants. Sit too far forward, in what seems like the best seats, and the obligatory screaming baby will keep you ‘entertained’ all flight.

What did we do before cellphones? Separated by 2,000 miles, we were both reachable by the other around-the-clock. That’s an amazing convenience and huge change from how it was as recently as 15 years ago.

More than any other innovation since the jet age began, cellphones have changed travel.

On the other hand, when you’re on vacation, you’re often isolated from news. Helaine didn’t know about the Las Vegas ricin scare until I told her, a day after it as reported nationally.

I’m really looking forward to Helaine’s return. The house is too quiet. Her company is missed. I’m nearly out of snacks.

Plane Talk About The Flight Home

We’re on our way home from Las Vegas. I’m typing this from 39,000 feet somewhere over the vast void that is the middle of America.

Helaine obtained a late checkout, so we left the hotel at 2:30, heading first to refill the rental car and then return it to the “Giant Rental Car Building,” newly opened south of the airport. All the car rental companies share this facility and the shuttle buses that leave every few minutes. This part of the experience, coming and going, was painless.

Oh – there is one thing. Our car had Sirius Satellite Radio. We discovered that sometime around day five and quite by accident. Since Dollar pays for it, and I wanted to use it, you’d think there would have been a placard or sticker advertising its availability. Even when I hit the right button (by mistake) there was only a hint of what I’d unlocked.

We did get to hear a little Nina Blackwood, Martha Quinn, Mark Goodman and former Philly favorite, Michael Tierson. I always had a thing for Martha.

Sunday afternoon at McCarren Airport is a medley of your favorite lines. We stood in line to get our baggage weighed and tagged. We stood in line for security. Helaine stood in line for food. And, of course, we sat in line to get our choice of seats on the plane.

AMAZING, BUT TRUE STORY ALERT: As we checked in, the agent asked for our heaviest bag first. On the scale it went. Southwest only allows (in my family the word ‘only’ must be included) 50 pounds per bag. The bag weighed 49.95 pounds! When the agent put the tag on the bag, the weight rose to exactly 50.00 pounds. None of us had ever seen anything like it.

This was probably the last time we’ll be sitting on the floor, holding our place in line, in the Southwest terminal. Next month they unveil a new, modified boarding system which will reward those who are anal retentive and get their boarding passes within the first few minutes after they become available. The punctual will then get their choice of the best seats!

From the cockpit, this is the pilot.” How many times do you want to hear those words on a flight?

Why ask?

We wanted to sleep. He wanted to speak. “Folks, it’s going to be bumpy over the Rockies.” “Folks, we’re over the Rockies and it’s bumpy.” “Folks we’re passed the Rockies and I’m turning off the seat belt sign.”

There were a few more announcements. I forget exactly what they were, except Iowa City was off to the left during one and “we’re over Chicago,” on the other. The “peddling as fast as we can” line was only funny the first time.

Considering the hour of this flight, I’m surprised the cabin lights were never dimmed. Though, with chatterbox driving, the point was probably moot.

Our flight left Las Vegas 45 minutes late. The plane was there on time, but we waited for connecting passengers from Oakland. Having been on the receiving end of that kind of largess in the past, I didn’t mind being on the giving side tonight.

All Southwest flights are in 737s. It’s funny how times have changed, because Southwest now uses that as a selling point in its ads. You never fly in a little plane on Southwest. A few years ago, when the domestic carriers used wide bodied jets of many more routes, Southwest’s claim would have been laughed off the TV. Now, when the alternative is a 30, 40 or 50 seat regional jet, Southwest has a point.

I have spent much of the last few hours trying to figure out a way to allow fully reclining seats on a 737. Maybe if you remove the overhead bins and create an upper-lower configuration for the seats? There’s got to be a way, and whichever airline does it first, wins.

It’s 1:00 AM now. We’re still in the air. Will there even be baggage handlers when we arrive?

I so want to go to sleep.

Sunday With The Eagles

I got home from the JDRF Walk bushed beyond belief. Still, the Eagles were playing on TV, and as a good fan I wanted to watch.

When I say “on TV,” in this case I’m talking about on TV somewhere other than Connecticut. In order to see the game, I had to find a place where they were showing the game. I headed to “Eli’s on Whitney.”&#185

Me in a bar is sort of laughable. I don’t have anything against alcohol – I just don’t drink.

I take that back. Two or three times a year I’ll have a Bailey’s, which is closer to chocolate milk than booze.

Eli’s is centered around a large rectangular bar with seating on three sides. On the walls above the bar, and the walls inside the bar, are TVs. On Sundays, every NFL game is shown. The more popular games have multiple sets. ‘Glamor’ games with Cleveland or Kansas City (or both) have just one.

I walked in around 1:15 PM. The bar wasn’t particularly crowded, so I found a spot near one of the TVs showing the Eagles – Oakland game.

There were groups of people watching together, but I stood off to the side, against a wall, by myself. The only person I knew, at the bar with a date, was watching a different game.

I ordered a Diet Pepsi and some fried mozzarella. I also told the waitress, though I’d be drinking soda, I’d be tipping like I was drinking alcohol. I didn’t want her to spend the afternoon thinking I as a low value customer (which, to her bosses, I was).

The day started very poorly for the Eagles. On the opening kickoff, kicker David Akers fell to the field, writhing in pain. There was a penalty, and amazingly, Akers tried again… only to fall down in pain again. Another penalty. A scrub came in to make a very short kickoff on the third attempt.

All day long that would be a major advantage for Oakland.

The Raiders scored first, then the Eagles. With Akers unavailable, Mark Simoneau came in and missed the point after. The score was 7-6.

Donovan McNabb, the favorite quarterback of nearly everyone but Rush Limbaugh, seemed out-of sorts. Passes went too far… or too short. There were lots of passes which could easily be labeled, “intended for the security guard.”

Oakland’s Warren Sapp dropped one sure interception of a McNabb pass and caught another.

Though the score remained close, the Eagles were going nowhere. Luckily, as bad a day as the Eagles were having, they were playing a team whose entire season will be worse!

Let me cut to the chase. The Eagles went ahead. Then, as time ran down, Oakland tied the score. The Eagles got the ball back with 2:15 to go, moved most of the length of the field, ending up on the 5 yard line with :12 remaining.

Unbelievably, David Akers limped out onto the field. His short field goal attempt was good!

As the ball left his foot, he fell to the ground, again in pain. Close-up shots showed he was crying.

Yes, it was great that the Eagles won, but even better was what David Akers showed. He’s a long standing pro with nothing to prove. But, when called upon, he showed he had heart.

I would guess it’s any sports player’s fantasy to make the big play that wins the game. To do that under the duress of acute physical pain only makes the final victory sweeter.

Actually, I’m just guessing. I was never on anything more athletic than the math team.

&#185 If you’re reading this from somewhere other than Connecticut, you should know Eli Whitney invented the Cotton Gin and had the world’s first assembly line right in New Haven. Sure, “Eli’s on Whitney” is located in the next town north, but it’s the thought that counts.