Sadly, all by myself and without Pamela, the dogs, the horse and cats and goats. No RV. I flew up all alone to speak at Crypto-Paracon, a paranormal conference held this Friday and Saturday at the Kennedy Arena in Rome, NY.
Flying was, as I expected, a nightmare. We left in plenty of time, but got caught in a traffic jam near Jacksonville. I still arrived with over an hour until my flight left.
I didn't check anything. I travel light. I carried my camera, a tube of photos, and a duffle bag that weighed about 600 pounds.
After getting my boarding passes the old fashioned way, from a human, I trudged to the security check point.
Remove your shoes, empty your pockets. If you have a laptop, remove it and put it in a separate bin. Remove your belt.
Sir, empty your pockets.
My pockets are empty.
No, you have boarding passes in your back pocket.
Step into the scanner. I did. The door opened and I stepped out.
Sir, step back into the scanner.
I did. The door opened and I stepped out.
Sir, I'm going to have to pat you down. OK. He did, and then said that next time, pull your pants up.
Hey, you told me to remove my belt.
Another security guard was rummaging through my bag. She gleefully produces my boy scout pocket knife that's been in my shaving kit since I was eight years old.
You can't bring this on the plane.
OK fine, toss it. Then she grabs my new can of shaving cream.
You can't have this.
Why? Will I vandalize the plane and passengers with it?
Finally clearing security, I hoist my 600 pound dufflebag, photos, and camera and start my 17 mile trek to gate C10. I got there as they were finishing boarding. I got on with all my crap, stuffed my camera under my seat, the middle one, and then looked for a place for my 600 pound dufflebag. All of the compartments were full. With some difficulty, I made room and stuffed it and my photos in. I sat in the middle seat. I prefer the window seat, but at least I could see out of the window partly. OK, I can do this.
The young man next to me was hung over. His head was on his lap. He reached up, grabbed the shade, shut it, and went to sleep.
Such was the start of my trip. The second leg, from Charlotte to Syracuse, wasn't as bad. I even took the pic up above. But just before I took it, we were passed by another jet less than a quarter mile away. I missed that shot. But no matter. I'm here in Rome. I'm meeting Bill Brann and Brian Gosselin of Whitehall fame today. I speak at Crypto-Paracon Friday and Saturday, down day on Sunday, and fly home on Monday.
I'm checking the 600 pound dufflebag.
Flying was, as I expected, a nightmare. We left in plenty of time, but got caught in a traffic jam near Jacksonville. I still arrived with over an hour until my flight left.
I didn't check anything. I travel light. I carried my camera, a tube of photos, and a duffle bag that weighed about 600 pounds.
After getting my boarding passes the old fashioned way, from a human, I trudged to the security check point.
Remove your shoes, empty your pockets. If you have a laptop, remove it and put it in a separate bin. Remove your belt.
Sir, empty your pockets.
My pockets are empty.
No, you have boarding passes in your back pocket.
Step into the scanner. I did. The door opened and I stepped out.
Sir, step back into the scanner.
I did. The door opened and I stepped out.
Sir, I'm going to have to pat you down. OK. He did, and then said that next time, pull your pants up.
Hey, you told me to remove my belt.
Another security guard was rummaging through my bag. She gleefully produces my boy scout pocket knife that's been in my shaving kit since I was eight years old.
You can't bring this on the plane.
OK fine, toss it. Then she grabs my new can of shaving cream.
You can't have this.
Why? Will I vandalize the plane and passengers with it?
Finally clearing security, I hoist my 600 pound dufflebag, photos, and camera and start my 17 mile trek to gate C10. I got there as they were finishing boarding. I got on with all my crap, stuffed my camera under my seat, the middle one, and then looked for a place for my 600 pound dufflebag. All of the compartments were full. With some difficulty, I made room and stuffed it and my photos in. I sat in the middle seat. I prefer the window seat, but at least I could see out of the window partly. OK, I can do this.
The young man next to me was hung over. His head was on his lap. He reached up, grabbed the shade, shut it, and went to sleep.
Such was the start of my trip. The second leg, from Charlotte to Syracuse, wasn't as bad. I even took the pic up above. But just before I took it, we were passed by another jet less than a quarter mile away. I missed that shot. But no matter. I'm here in Rome. I'm meeting Bill Brann and Brian Gosselin of Whitehall fame today. I speak at Crypto-Paracon Friday and Saturday, down day on Sunday, and fly home on Monday.
I'm checking the 600 pound dufflebag.
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