I'll be somewhere for Christmas

In the grand tradition of Americans everywhere (even the Jewish ones), I find myself traveling for Christmas. The father-in-law's birthday is Christmas, so this will be how it is for the forseeable future.

When you are new on a job, you have no vacation. It doesn't matter that the entire company is empty for a week and a half, from December 18 to New Year's Day. The new people soldier on. This translates to the dreaded "just before the holiday" flight.

Newark airport on a good day is a ridiculous place. On a clear, sunny Tuesday in April with no holiday in sight, you will board the plane a minimum of 35 minutes late. The plane will then sit in line on the runway at least another 30 minutes. This is how life is if you want to leave New Jersey. We've come to accept this as the price we pay for living near cool things.

December 22nd at 8 pm on a rainy Friday, leaving Newark is like trying to flee a dictatorship. Everyone wants to be somewhere else and no one is getting there fast or without some sort of trauma. My general approach to airports is to find a corner and park myself on the floor with my iPod and a book. This time, my corner on the floor was next to a trash can.

I did get good seats for the floor show, though. A young couple and their associate 60-something mother-type ignored all admonitions to remain in the gate area and managed to miss their flight. They were ranting and raving at the poor gate agent (whomever you are Continental airlines gate agent at gate 113 on Dec. 22nd, you were amazing) about how they were "right there" in the bar across the terminal looking at the gate (why didn't you see all the people getting on the plane, then?) and that the plane was still there. They wanted to poor man to delay all these other grouchy Christmas travellers and bring the plane officially back to the gate (the doors were closed) and kick off the newly-happy standby passengers to let them on. Funny, he wouldn't do it.

I did finally get on the plane. My seat mate warrants his own post. I'm happy to be with my loving redneck again. I'll be happier still when someone invents a teleporter.