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Going Home Again

Thanksgiving has come and gone, and as you’re well aware Tracy and I went back to North Carolina for our inaugural return trip post-move.  It’s funny trying to describe how we felt about going home - undoubtedly, there was a part of that was excited beyond belief at the chance to see family and friends in the flesh instead of through email/phone/blog.  But there was also a bit of nervousness, not knowing how we would respond to being back.  In a lot of ways we’ve already changed greatly since moving a mere four months ago, and the trip down South was a first introspective peek for us to determine whether that change has been all good or if perhaps some of the less desirable aspects of big city living have taken their toll on us.

After landing Tuesday night in Greensboro, it was clear that we were in a very different place than New York - one look around the near empty airport terminal and the handful of people at baggage claim told us that. There was space EVERYWHERE; loads and loads of empty space every which way.  It didn’t take long to get used to the calm of North Carolina, though there were certainly times (like the first night when we tried to ignore the sound of the clock ticking in our bedroom), when we clamored for just a bit more ambient noise.

There would be no lack of noise over the next few days as we spent a lot of quality time with the Millers, Huitsings, Granny and our adorable niece and nephew.  The kids are young enough that they’ve changed substantially in the last four months. Thankfully, they still remember us and we can’t possibly describe the special time we shared with them except to say that they’re probably some of the most precious little kids on the planet.

On Saturday we picked up my parents from the airport as they returned from a week in Maui vacationing and taking in the UNC basketball Heels in the Maui Invitational.  We were able to spend Sunday afternoon with them and my sister to celebrate my birthday and hear stories from the big trip.  As an aside, based on the pictures and tales from the Pacific, I can’t wait to someday visit Hawaii at some point in the future - they highly recommend it.

Before we knew it, Sunday was upon us and it was time to say goodbye.  Surprisingly, Tracy’s cheeks stayed remarkably dry as we said our farewells - I’m thinking it had something to do with the knowledge that we’d be back in less than 30 days.  Our flight home was supposed to leave at 6:20pm from Greensboro, but we were informed early afternoon that a delay was imminent given then rain and additional delays in Newark.  Departure eventually was moved to 9pm, so we finally made our way for PTI a little before 8pm.  And that’s when we began a travel experience unlike any other I’ve ever had.

When we reached the Continental Airline desk at the Greensboro airport the first weird fact was that there was literally no one else in the entire check-in area save for the lone Continental worker, a woman in her 60’s who was apparently instructed on customer service by Oscar the Grouch or a snapping turtle.  When I asked her the updated departure time for our flight she barked back at me, “10:30…WHEELS UP!” When I asked her what that meant, all I got was “10:30” as she turned her back on me.  And “wheels up?”, I asked.  It was then that she whipped around, summoned the biggest sigh she could muster, and replied with a snicker, “Let me go slower so you can understand.”  Blood boiling, I told her that would be great and it would also be great if she could explain things clearly this time.  She proceeded to tell me that she had no earthly idea when our plane would leave - it could be in 20 minutes or 2 hours - but that we better get through security since they were going to close.

Keep in mind that it’s not yet 8pm on the Sunday after Thanksgiving.  Apparently that’s when security closes in the booming Piedmont Triad International airport.

So I went back to the car and we got the bags to check as well as our carry-ons.  My friend the Continental worker printed our bag tags and informed us that if we wanted them to make it on the plane we’d have to take them ourselves to security and get them to take the bags to the plane.  Since this was a little different than protocol, I calmly asked her to clarify, at which point I received nary an additional word - instead, I got a finger pointed to her right at the security line.

Like I said, Oscar the Grouch.

It turns out the TSA workers weren’t much better.  As we walked over to the empty lines (and before we could even say goodbye to Tracy’s parents), one of the TSA employees literally began yelling at us.  IF YOU WANT THOSE BAGS TO GET ON YOUR PLANE YOU BETTER GET THEM TO US RIGHT NOW!

At this point I was convinced we were on Candid Camera.  Alas, there were no cameras to be found.  After I asked the lady why she was yelling, one of her co-workers had the good sense to explain that it had been a long day and that everyone was at their respective wit’s end.  Well, that much was clear.  We made our way uneventfully through security and found the TSA team was much more congenial after a couple minutes of small talk.  Sure enough, as we made our way to our gate, they closed up shop behind us.

Little did we know that our fun was just beginning.  Our 9:00pm departure gradually turned into a 10:15 boarding time.  “WHEELS UP” didn’t occur until after 11:00.  This put us in Newark after midnight.  We took the Airport Express bus back into the city, which is a reliable and easy way to go from Newark but isn’t actually what you’d call an ‘express”.  We didn’t walk into our apartment until 2:30am.

We didn’t even have the energy to unpack our bags or sort through the mail.  No, we just crawled into bed and quickly fell asleep, as the comforting sounds of the city that never sleeps rang aloud down below.

Home sweet home.

Thank you from an old man.

I turned 27 today.

Thank you to everyone who called, emailed, texted, Facebook messaged/wall posted, or sent a card.

With today’s modern technology there’s no shortage of ways to show you care.  But whatever way you choose, it feels good to hear from so many people.

I don’t feel older, but it’s weird to say I’m 27.  Not exactly a boy anymore, even if I can’t grow a full beard.

We celebrated with a birthday cake on Friday night here in Greensboro - as you can see, my nephew Jacob helped to blow out the candles.

Thanks again, it was a great day!

Life in the Real World

It’s two days before Thanksgiving and we’re sitting in the Newark airport ready to board a plane destined for our hometown of Greensboro. 

I’m sure most of us will be a little more cognizant this week of things we’re thankful for.  I’ll be grateful for trees and open spaces and family and friendly faces.  But I’ll also be thankful for our life in New York.  For the new friends, new challenges, our new life. 

I’m sure I’ll enjoy a little extra personal space while down south (a Honda accord will feel monstrous compared to a crammed subway car). And yet I’m very aware that I’ll miss the crowds and masses which seem to go hand in hand with the city.

You see, in New York you are totally immersed in the world at all times.  There’s no escaping to a secluded car for a long solo ride on the highway.  It’s just you and the real world - good bad and plain ugly.

This real world can be quite exhilirating when it means hearing the finest voices in the world or dining on some of the world’s greatest culinary delights.  It’s not so inviting when it’s dressed up in raggedy clothes begging for spare change at the top of the subway stairs. 

I’ll be the first to admit that all too often I choose to define my own reality as the pretty version which makes me happy, far too eager to dismiss the plight of the marginalized and less fortunate or to conjure up stories of personal irresponsibility which make it easier to turn the other way.

I’m not proud to say this.  I’m just being honest.

But over the last four months, living in the midst of the dense melting pot of success and need which is New York, I’ve found it harder and harder to turn away.  And I think that’s a very good thing.

Yet I don’t think it’s enough just to realize how thankful I am to have a roof over my head, a job I love to put food on the table, families who love us unconditionally.  I’m more aware than ever that we are also called to allow this thankfulness to manifest itself in actions.  Tracy and I made a first step towards this goal last weekend by helping to pack Boxes of Love - large boxes of food and drink which will be distributed to thousands of indigent families in New York for Thanksgiving.  It turns out that we weren’t the only ones feeling the call to reach out others, as more than 300 other volunteers showed up for a project which needed only 75.  So we only ended up packing boxes for about half an hour (after more than an hour waiting in the freezing cold!) 

It was only half an hour.  But it was a start.

I write this not to put us up on a pedestal or to guilt trip you into giving a dollar to the next homeless guy you see.  I write instead because I know that deep down I need to read this more than anyone else.   I hope its an encouragement to you (as it is to me) to think about the world we live in during this Thanksgiving week - not the made-up world we like to immerse ourselves when needing to feel warm and fuzzy, but the real world - good, bad and plain ugly.

Fantasy Football Update

I admit it - I love fantasy football.  I’m in three different leagues this year, with varied levels of success in each one.  But this weekend was a rough one, as I ran squarely into a Tony Romo/TO combination in one league and the top rated player in the other.  By the end of Indy-Chargers last night I was looking at an 0-2 weekend and a mediocre showing in my other (salary cap) league.

But then I got this email this morning from Robert Whitehill who’s in the league with all my old roommates from college:

“For anyone looking for something to keep them entertained with all of the lopsided match-ups this week, I have a remake of Major League 3: Back to the Minors taking place in the Shrimp Shack [name of Rob’s team] this week.   For those of you have not had the pleasure of seeing this masterpiece, the Twins are beaten by their AAA franchise.  I think it was up for an Oscar for Best Movie Ever but lost out to The Highlander.  Right now my bench is leading my starters 76.3 to 68.6…without a QB.  Seriously this will be the most intense MNF game of the season for me with Santana Moss still to play.  Will he get the points the starters need or will the bench hold on for the victory and cause me hand my computer over the the dogs for a chew toy and quit FF forever?  Either way, it should be interesting. “

So yeah, that’s why I play fantasy football - for emails like that.  I feel your pain, Rob - like you said, misery loves company.