an airport song

Sung to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”…

Screaming Baby, stop that noise!

Can’t you go ingest small toys?

Would it be to much to ask…

That you drop this dreadful task?

Then i could web surf in peace…

And you could shut the fuck up, sleep, or just wander off with your mother to the bathroom and make sure that you are not on the flight sitting within 15 rows of my tired, hungover ass… Don’t make me teach your momma how to play a game of “baby in the airport dumpster”.*

BRAINS... TASTY BRAINS....

BRAINS... TASTY BRAINS....

*yes.  it doesn’t rhyme.  true poetry doesn’t have to…

The Scene:  Airport seating area.  Me?  Laptop plugged into one of the few available electrical outlets – so i can’t move.  Her?  On the fucking phone while her toddler S.C.R.E.A.M.S. bloody murder.  For 15 minutes.  Kid is clawing at her for attention.  Rolling on the floor.  Shoving the stroller around.  Mom calmly yaps on phone.  Brain cells drip slowly from my ears.  One. At. A. Time…

Adventures in Business Travel – Part 725

It was only on July 4th, while knocking back pints in London with bob that i decided to seriously consider purchasing a condominium and moving. A lot has happened in the past two months… most of it good, just a lot of it!

Work responsibilities, of course, have not been placed in a magical suspended animation state so that i can happily pursue all of these life issues, mind you. There has been a bit of stress percolating there as well. 

For the past three Wednesdays, i have been summoned to The Mothership*, preparing a high visibility presentation for an advisory board well above my pay grade.  Beyond the garden variety conference trip, where i drink my weight in coffee during the day and alcohol during the night, this effort has required me to DO things.  Can you believe it?  They expect me to DO something for that paycheck?

WIth the final event scheduled for 8 AM this morning, my team and i needed to fly out yesterday.  The other two members went out mid-day, but worrying about leaving a large dog – with gastric distress – on his own in my new white-carpeted crib, drove me to schedule a later flight.  This gave me time to stop home en route to the airport, and take Mr. P for an additional walk, praying for full colon blow and blessings from the carpet gods…

Continue reading