8th Grade Trip 2009

I returned from the Goodson Middle School annual 8th grade trip a few days ago. As always, I had a complete blast and came home absolutely exhausted. Our trip started in Washington D.C. then continued to Hershey, Amish Country, and New York City. This year, my trip concluded with a bonus stay in Minneapolis courtesy of Northwest Airlines and their broken airplane.

After five days in four cities and three hotels with seventy-five eighth graders, I was very ready to be home. As you can imagine, I was less than thrilled to learn that I would be spending an extra night in a hotel. Wanting to get at least one step closer to home, I chose to take a later flight to Minneapolis and spend the night there instead of riding it out an additional day in Queens.

Goodness knows that I hold myself to a relatively high standard when it comes to airplane etiquette, but I was past the point of caring when I boarded the plane five hours after my scheduled departure. I fell asleep as soon as I slid into my seat and only woke up to enjoy a cup of cold water and a package of peanuts. To be honest, I really wasn't interested in food or drink at that point in my journey. I'm not sure what prompted me to even wake up long enough to partake of the airplane delicacy, but I did. I do remember struggling to appear as if I was alert enough to be feeding myself. I'm quite sure I failed to pull it off. Certainly, nothing about me was very appealing at the time.

When the plane landed around midnight, I was deep in the throes of a restless night's sleep but managed to make a grand entrance into the airport when I lost my footing on a misplaced rug. Fortunately, my carry-on suitcase provided me enough support to regain my balance. I might have been embarrassed under normal circumstances, but at that point I was too tired to concern myself with the cares of others.

I somehow navigated my way to the ticket desk where I retrieved my hotel and meal vouchers and then stumbled through the airport to the hotel shuttle. My shuttle driver, who had apparently just arrived from the year 1974, was clearly oblivious to my pathetic state of affairs and attempted to carry on a meaningful conversation with me throughout our fifteen minute ride to the hotel. When the front desk called to alert him of a security situation, he informed me that his job also included night time security guard and coffee barista...and from what I gathered in our seemingly endless conversation, "hotel historian".

After a brief stop to pick up my key at the front desk, I headed to my room only to be greeted by the overwhelming stench of body odor. Considering my journey to that point, I did check to see if it was my own. It wasn't. So, I proceeded to engage in some sort of incoherent conversation with myself where I questioned my justification in requesting another room. My high maintenance self won, as it usually does, so I called the clerk at the front desk to notify him of the situation. When I arrived downstairs to claim my new room assignment, he laughed and informed me that maintenance workers had been in my room. Come to find out, guests had complained of the smell all week. Feeling somewhat validated and equally puzzled by the fact that the scent from a human being can linger that long, I made my way to my new room and finally went to bed.

After a restful four hours of sleep, I caught the shuttle back to the airport. I won't go into my whole security line fiasco, but suffice it to say that Homeland Security has likely opened a file on me. Eventually, I found my gate and boarded what I hoped would be an uneventful flight to Colorado Springs.

As luck would have it, I was seated next to a fourteen foot cowboy who was sporting a plaid button-down and a purple bolo tie. Since his shoulders were too broad to fit within the parameters of his own seat, he chose to share mine and I was forced to shift a good portion of my tired self into the aisle. It would be too long and painful to paint an accurate picture of my unusual seating configuration, but know that I considered requesting compensation for the shoulder abuse I sustained throughout the duration of our flight.

One of the many highlights of my trip was when the flight attendant drove her drink cart into my arm and then tactfully informed that I was sitting in the aisle. Apparently, her critical thinking skills failed to alert her to the fact that Cowboy Dan had left me with nowhere else to go. She was also short on solutions when the tall man's cup of coffee found its way into my lap. Fortunately, he was kind enough to offer his spare bandana so I could clean up the mess.

Exhausted,wet, and with minimal fanfare, I finally arrived safely at the Colorado Springs airport. Give me another week and a few shots of whiskey, and I think I would be willing to do it all over again.



B.O.'s new house. "YES WE CAN!"




The FDR Memorial. Apparently, the sound of rushing water really can make you have to go to the bathroom.



SWEET kids!


These girls were obviously overwhelmed by the images of the Great Depression. I really think they got it.



Only an illusion





I could have used these on my trip home!



Putt Putt Golf at Hershey Lodge. I'm not really sure where the kids were at the time.


Like the Israelites before they entered the Promised Land...



Notice the New Year's Ball just above the lights that say "2009". As it turns out, items really are smaller than they appear on TV.




Again...only an illusion


The Seinfeld Restaurant





In front of the bridge where Kevin met the bird lady...