October 24, 2010
For anyone that hasn't experienced the joys of traveling, you're missing out. Take my trip to Ecuador, for example. I
managed to get a rookie driver for the trip to San Francisco. He seemed nervous. He also had no idea where he was going
despite having a navigation device. The fact that he had to rely on my directions should frighten one and all. I have the
absolute worst sense of direction. In any case, once I got him onto I-101, I was able to turn my mind off again (I have a lot
of practice at that), which was a good thing, since it was 4AM.
The next wrinkle: My luggage was 4 pounds over American Air's weight limit. Could it have been the 30 pounds of gifts I was
lugging around? Nah! Rip open the bag and madly find pull out the heavier stuff. It's always fun to have impatient
passengers watch while you rifle through teddy bears, coloring books, jewelry, underwear....
With this hurdle cleared, next up was my all-time favorite travel event: going through the airport (in)security gauntlet. If
you'll allow for a little editorialization, I think it's safe to say that the inspectors (the intrepid folks at the lovable TSA) and
the victims (that would be you and me) - given an injection of truth serum - would readily admit that the entire process is a
gigantic waste of time. And it is.
Other than squandering millions of man hours and stripping people of any last shred of dignity and privacy, this charade is
a lot like kabuki theater: an elaborate play act amounting to nothing. To rub salt into the wound, I was shuffled (herded?)
through the TSA's new toy, the virtual strip search machine. The 4th Amendment? We don´t need no stinkin' 4th
Amendment! Parade us mere mundanes through. Got a replacement knee, breast augmentation, or colostomy bag? If the
government boobs didn't know about these things before, they do now. Do you feel safer? I don´t. End of rant.
The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful, although I can say that Miami airport kind of sucks. Navigating to the
outlying terminals is a minor odyssey. The luggage folks in Guayaquil are not exactly the picture of efficiency either.
Despite being the only international flight arriving for some time, it took about an hour to get our bags. An hour?
Anyway, I'm here hanging out at the Hampton Inn Downtown for the next few days. If memory serves, tomorrow I see
Bianca, the oldest of my kids. She has promised in letters to be more outgoing than the first trip, and she's intent on
teaching me Spanish and dancing. If there are two things I'm worse at than directions, it's language and dancing. And
maybe singing. Since I recently paid for her to begin English lessons, my hope is that we'll be able to communicate directly
with Spanglish the next time around.
Tuesday I'm scheduled to see three kids from other sponsors, drop off 30 pounds of gifts, and then visit with Ashley and
her family. I think she likes singing and dancing too. I could be in trouble.
I´ll be sure to blog about the adventures, so stay tuned.
For anyone that hasn't experienced the joys of traveling, you're missing out. Take my trip to Ecuador, for example. I
managed to get a rookie driver for the trip to San Francisco. He seemed nervous. He also had no idea where he was going
despite having a navigation device. The fact that he had to rely on my directions should frighten one and all. I have the
absolute worst sense of direction. In any case, once I got him onto I-101, I was able to turn my mind off again (I have a lot
of practice at that), which was a good thing, since it was 4AM.
The next wrinkle: My luggage was 4 pounds over American Air's weight limit. Could it have been the 30 pounds of gifts I was
lugging around? Nah! Rip open the bag and madly find pull out the heavier stuff. It's always fun to have impatient
passengers watch while you rifle through teddy bears, coloring books, jewelry, underwear....
With this hurdle cleared, next up was my all-time favorite travel event: going through the airport (in)security gauntlet. If
you'll allow for a little editorialization, I think it's safe to say that the inspectors (the intrepid folks at the lovable TSA) and
the victims (that would be you and me) - given an injection of truth serum - would readily admit that the entire process is a
gigantic waste of time. And it is.
Other than squandering millions of man hours and stripping people of any last shred of dignity and privacy, this charade is
a lot like kabuki theater: an elaborate play act amounting to nothing. To rub salt into the wound, I was shuffled (herded?)
through the TSA's new toy, the virtual strip search machine. The 4th Amendment? We don´t need no stinkin' 4th
Amendment! Parade us mere mundanes through. Got a replacement knee, breast augmentation, or colostomy bag? If the
government boobs didn't know about these things before, they do now. Do you feel safer? I don´t. End of rant.
The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful, although I can say that Miami airport kind of sucks. Navigating to the
outlying terminals is a minor odyssey. The luggage folks in Guayaquil are not exactly the picture of efficiency either.
Despite being the only international flight arriving for some time, it took about an hour to get our bags. An hour?
Anyway, I'm here hanging out at the Hampton Inn Downtown for the next few days. If memory serves, tomorrow I see
Bianca, the oldest of my kids. She has promised in letters to be more outgoing than the first trip, and she's intent on
teaching me Spanish and dancing. If there are two things I'm worse at than directions, it's language and dancing. And
maybe singing. Since I recently paid for her to begin English lessons, my hope is that we'll be able to communicate directly
with Spanglish the next time around.
Tuesday I'm scheduled to see three kids from other sponsors, drop off 30 pounds of gifts, and then visit with Ashley and
her family. I think she likes singing and dancing too. I could be in trouble.
I´ll be sure to blog about the adventures, so stay tuned.