Pre-Ireland

Believe you me, there's an epic blog entry in the 23 hour flight delay I encountered on my way to Dublin last week. But c'mon - heard one travel delay story, heard 'em all. And we really didn't have anything on the volcanic ash-delay victims...ours was a small problem with an engine generator. A fine reason to ground the plane, sure, but it didn't stop me from feeling supremely annoyed about spending an entire day as a "distressed traveller," spending "disruption vouchers" on free crappy airport food, and killing time by comparing fellow passengers' clothing choices from the first to next day. This was an experience better moved on from, than rehashed here in excruciating detail.

Except for the one listening-relevant observation: the guy in the row behind me, traveling with his wife, who wore two stunning-ly bad t-shirts over the course of those 23 hours. The one he wore on the day we were supposed to fly to Dublin featured a stick figure plugging its ears (?) with the caption "Funny how you think I'm listening to you." No...not funny. On the day we actually flew to Dublin, the same guy showed up in a beige t-shirt, sporting this gallant sentence: "SHE SAYS I NEVER LISTEN. OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT."

Does this man wear a different awful t-shirt every day? I'm glad I'll never know.

And why am I sharing this non-story with you? Because it's like he was using the word [listen] in vain, somehow. Or in gratuitous stupidity. And so I took great offense, admittedly partially inspired by frustration with the situation we were in, stuck at O'Hare, distressing out further as the hours crept by. And because travel horror stories inspire an aching compulsion to share the details with whoever will listen. Or something like that.

Next up - actually interesting stuffs about my new radio friends in Ireland. Stay tuned...