Pros and Cons of Air Travel

I found this post in a drafts folder. So, I wrote it in 2008...sue me. Not sure why I didn't post it when I wrote it (and why didn't I capitalize anything?), but here you go:

In the first three months of 2008, I've been to six different countries, flying out of a city that doesn't offer direct international flights (save Mexico), so I think I can safely give my perspective on the pros and cons of traveling with the masses in the cattle car world of coach air travel.

Pros:
- sunrise and sunset at 30,000 feet, especially when there's a low cloud ceiling.
- a clear day when flying over mountains or the north pole. i've never been to the Alps, but I've seen them from 35,000 feet and they're spectacular. same goes for Greenland and the glaciers.
- there's an odd solitude to flying that I find peaceful. surrounded by strangers, you can live inside your head quite peacefully for a few hours.
- in-seat entertainment (when you can get it) is really pretty awesome. they usually have newish movies and classics to choose from and, if you can get past the wee screen, it magically makes the time fly by.
- ginger ale. i wouldn't know about the deliciousness if it wasn't for the weirdly high ratio of people that order ginger ale on flights. i heard it calms the stomach, so maybe that's why so many people on flights order it. either way, ginger ale, i'm glad i met ya.
- every once in a while, you get sat next to or strike up a conversation with someone at the gate that is memorable. i've met some incredibly interesting people in airports and airplanes.

Cons:
- some people are just plain rude. from pulling on the back of your seat to get up to the ones that can't get off the plane fast enough and will run over everybody in their mad dash, something about air travel brings out the worst in some people.
- the air inside the plane. it's bereft of moisture and sucks it clean out of every pore and mucous membrane.
- swollen ankles, feet and legs. those seats are about as soft as a park bench and if the flight is full, leg maneuverability goes down to about nil.
- trying to figure out whether or not you should try and sleep and then actually trying to sleep. sometimes it's better to get on local time if you don't sleep or sleep at the beginning or the end of the flight. forget comfort, it doesn't exist in coach so good luck trying to go to sleep when your body clock thinks it's 7:00 pm.
- the smells. oh dear god, the smells. i'd be lying if i didn't admit that sometimes it was myself that was intestinally-challenged.
- turbulence. it's really more of an annoyance because it always happens during the drink or meal service and they have to stop serving or you've just gotten a full glass of orange juice.
- full flights. just think about 300 rude, dehydrated, swollen, sleep-deprived, gassy, and juice-stained people stuck in a tube for 8-15 hours at a stretch. yeah, not pretty.

I have a feeling this list is missing a few items, so let's consider this Installment Numero Uno.

Don't You Love it When...

...you get gifted the last batch of homegrown tomatoes? More specifically, Illinois award-winning tomatoes? I'll be making guacamole, salsa and hopefully a batch of tomato sauce I can share with my grandparents. Thanks Paul & Sally!
...you score a goal from just shy of midfield? I even managed a short bit of what's known as dribbling - a concept I just can't perform very well. But I keep trying and when it goes right, it's oh so gratifying.
...the Corn Dog lays her super soft head on your lap? Or when you just look her way and she wags her tail? She loves me, in spite of all of my shortcomings as a dog owner. We're a package deal: Two Chubby Beasts For One Low Price!
...you think the water heater has gone tits up only to find a simple push of the little red reset button fixes all? That lukewarm shower was nerve-wracking - how long since the last heating of the water? how much longer before it's straight up cold? how much will a new water heater cost? can I get one of those cool ones like I'd seen in Hong Kong that instantly heat up just the water you need at the time? i wonder how JP is doing since he moved back to the UK from Hong Kong? where can I get dim sum around here? And so forth. See what I mean? Nerve-wracking.
...you begin cooking a frozen chicken breast at 1 am and finish eating it around 2? And I wonder why I can't get up early. Madness!

Anyone else want a turn? Try it! It's cathartic.

I Remebered to Take Out the Trash

But I forgot to wear deodorant. It's small victories I have to applaud anymore. Things like "I remembered to brush my teeth" are celebrated with solo high fives. It's kinda awkward, but it's something you get used to.

There's this thing that Corn Dog does, well more specifically DOESN'T do, that really makes me insane. I'm pretty sure every other dog in existence knows that when you say "Wanna go outside?", you go to the door and the human let's you out. But not CD. Noooooo. That would be too easy. Cassady went to the door in a flash if he needed to go out, but somehow Corn Dog never picked it up. She'll sit there and look at me and put her paws up and whine and when I ask...she goes to her bed. I'm pretty sure she's about to puddle, but she just lays down.

Meanwhile, my avoidance maneuvers are still firmly in place as well. I've successfully avoided a number of crucial things that I've really needed to do this summer. For instance, a short list might include the following:

• Learn Korean
• Get a job
• Caulk the tub
• Get a job
• Land a Cardinal player
• Get a job
• Perfect my Rock Band guitar technique
• Get a job

So I've got my work cut out for me. If only there was some way to get motivated....OH! I know, maybe it's the part where I have only unemployment income and it barely covers my mortgage. Yep. That should do it.

The thought of getting a quote real job unquote is nauseating. The parts of my last job that made it so amazing to me were things like being able to wear any damn thing, being able to bring my dog in, being able to work from home, living 7 minutes from the office, and not least missed, the chance to travel the world. I'm not optimistic enough to think there's a chance in hell I can replicate that kind of work experience unless I start my own business.

And therein lies the crux. I could do it. I could probably be pretty successful with it. But GODDAMN if it doesn't seem like way more work than I'm willing to put into it! It's a question of growing a pair and having confidence in my abilities. Maybe this is the perfect time. Maybe this is the worst time. One way or another, I have a call at 8:30 tomorrow morning and it's up to me to lay the groundwork for what comes next. I can stick with a situation that reeks of convenience and desperation, or I can cut myself loose and get on with my thing. My own thing.

I've been accused of being a slave to convenience before. When I heard it, I disagreed heartily. That was years ago and many, many choices later, I'm pretty sure that wasn't too far off the mark. I want that to change. And lucky for me, I'm the only one that has that power.

Wish me luck.

I Love the Smell of Pickle Juice in the Morning

Tonight, we play for first place. That's correct - the team that went easily nine months without a single win, is playing for first place for the second session in a row. It's shocking, I know, but I'm trying not to think about it too much - don't want to psych myself out.

Playing soccer reminds me of my youth and my age simultaneously. As a kid that felt like an outsider from really any of the established social groups (limited as they were in parochial school), soccer was the first time I felt like I fit in with something. I'll never forget being in fourth grade when they finally added a girls' soccer team. I signed up immediately even though I'd never been exposed to much soccer. Who knew there were practices that entailed running up and down steep hills and running around in circles as much as kicking the ball around?

We weren't very good then either. Maybe there is a connection....? Nah. But losing wasn't the worst experience to have at that age and it's certainly served me well as an adult player. Every once in a while, I still fall into the trap of taking a game way too seriously and it's a clear reminder that taking things (usually myself) too seriously is no way to go through life, son.

Earlier this year, I played a session of outdoor soccer alongside the year-round indoor variety and I can safely say, I'm not in fourth grade anymore. I had never so acutely noticed every one of my joints as they cried out in pain from walking across a room. And the deep bone bruise on my left shin from a kickin' last April still looks red and angry and causes me to wince if the slightest breeze blows on it.

Some people probably (certainly) think I'm crazed for continuing to play, especially given my propensity to bruising. And sometimes I do get tired of continuous losing and the griping that goes along with it. But winning is a rush. And I really love the girls on my team. And it's a weekly date with my Mom, with whom I've wanted to play since I was in fourth grade. I want to still be playing when I'm 58...and still be having that weekly date with her.

Full Flavor

Apparently, I just can't be "light" and witty anymore. It would probably behoove me to try and rediscover that whole part, but everything seems heavy. I am tired of doing nothing and yet, I still don't want to do anything. Boil it all down and I'm straight up scared.

I ask myself "What's the worst that could happen?" and usually can't come up with anything good enough to legitimately hold myself back from whatever I'm afraid of at that moment. And still I manage to talk myself out of (or into, depending on the situation) taking action. I'd never thought I'd say this, but I need to make some action items for myself and fucking get something done already.

At this time last year, life seemed so promising. This year I'm stuck in a vortex of suck and self-loathing. I miss my dog. I miss intimacy and affection. I miss my paycheck. I miss the excitement of trying new things. I want all of those things back in my life, so why can I not spur myself into doing what needs to be done to attain them again? It makes no sense and I feel like a whiny baby even writing about it. I keep looking for motivation and validation from outside myself, when I know for a fact it can only come from within.

I've wanted a tattoo for a while and lately, I've been thinking I'd get one of my favorite Shakespeare quotes on my arm: To thine own self be true. Tonight I realized it wouldn't do me a damn bit of good to remind myself to be true, when I don't seem to know myself at all. It's gonna be a lonely road to travel unless I can figure it out, eh?

The Dominoes of Change

It was once suggested to me that when one makes a significant change in their life, it can cause a domino effect and other massive and unintended or unforeseen changes are the result. In last week's visit to my therapist, I went on record with my disdain for the theory and the way my life in the past two years has proven it out.

I started seeing this therapist, who I fondly refer to as The Poodle (short for Therapoodle), a few years ago now and the impetus was a pervasive feeling of unhappiness. I didn't want to come home from work but I didn't want to be at work either. When I got home, all of the things I'd wanted to do when I got there would go undone because I just couldn't find the motivation. I was anxious about traveling for work, anxious about wanting to have kids or not, anxious about my future with Surfer Boy. Anxiety and malaise characterized my life and I had that dreaded feeling that my life was slipping away while I sat and watched.

In the course of the ensuing two years, I made decisions. I made hard decisions. Undoubtedly, the hardest was the decision to get a divorce. The vast consequences of that decision have permeated every single aspect of my life. And as the Domino Theory indicates, there have been a rash of additional Extraordinarily Hard Decisions to make. In just the last six months, I've finalized the divorce, I've had to make the odious decision to put my dog to sleep and I've had to decide my course of action in my career. I would say I'm 2 for 3 on those...the first two I feel like I made the right choices. The latter, definitely did NOT make the right choice.

Those are just the big changes. I'm pretty sure the sum of the small changes is far greater in the overall picture, but the big changes - the ones that stand out like a third nipple - those are the ones I keep getting stuck on. I'm partnerless, down a dog and shortly, unemployed. Those are all pretty big, right?

To be perfectly frank, I'm utterly exhausted, emotionally and mentally, at the worst possible time. If I was a celebrity, I could admit myself somewhere for "exhaustion" - I guess I could do it as myself if it wasn't for the impending loss of health insurance. Which also means the impending loss of The Poodle at the worst possible time. I'm now looking at this medium as the poor person's therapy and lord knows I'll have some time on my hands to use it as such. And for now, the goal of venting here will be to rediscover some wit and have some fun with it. I'm a gold-medalist when it comes to venting (it's a sport in the summer Olympics) and if I'm to get any enjoyment from this life, I must vent. Be ye warned.

The Great Big Piney in the Sky

Last week, I had to do the unthinkable. I had to play God. In the aftermath, I'm left with only the hope that I gave Cassady a decent home, a decent amount of love and a decent passing to the Great Big Piney in the sky. Friends assure me that I did, but when it's just me and my thoughts...I have regrets and I wish I could go back and do things differently.

When I start to struggle with those regrets, I'll be able to look back on this entry for posterity. Like I told the vet after the deed was done, Cassady taught me a lot. Not because he didn't have any issues either - it was because of his issues (and mine) that I was able to grow and learn so much about life and love. Here's to the good and the bad of a 14-year relationship with a dog. A great, great dog.

Random things I don't want to forget about Cassady:

• I got Cassady from the Animal Protective Agency on Christmas Eve 1994. I'd gone there every day on my Christmas break from school looking for just the right dog and on day 5, I saw him and his brother as 8-week old pups. When I stuck my hand in the crate, the dog I'd later name Cassady is the one that came and licked my finger. I had to lie on the application that I had permission from my landlord and my Mom came and pretended to be my landlord so they'd let me adopt him.
• I made him wear a collar of bells for the first few months, so I always knew where he was...which usually ended up being in my bedroom, eating my dirty underwear.
• He liked to eat the crotch out of my dirty underwear. This in itself is really disgusting. But what always made it worse, was finding the digested pieces in the yard. Or when he couldn't pass them easily and he'd be squatting around the yard with a clearly visible panty hanging from his bum.
• He also fancied eating the following non-food items: my brother's hockey gloves, Surfer Boy's steering wheel, window screens, doors, dog beds, shoes, electrical cords (that were still plugged in), hats, entire loaves of bread, entire chicken carcases, plates of meat waiting to be served, all manner of plastic things. Those are the highlights.
• He was a natural frisbee dog. Even at 70+ pounds, he'd launch himself three and four feet into the air and twist about, catching that flying disc with flair. I think he loved the attention, as he'd always have people stopping to watch. When he was really tired after about the 50th throw, he'd be trotting back to me and all of a sudden just collapse to the ground, panting with his throat hole as big as it would go.
  
• He didn't mind stopping to poo while holding the frisbee. A hilarious sight if you weren't used to it.
• I named him after Neal Cassady, the driver of the Merry Pranksters' bus according to The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. Cassady narrowly beat out Ahkenaten, a tribute to the dark "eyeliner" around his eyes. I chose Cassady because I wanted him to be a good car dog...I wanted him to go everywhere with me.
• And he did. Cassady visited Illinois, Tennessee, Colorado, Arizona, Utah, California, Oregon and all the states driving to and fro those places. When I had my Jetta, he loved to wedge himself in the back window, so much so that on the drive to Memphis, he was up there the whole time because all the seats in the car were full of people. He didn't mind one bit.
• A wide variety of words were known to him and would make him perk up his ears and tilt his head. Words like: Piney, Jasmine (who was up there waiting for him), outside, hungry, and the mother of them all...Frisbee.
  
• My Mom swears that during the year he lived with her and the family while I was in CO (and living in a pet unfriendly apartment), he'd sit next to her while she was at the computer and make noises like he was talking to her. She always replied "Dawn's coming back, don't you worry".
• Most likely stemming from that yearlong absence, he had terrible separation anxiety. It got really bad there for a while and we had to pretty much re-train him to not freak out when we would start making preparations to go somewhere. I don't think I'll ever be able to leave another dog without saying "I'll be back". Corn Dog has no issues like this, but I say it nonetheless.
• I used to pick up his front paws and make him dance with me. He would look at me like I was full-on nuts, but go along with it anyway.
• After one trip to the Piney a few years ago, he was limping pretty badly. The vet determined he'd torn his ACL. We got him the surgery, but his Frisbee days were over after it.
  
• I made him wear clothes on several occasions. Half of the humor of it came from the look on his face once it was on him.
  
• On a camping trip in Utah, he saw a lizard run into a yucca bush. For the next two days, he refused to remove his head from that bush. On a hike that same trip, he ran off the path and came hobbling over to us with this look that practically screamed HELP ME!! He'd run into a patch of tiny cacti that were literally covering each of his feet.
• He could be entertained for hours in a lake or river by throwing rocks just out of his reach. He loved to swim. He almost got swept down the Colorado River because he wasn't used to swimming in a river with such a robust current and so just kept swimming straight toward the shore and not making any headway.
  
• He walked me when he was on a leash. And I'd always get compliments like "That's a good-looking dog".
  

I guess I'll stop there for now. I have a lot more memories bottled up, but I think I'd prefer a slow release. I don't want to forget anything because all I have now are pictures and memories. Fourteen years' worth.

1994 - 2009