As it usually happens the calls come and the road goofs of the world go back to work. It’s Sunday night and I’m sitting at DFW, heading in the wrong direction for SXSW but in the right direction for work. Well, not really. They can’t find our plane and the glorious tradition of telling you one thing on the outside of security and entirely another inside the terminal continues. I should have guessed that even when they said it was on time but the reason for the delay was weather-based I should have known something was up.
If you’ve ever gone through DFW on a Sunday night you know that there are equal parts desperation, apathy and anger on all sides of the experience. I once came in from an international flight late Sunday and found my bags in 3 different baggage claims areas strewn across the crescent-shaped terminal. In some sections the lights were turned off; there appeared to be only one employee working for the world’s largest airline and the baggage handlers either were using a catapult to sort the luggage or had been drinking aviation fuel.
Tonight I went to my designated gate and found all but 3 seats filled with large people with large amounts of bags. They all appeared to be yelling into cell phones or tricoders so I joined them. When the gate agent made her announcement, I came to the conclusion she was speaking through the equivalent of 3 huge Martin drum fills as the volume blew out the speaker in the earpiece of my Nokia. She was either angry, over-caffeinated or upset over the loss of a lottery ticket. We had a flight for Tucson, one for Philly and the mystery flight to Newark all in the same lounge and the temperature was close to 15 degrees hotter than the rest of the gate area. I had to suspend my phone calls as I couldn’t hear what was said, they couldn’t hear what was said and in the end, I wasn’t really sure of what I was saying either.

I escaped to an empty gate area within mad-dashing range to the world’s loudest gate. It is cooler, quieter and not filled with trouble makers. It appears that the flight will now depart an hour and a half later than scheduled which will get me into Jersey around 1:30am… a few hours sleep, off to work at 7:30am and the adventure begins! I’m quite thrilled to be returning to this group and even with the fact that my job description is not fully defined right now doesn’t seem to bother me. Like someone said, it sure is nice to get repeat business, especially for the fragile roadie ego…

Reality update…
It’s nearly 3am; the plane was delayed and according to someone who dug deeper than me, they knew this from about 2pm on. We arrived in Newark about 1:15 am, my ride about a half hour later, the NJ Turnpike looked like the Transilvania Expressway and now a few moments of sleep before work…yup, Sundays are cool, no doubt about it…