Saturday

Since I was flying to Chicago on Sunday, and since this might have very well been the last weekend I had to live, I went to see the one-night only showing of _Don Giovanni_ in Jacksonville. My good friend Olivia was in the production, so it was a good opportunity to see her and get a little culture.

The show was very good. Though I felt the theme was much lighter than _Carmen_, the music wasn't as good. I must admit, I didn't expect Giovanni to literally go to Hell for his misdeeds. But, as Olivia pointed out, once the talking statue shows up, all bets are off.

After the show, Olivia and I hit the bar in the hotel to catch up, and bask in the presence of the "stars" of the show. I probably stuck around longer than I should have, since I did have a 4-hour drive home in front of me, but I had a good time.

I did have to stop to catch a nap in a rest stop on I-75. That's the first time I ever had to stop driving because I was tired. I've driven non-stop to Illinois before, and that's a good 22-hour drive. Maybe I'm getting old. I was amazed at how much the nap helped, though. I probably only got about 15 minutes or so in, but I could have drove another 2 or 3 hours after that.

I got home just in time to crawl into bed before the sun came up. I got a decent amount of sleep before I had to get up to pack.

Sunday
Planes

Sunday morning I woke up and farted around a bit more than I should have. I played some video games, took a long shower, and fiddled around a bit too much before I started packing. Of course, by the time I was done packing, I was getting hungry. Andrea called me around 11 or so (since she was kind enough to give me a ride to the airport, and offer emotional support before the flight), and she came over as I was putting the finishing touches on packing. I tried to travel as light as I could (just one bag), but I always hate that nagging feeling that I was forgetting something, luckily I don't think I did.

As a last meal, we went to the Wing House, for the good wings as well as the, um, atmosphere. Since this was to be my last meal, Andrea was very nice, and didn't say anything about the waitress's attire, or their butts and boobs being all up in her food. The sad part is, I was starting to get nervous about the flight, so I couldn't really enjoy my food, or the boobs and butts about me.

Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Andrea saw me off into the security checkpoint, where I was one of the lucky few chosen to be screened. I had to take off my shoes, get felt up by a guy with a metal detector, and then have my bag searched. What a great way to start my first flight. I chalk it up to racial profiling.

Then the waiting... and waiting... then the boarding... then the waiting... and waiting. I was reminded of riding on a greyhound, only this thing was much bigger... and higher off the ground... and bigger..

Takeoff. It was actually a pretty smooth takeoff, I'm told. Not too much jerking around. Against my better judgment, I looked out the window. Something about seeing the earth below you at a 45-degree angle as you accelerate away is a tad bit unsettling to someone who's afraid of heights. I had to look, though. It’s like seeing a car accident. I couldn't help it.

Once we hit cruising altitude, it was pretty smooth. Being in the aisle, I was able to keep my mind off the fact that I was traveling at over 330 mph about 4 miles in the air in a big metal tube by reading my trusty Weekly World News. Did you know that the CIA might be using cats to spy on us?

The flight was very quick. It didn't dawn on me until afterwards that, it took only 2 hours to fly to Chicago from St. Pete. It took me 4 hours to drive from St. Pete to Jacksonville. Maybe there's something to this flying thing after all.

Landing. Apparently, Midway has a bit of a short runway. The plane came down then we had to break hard. A tad bit unsettling, but not so much, since we were on the ground. I can handle that.

Then, we walked through the airport and made our way to the “L” train.

Trains

I’m awed by the train system in Chicago. It’s a remarkable way to get around: very inexpensive, fast, and convenient. At this point I’m just blown away by the fact that, just a couple of hours ago, I was in the heart of Florida and, if I had been driving, I still would have been in Florida, not 1,500 miles away. I was in a stupor on the train, and my experience was colored by a lot of the descriptions by Mimi Smartypants, including the weird people on the train. Fun, fun, fun.

We reached the Roosevelt station, and departed for Michigan Avenue. Our hotel was just a couple of blocks away, so we walked. It was much colder than it was in Florida, but it wasn’t too terrible. We checked in, I got to my room and unpacked, before meeting my colleague for dinner at “Kitty O’Shea’s”, an Irish restaurant/pub in the Chicago Hilton.

There was a two-man band there playing Irish jigs. I’m always amused by Irish music, because while it sounds so cheery and friendly, the lyrics are usually very depressing, violent, or angry. The food was pretty good, but the atmosphere was what I really liked.

It had already been a long weekend, so I didn’t stay up long before going to bed.

Monday, Tuesday, & Wednesday
Automobiles

The Hyperion User’s Conference was a very nice production. They had busses running from the hotels to the McCormick Center all day for the three days of the conference. John Cleese was the keynote speaker, and his rather humorous monologue centered on the ongoing feud between “Geeks” (IT) and “Bean Counters” (Finance). And also laced within his speech was the valuable business lesson: Making mistakes isn’t bad, repeating mistakes is. The companies that fail are the ones that are intolerant of mistakes, because it breeds a culture where mistakes are feared, so people cover up their mistakes and things don’t get fixed, then as things get worse because the mistakes that haven’t been fixed keep happening, people spend all of their time covering their mistakes instead of working.

The way he described it was much funnier.

I learned quite a few things from the conference, met a couple of very nice people who are, in a manner of speaking, my counterparts at their respective companies, and I ate and drank more than I probably should have. I regret not getting to see more of the city, but I did get to walk down Rush Street, and I also saw the Museum of Science and Industry, as well as the Shedd Aquarium (though I didn’t feel that the Shedd was as nice as the Florida Aquarium in Tampa, but it was ok). I got to see Soldier Field, and I could see the Sears Tower from my hotel room. I was in awe with the city.

Chicago was very windy.

The entire time I was there, I was in complete awe, and I felt overwhelmed. I spent a good portion of my time there trying to figure out why I was feeling this way. Though I’m no great traveler, I’ve traveled enough that the experience shouldn’t have been new to me. I made the journey to Florida, I’ve been to New Orleans, Charleston, and Columbus, just to name a few places. So why was I so emotional? I think it was because, while I was with one of my coworkers, I really felt like I was there alone. All of my experiences with the city were mine and mine alone, I had no one to really share them with. Other times when I’ve traveled, I’ve always had someone to share the experience with, and I often remember those interactions with my friends than I do the city or the places I’ve been. Because I was forced to focus on my experiences with the city, I think it heightened my awareness. That’s the best I can come up with.

I pondered the possibility of living in Chicago someday, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for it yet. Maybe someday I will be, but not now. For one, I’m basking in the buffer zone. While I do miss my family sometimes, I’m not sure I want to be that close to them just yet. :)

The flight back was a little bumpier on the takeoff. I think the pilot just wanted to get airborne fast (possibly because of the winds.. did I mention that Chicago was windy?), so we were jerked around a bit as we ascended. That was a bit unsettling. The flight back was less turbulent, and I even looked out the window a bit as we approached St. Petersburg. Perhaps flying has helped me get over my fear of heights a bit. It felt more like watching a movie, as opposed to actually being that high in the air.

The landing was as bumpy as the takeoff. It was a two-hopper. Not settling, either. But I had plenty of people tell me that those two events (takeoff and landing) were the worst parts, so I was pretty prepared for the whole thing. At least when we did experience turbulence, I wasn’t freaked out, because I was well informed.

I know this was a long one, so I thank you for reading this far. As you can tell, I survived my ordeal, and I’m a little wiser and a little more grown up because of the experience. Maybe I can fly into Chicago for a football game someday…

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