Hey, what does this button do?

We left Chicago without further incident, although Mr. Oil seems genuinely concerned that I refused the pre-meal champagne, the meal time wine and the post-meal shot of whiskey. In German flight attendant school they are taught that no matter what happens up there, you keep the booze flowing!

While we were flying over the Atlantic ocean, I was served a three course meal that included an excellent bread and cheese (why do the Europeans have all the good cheese?) with fresh fruit appetizer, followed by a flank steak meal with potatoes and steamed vegetables concluding with a fruit tort for dessert. All announcements are made first in German and then in English, which makes sense since Lufthansa is a German airline. After the meal we were all given a hot towel to freshen up with, and of course offered more alcohol to drink. Ah, now that I’m stuffed with excellent food I’m starting to wonder if it really would have been that bad if these guys had won the war.

Now it’s time for me to figure out this remote. At my house I only use the remote controls when no one else is in the room. My wife and kids have no patience with me as I fumble around trying to turn on our TV and usually end up accidentally turning on the AM radio, which is always really loud and being broadcast in Spanish (como estas usted?). This remote is completely overwhelming to me. I start hitting the switches and quickly realize this thing controls the seat (in all directions, including a massage option) and the TV in front of me. It also works the lights overhead and a front light that for whatever reason is aimed directly on the guy next to me.

After about five minutes I get the TV fired-up and in English (but with Mandarin Chinese subtitles that I can't turn off), my dentist seat in comfortable position with the massage set to wave w/heat and decide it is time for a movie. Bonus! These guys have True Grit and I’ve been dying to see this movie. I’m convinced that nothing calms the nerves like a good Western, and this one is great. Two thumbs way up for this gem.

After the movie, I look up and realize I’m the only person not asleep on the plane. Not a good sign. Everyone has turned in for the night and managed to get their seats to fold nearly flat. It takes me a couple of tries, but finally get it pretty close flat. I realized the next morning that my computer bag was preventing the seat from going completing flat (I won’t duplicate that mistake). It’s worth noting that Lufthansa also supplied all of us with earplugs, blindfold along with the full sized pillow and blanket.

As I settled down I realized that the inebriated German passenger on my right side is snoring big time and I was going to need a lot more than earplugs to cover this noise! My OCD is really starting to flare up now. I have got to put an end to this snoring. Thankfully I remember the front light and hit the button. Take that Von Helmet! I scored a direct hit on the first try. The beam of light hit him squarely in his closed eyes (sucks to be him that he wasn’t wearing the Hollywood blindfold). He grunted, mumbled something in German, rolled over and then farted loudly. Well, at least the snoring stopped until I could get some rest.

I slept for maybe three hours until Mr. Oil breezed by my seat with a fresh coat of Brut cologne on. Wow, he must have taken a show in that stuff. An excellent breakfast was served (despite the overwhelming smell of Brut) and we landed in Frankfurt Germany a few minutes early. Now what am I going to do in a German airport for the next six hours?

“Your Plane Is About To Depart Mr. Cleeg”

After the jet-way meltdown I still have about 1.5 hours before my plane leaves for Frankfurt, Germany. I decided this was more than enough time for one last big burger at Chili’s. With college basketball games on and some Chicago style slow service it took about 60 minutes to finish my meal. Now I was really craving ice cream and started working my way towards my gate when I spotted a McDonalds. I got in line, waited about 10 minutes (again what’s with the service in this city?) only to be informed by a snippy McEmployee that they are out they out of ice cream. Her tone of voice suggests that this is entirely my fault. No problem this is a big airport, I’ll find some ice cream somewhere else, you little McJerk.

As I’m strolling towards my assigned gate, I spot some ice cream in a deli and I’m closing in fast, but then I hear “Mr. Jason Cleeg (not a typo) please report to gate B35 immediately.” Come on, I’m going to India for the next month, I need ice cream now! I hesitate for a moment, look at the ice cream, look at the gate, back to the ice cream, and then sadly head for the gate. I get to there about 15 minutes before the scheduled departure and the bald 6’3” male gate agent informs me in a thick German accent (I’m flying on Lufthansa), that I’m the last to board and the plane is “veady” to depart. “Very well.” I say in my best Captain Ramius voice (The Hunt for Red October). “You may proceed.” I thought this was very funny. “Passport and ticket!” Mr. Midnight Oil barks at me. Apparently the Germans frown upon boarding an international flight 15 minutes before it leaves. Seemed plenty early to me.

Once on the plane, the other passengers in business class (who now are finishing off their third glass of champagne) are also not amused. I’ve never flown business class before, how am I supposed to know that in business class the party starts about 45 minutes before the plane leaves. As we pull away from the gate I look up and notice that Mr. Oil is going to be my flight attendant for the next 14 hours. Well, at least now I know what this 80’s Rock-star is doing now after his one-hit-wonder musical career.

Jetway Behaving Badly in Chicago

My journey to India was scheduled as follows: SLC to Chicago, Chicago to Frankfurt, Frankfurt to Hyderabad. The basic plan was to leave SLC at around 11:00 AM (MDT) Sunday and arrive in Hyderabad Tuesday morning at 12:30 AM (IST).

When I arrived in Chicago, the pilot was very please to annouce he had gotten us to the airport 20 minutes early. Little did he know we were in for a front row seat to a jetway melt down.

I don't know if you have ever peaked inside the controls of the jetway, but there are a few buttons and a joy stick looking controller that is used to guide the jetway to the door of the airplane. It looks simple enough, but apparently guiding the jetway to the airplane exit door is not as easy as it appears. Our operator's first attempt failed by more than 2 feet to the right of the exit door! The best part is that each time the jetway is moved there is a constant bell ringing sound to alert everyone that it is moving. No big deal everyone misses once in while.

Attempt number two (which takes 7 minutes to fully execute) is markedly closer, but has indeed missed mark by about 1 foot to the left and the elevations is off by about two inches. More bell ringing, and since the airplane door is open, a good deal of yelling and swearing can be heard outside as the operator argues with her supervisor (in a thick southern accent). Inside the pilots start debating whether they should jump across the gap and take over this #@!% operation! The flight attendant actually snorted with laughter, just before announcing in her most professional voice, "we regret the delay, but we are experiencing some issues with the jetway."

More ringing bells as the jetway is repositioned for attempt number three. There's an even 50/50 split between passengers and crew members who are either cursing or praying with equal intensity. We are all cut-off, when a loud southern female voice hollers, "Well excuse me! I'm doin' the best I can now." More ringing bells. More praying and cursing as the jetway inches toward the plane. Bingo! Welcome to Chicago-O'Hare.

Welcome to my first Blog - I feel so hip and funky just saying that.

The purpose of this blog is to document my adventures in Hyderabad, India over the next 30 days. For those of you unfamiluar with Hyderabad (and you know who you are), Wikipedia has some solid background information to ponder.

Some key points to remember as you read on:
1. This is my first trip out of the United States in my life
2. I haven't been allowed to take a photograph since I got married in 1996
3. I have never let the truth get in the way of a good story.