Preface: I've been so exhausted from this past weekend that I've been writing this entry below sporadically over the past four days. Just thought I'd let you know...so you'll appreciate all the hard word work and effort I put into this piece.
This past weekend, I had my first experience as an attendee at the age-old ritual that is suppose to remind the future groom of all the "fun" he'll cast aside and walk away from once the magical phrase (or curse to the cynics--not me) "I now pronounce you..." is uttered.
Of course, I'm talking about a bachelor party, a party which will be appropriately recapped (with requisite photo and textual censorship) and pondered at a later date this week once I've had more time to digest that experience. I can say at the moment however that in sum, I had a great time there--it was held in Chicago which was considered a good compromise to those of us living on the East Coast (the better half) and those in the West--until Mother Nature decided to pop that fun balloon by extending what was suppose to be a less than 2 hour flight out of Chicago O'Hare back home to LaGuardia here in New York into a 14 hour endeavor that dropped me off finally in stinkin' Newark Airport at approximately 2 am. I don't care what Al Gore or Green Peace or my most recent issue of Mother Jones says--sometimes Mother Nature can be a real bitch!
On one level I am fortunate that I even made it out of Chicago--as tardy a departure as it ended up being--since except for mine and another flight, the remaining 6 or 7 flights to NYC were outright cancelled. Ironically enough, my friend, New York City neighbor, and fellow bachelor party attendee who was most concerned all morning with his flight back home (he was even considering renting a car to drive from Chicago to NYC) went to the airport early, got on a standby flight and was home safe and sound in his apartment on the Upper East Side before dinner. Damn bastard. I, on the other hand, was positively completely unconcerned about the flight and the hellish weather reports coming out of New York City, because it was...rain. Snow, sure. Snow is slick. Snow is icy. Snow is HEAVY. Rain is...wet and sorta slippery. But those Goodyear ads had me convinced that by this point, we'd beaten that slippery attribute of rain once and for all!
Besides, when did a minor thing such as rain result in mass flight cancellations? If you can answer this question, don't. I'm on a roll here with this entry.
Relatedly, the other quality contributing to my nonchalance is my Alaskan upbringing.
I can't speak for my fellow Alaskans (appropriate shout outs here to Clay the Stud of DC, Sam the Punk Rock Scientist, and Dan the Funny Man), but I've flown in and out of the airport in Anchorage, Alaska more times than I can count on my fingers and toes. Not once have I ever had a flight arriving or departing from Anchorage ever delayed or cancelled on account of the "weather." This is the one time I'll allow you to indulge in your stereotypical notions of Alaska: As you can imagine, the weather in Anchorage can get much more hectic than the New York metro region (Day After Tomorrow notwithstanding). So like state geography (everything is "South"), being Alaskan makes one have a slightly different perspective on some things, like the delicate dance between air traveling and mercurial Mother Nature (Whattabitch!). Alaskans always roll our collective eyes at the annual freak out that occurs all over the country after the first snowstorm.
In the end, my flight situation resolved itself. I got home safely, albeit a little later than I originally planned. However, this episode hauntingly reminded me of a remark someone once said to me a long time ago.
"Matt," she said, "You don't ever have a contingency plan. By that I mean you don't make back-up plans. You always just expect things to...work out."
I didn't really have a response then, because she was absolutely right. There are specific events that have happened in my life, frequent and episodic enough, that has (deleteriously?) encouraged and rationalized this behaviorial tendency. And while this is something I am trying to change in my life, this past weekend in Chicago, I reverted back to my previous modus operandi. Yet, I still ultimately made it home safely.
I realized this entry doesn't really have a point. This is what I should have written:
I was in Chicago for my buddy's bachelor party (Congrats Winer! And thanks Mike for hosting us all!). It was totally really insane and we partied pretty well--really great time guys! My flight got delayed and delayed. Really fucking sucked. I hate rain.