Where the road leads next

I love flying.

I used to have dreams as a child that I could jump and just keep floating all the way to the top of the house of my youth. The dreams were so real and vivid, I would have to convince myself that jumping out the second floor window would end in a heap. Nonetheless, the feeling of flight has always captivated me.

The closest I was able to get to reality flying as a kid was my nearly daily ritual of jumping off our garage. I can feel and hear every one of those mini test flights getting in and out of chairs today through the creaking and cracking of my knees. Thankfully, they don't hurt, but they sure sound like they should. I think I crushed my nerves sometime back in the 80's.

6 AM Sunday morning I was once again on an airplane, the socially acceptable way to fly, and despite the fiasco that air travel has become in America, I was giddy as a school...boy.

My trip to Chicago also included ridding a train, which was actually kind of a letdown due to construction. At one point during the ride I am sure I witnessed hobo's jumping off and walking. In fact, without warning we reached the "end of the line" and boarded a double length bus for the remainder of the trip.

The bus ride was much more intense, and watching 60 year old bodies flying down the walkways was both hilarious and terrifying. As if it wasn't enough to make it off the bus, I am certain the bus driver intentionally tried to run the people over that made it.

The day concluded with 2 miles of walking the streets of Chicago to the hotel. A long day at McCormick Place for Graph Expo a $45 steak, a few more miles of walking, and a 38 story restless night sleep.

Do you know that spiders build webs 38 stories up on hotel windows? That's what I thought, but apparently the bugs that fly up that high are really really yummy.

Monday morning greeted me with a walk to the lake, which apparently no one in Chicago wants to actually touch, since it is nearly impossible to physically reach it. This place was neat, and a long way to and from the Hyatt Hotel.

More bus rides, a cab ride with a Muslim driver, another cab ride to the correct place with a freshly awakened African, lunch with a friend, and another cab ride with an Indian determined to never stop back to McCormick. $30 dollars was never spent faster, nor had $30 ever ran as many stop signs, or nearly ran over as many pedestrians. Forget Disney Land - ride Chicago. More walking and chatting with lifelong printer friends at the show and a final bus ride back to the hotel. A quick soda at the hotel bar, a solicitation from a Vietnam Veteran reeking of alcohol asking for money for chemotherapy, and finally a last cab driven by a very large very colorful brother from Chicago.

Incidentally, you can't make a ho' into a church woman. 7 inches is pretty big, it is best to keep on gambling when you win, you can't trust women (even the ones you father) and merge lanes are best used at the very last moment right up to the crash barrels. Apparently I look like a 54 year old, and even though I actually fit in the front seat, still a "big guy". I fear I have made a friend for life. I am just really thankful he didn't eat me.

A little striptease at O'Hare for security, 20 minutes of waiting on the tarmac, and finally another fine trip above the clouds and into the arms of my family.

I love flying, but I love landing even more.