On Monday join me in a counting game. Here are the rules: When you are outside, looking outside, driving around, walking, jogging—just somewhere where you interact with the world besides on your computer—count how many SUV’s and minivans you see AND add a second column: how many have only one person in the car?

On my next post, I’ll share my score for this game! Later!

Before I begin, I remind you that today is Monday, May 19th—no matter what day it really is! If you’re not following my logic, I invite you to re-read the last post.

May 19, 2008 

Using frequent flyer points sometimes requires a person to fly from here to there in less than perfect timing, flight connections, etc. Our flight to South Africa is an example of the perils of using mileage points. Although it is not an unusual flight plan, it has a very long layover.

Leader Limo (the absolute best in KC!) picked us up this morning and whisked us to Kansas City International Airport (we will never be in contention for “World’s Busiest”–thank God!) where we boarded our flight to Cincinnati. Did you know that Cincinnati is the home of Graeter’s Ice Cream? Ice cream afficionados know these things, of course! Oprah knows this, too, and has given her seal of approval to Graeter’s!

Because we have several hours to enjoy the Cincinnati Airport (which can be easily enjoyed in less than one hour), we contemplated renting a car to go to the nearest Graeter’s store. We planned to pig out on their divine creations and lug our sated, bloated bodies back to the airport while toting some extra pints of this mother’s milk packed in dry ice! Go ahead and scoff! You haven’t tried Graeter’s, have you?

Bowing to the gods of moderation and judgement, we decided we’d just sit at the airport, do Sudoku puzzles, eat the delicious food always available at airports worldwide, peruse the exciting shops (all together now—Wilson Leather, PGA shop, the book store, Brookstone, the Duty-Free shop, the local souvenir shop, et al), inspect the restrooms, do Sudoku, get bored, wish I had brought my laptop, look at my watch, re-inspect the bathrooms, tape my watch to my forehead so it dangles before my eyes, eliminating the repetitive wrist strain of checking the time every minute, and finally board the flight to Paris.

Tune in tomorrow for my exciting entries in the saga of the Traveling Kings!

Last night we had one of those storms that are part of Kansas lore (think “Wizard of Oz”). I’ve already described it and I’m confident you’ve memorized each and every word of my previous entries!

This morning my wandering mind took me to the Land of Coincidinks (coincidences for you regular folk). I’ve heard that events in life happen in 3’s and this was my 3rd hailstorm in 3 weeks. The first 2 brought such joyful memories and this one came after we laid my dear friend, Richard Stern, to rest.

Richard’s funeral was beautiful and we shared the joy, the gentleness, the bigness, the creativity, the music and photography that was Richard. Right before the Rabbi began the service, we listened to the song, “Here comes the sun”, a joyful reminder to celebrate Richard, to treasure our times together and our memories, and a request to fully live our lives after a “long, cold lonely winter.”

Last night when the storm began, I was grateful that the rains had waited until after the funeral and burial. I didn’t revel in the storm last night—it was something to endure, to get through, and hope that no electrical surge would fry my computer. I was very tired last night—very, very tired—and fell asleep as the storm raged on.

This morning I turned on my TV and searched for the Today Show. I love the times Matt Lauer globe-trots around the world and today was the last of the 2008 5-day series. Much to my dismay, the Today Show had been supplanted by local coverage of last night’s storm. I was shocked to see that 7 tornadoes had touched down in our region and, while no deaths have been reported, storm damage was severe. Closed to feeling and being totally self-absorbed, I channel-surfed, unable to find anything I wanted to watch. Although I’ve lately become a fan of watching the talking heads shout their political views, even that couldn’t soothe me this morning. That damn storm…

The light crept in through my shutters and began to reach my soul. I am truly saddened by what occurred to the homes north of here. I couldn’t imagine how to or where to begin sifting through the mess and moving on…just like I feel about the grieving process with Richard. “Where’s the positive in this hail, God? Were the storms raging Mother Nature’s tears?”

OR—perhaps, “How loving You are to give Richard an opportunity to experience the majesty of nature…from a new and sacred view…and this time his photographic eye is all he needs.”

Hailstorm #2 (see the previous post—I’ll wait…ready?):

Last week a typical spring storm meandered through Kansas City with the usual cast of characters—rain, wind, lightning and thunder. This time we had a surprise guest, hail. The hail loudly announced its arrival at 3:00 AM chastising me for trying to sleep through it. I got up and looked outside. Our deck was covered in white—reminding me of the picnic at the Peak. This time, however, the hail wasn’t accompanied by a gourmet meal; it’s presence gave me a chance to replay the event in Shimla and to delight in my memories.

 Thank you, hail!

…seemed unbelievable then…looks like the “news” shows of today!

Reflecting on our return flight from Delhi to O’Hare on American Airlines, I wanted to write something that helped you understand our experience. In my ongoing effort to accentuate the positive, I came up with: 

American Airlines Supports Olympic Torch Run in Delhi!

Now for the story behind the headline: While we were in India, American Airlines continued their new-found passion for disrupting the lives of people flying with them by canceling myriad flights for “maintenance compliance checks.” Realizing they might have over-reached their goal of creating frustration and chaos, the president of American sent out a blast email assuring passengers (especially, of course, those of us who have a metallic qualifier attached to our name—platinum, gold, etc) the airline promises to improve.

I took comfort in the president’s message and I “assumed” we’d experience a problem-free journey…you know what assume means, don’t you? It makes an ass out of u and me!

 Arriving at Delhi International Airport, we checked in with the expert assistance of Greaves India’s airport service manager. He truly helped us through the maze of searches, xrays, frisks, and long lines (yet another reason I recommend Greaves!!!). When we arrived at the ticket counter, we asked if we had been upgraded to Business Class (we were waitlisted for the privilege of sleeping at less than a 90 degree incline!). The service attendant saw the request upgrade and told us we were already on the list and to ask the gate clerk…our first tiny, itty bitty hiccup…there is NO gate clerk.

Still, I remained hopeful and certainly grateful we had only moments until we boarded the 777 and headed back home. At the stated boarding time, people began to queue up (ahhh—to sound so British or Indian!). Sheep instinct winning out, we joined the queue and waited…and waited…and waited. By boarding time our line had become an interesting contemporary artform snaking its way through the waiting area (where’s a snake charmer to straighten us out when we need one?). Finally, a sari-clad young woman inched out of the “Do NOT enter for Fear of Death or Worse Area” to inform people one by one that there was one teensy weensy little problem—we had no flight crew!

Thursday the Olympic Torch passed through Delhi and the event created a huge traffic jam. Apparently, the well-intended flight crew got caught in the snarl and was unable to yet arrive at the airport. Sounds plausible, doesn’t it? I don’t think so! A Boeing 777 seats anywhere from 301 to 368 people, depending on seat configuration. Interestingly enough, all 301-368 of us managed to arrive at the airport in plenty of time to be at the appointed gate at the appointed boarding time. Somehow, all of us had managed to get to the airport despite the “Olympic Torch” traffic snafu—all of us, that is, expect the flight crew.

Not to fear—the crew did finally appear, harried and disheveled from their trying ordeal about 1 1/2 hours after our scheduled departure time(I can’t resist repeating that none of the passengers experienced their pain!). One more carryon luggage check and body search (can I keep lining up for this?) and we were finally ready to take off—except for one more teensy, weensy, little problem—a malfunctioning fuel pump. After a quick 20 minutes, the pilot informed us that the pump could not be fixed but we really didn’t need it to fly safely from Delhi, India to Chicago, Illinois, a mere 7500 miles nonstop.

The captain apologized for the  2 1/2 hour delay from our scheduled midnight departure (can we say when the big hand is on the 6 and the little hand is on the 2?) citing the Olympic Torch urban legend. Flight attendants picked up on that story and used it to justify their rude manner, irritable voices, and lack of service (or just maybe they were that way already???).

We had flown all over India on wonderful non-US airlines which sported new jets, hospitable crews (they even smiled and looked like they wanted to be of service!), and relatively ontime departures.  This fact led me to relinquish one more piece of the prejudice I seem to carry, that American myth that the US has the biggest, the best, the most advanced, yada, yada yada. In today’s world of air travel, the US air carriers trail in quality, efficiency, and age of aircraft. Only one US airline, Midwest Air, occasionally makes the list of the Top 10 Airlines in the world.   Attendants on many flights I’ve taken act like I should be grateful to have a seat—just shut up and leave them alone! Maintenance of aircraft is a forgotten art (should it ever have been an “art”?), and pride of employment is just too passe. Pass me another round of entitlement, please!

Thus, the Olympic Torch title is not what it’s cracked up to be. I offer some alternatives:

Fly American—Experience New Lows in Service!

American Airlines—Service with a frown!

We Put the Con in Continental!

Delta Airlines—Do We Look Like We Care?

Northwest and Delta Merge—Double Your Trouble!

United—to serve ourselves!

A few people asked me, “Why would you go to India? There’s so much poverty there!” One person I know never wants to travel to places unless they can be assured that they’ll only see what they see in the mirror.

One cannot nor should not ignore the poverty in India or, for that matter, in any country. Do I avoid these places because it’s easier to live in denial? Do I really want to spend my life obsessing over the latest, the newest, the biggest, the best and block out that people all over this planet live far below the poverty line or are dying from hunger and disease? Am I so self-consumed that I’ve lost any semblance of compassion?

What did I do to deserve the life I lead, the home I live in, the education I’ve received, the health care? Nothing! To repeat an earlier post, I just happen to be a member of “The Lucky Sperm Club”. Membership in that club carries very high, yet very satisfying dues—I must give back to the universe what has given so much abundance to me!

One more point (while I’m on a roll): When I travel I try to leave the U.S. in the U.S. What I mean is that I try to set aside what is “normal” according to citizens of our country. I have no right to judge another’s culture according to what I find comfortable. My comfort is about my history, my experiences, and wherever I am “today” is the culture I am to experience. Different doesn’t equal “bad”! Different is just “different!” If I immerse myself in another culture, I know I’ll discover so much more about myself, how I relate to others, to the world than I’m likely to discover in my safe routine back home. 

Last, the travel and tourism industry is one of the largest contributors to many countries’ economies. Traveling to places creates jobs and many properties and companies around the world give back to the society around them, to the people, the infrastructure, the environment. So, my friends, as Martha Stewart might say, “Travel is a good thing…a very, very good thing!”

Yesterday I celebrated my 60th birthday in Udaipur, India, in a most memorable and incredible way: We’re staying at Udaivilas, my favorite resort hotel in the world (not planned by us—this trip is an award trip for our productivity and we had no input on the itinerary!).  we were treated to cocktail with the Prince and Princess of Mewar at their “city palace.” The city palace is about 1 kilometer square and today houses two hotels, a museum as well as the private residence of the former rulers of this area (pre democracy days). Following that, we were led by local Indian trumpeters and drummers up a winding road  strewn with rose petals to the Queen’s courtyard where we dined, watched beautiful Indian dancers accompanied by musicians, and they gave me a big cake! The evening ended with fireworks. Now that was one hell of a 60th! Some people might call this an amazing coincidence; you know what a coincidence is, dont’ you? It’s God performing a miracle wishing to remain anonymous!

It’s 9:10 AM on Friday, April 4th. My clothes are packed (and, yes, I took way too many tops! I justified this packing faux pas by rationalizing that I’d need long sleeved tops and lots of layers when we go to Shimla in the Himilayas), my carryon is filled with my “toys” (iPod, laptop, books, Sudoku, crosswords, other puzzles, Conde Nast Traveler, National Geographic, and my knitting), and I’m sitting here blogging!

 We’ll leave for the airport in 3 hours. From KC we fly to Chicago, change to our international flight, and travel nonstop from Chicago to Delhi. Can we say long, long flight? That’s why I take a plethora of “toys” and, once aboard, I’ll check out the movie schedule to catch up on some “just past prime” shows.

Now, here’s where I need your help: we are flying on American Airlines and have booked Coach seats and then applied mileage points for a possilbe upgrade to Business Class. As of this morning, the “Gods and Goddesses of American” have yet to upgrade our seats. There are 7 Business class seats open and American is hoping to sell them to someone needing a last minute flight to Delhi (or perhaps to someone who craves long haul plane rides???). Should the seats become available, we “might” be awarded an upgrade. I just know that if you all clap your hands and chant aloud, “I believe! I believe!” we will receive the upgrade. This flight is almost 15 hours long so we really need you to clap and chant loud and long (the “Gods and Goddesses of American Airlines” are hearing impaired due to the loud and constant whine of jet engines).

Are you clapping and chanting yet? Do you doubt this will work? Hey, it saved Tinkerbell, didn’t it? 

To: The Official Arbiters of Campaign Attire

Please consider that patriotism is an action and that wearing patriotic colors does NOT imbue a person with patriotism.  A red tie, dress, or sweater will never convince me a person is dominant or powerful nor will wearing blue persuade me to believe a person supports peace, is intelligent, or is trustworthy. In fact, have you noticed that W favors pale blue ties?

Also, the lapel pin flag, the red or white or blue earrings, bracelets, scarves must go—-now! I supppose the pin could stay if candidates openly acknowledge where the pin was manufactured and how that relates to the person’s stance on illegal immigration (perhaps build a wall to prevent those little flag pins from fluttering into the USA), NAFTA, and the unparalled growth of China and India.

Wearing patriotic apparel won’t make me a patriot anymore than standing in a garage will make me a car! However, wearing a spacesuit might make you an astronuat if I help you reserve a seat on Virgin Galactic’s Spaceship2!!!!