Welcome back to the world of Tim. It’s not that exciting. Well, maybe it is. I guess if you get out much, my life is a pretty good one through which to live vicariously. So, for all you homebodies, I am going to try to share some nuggets from my world. Maybe it will brighten your days. Maybe it will piss you off. I am quite certain that both are possible if you simply apply yourself.
Some words to catch you up: A lot has happened since I last wrote in June. I took a quick trip up to Milwaukee. Wes Sanderson and I drove a U-Haul to Milwaukee to deliver Tyler’s furniture and stuff. He moved there in September I believe. I don’t remember the exact dates. It was a cool trip. We went to a Brewer’s game. We also went to a few microbreweries. We traveled down to Chicago. We circled Wrigley Field several time but never went into the game. We couldn’t find tickets cheap enough for Wes, not that Wes is cheap (in case he is reading this). I think it became a dual for him. We also attended the Wisconsin State Fair. That was cool. We ate fried cheese curds and cream puffs. I had a great bratwurst. It was a really cool trip. For those of you who are into pop-culture, we met Perez Hilton. He is this fat gay guy who does gossip stuff. It was pretty funny. Tyler recognized him. I think Tyler has a crush on him. I will clarify that this is a joke. You guys haven’t heard my warped humor in a while. For future reference, I won’t always explain my statements. Buckle up!
Fast Forward: I went skiing at Copper Mountain, CO with the Pohly’s. Prepare yourself for the next statement. WE DROVE. Now you may be wondering what would possess a man to drive 23 hours with a family that has 7 kids (making a total of 9 family members for those slow in math). The answer: Words can express it, just not words that are PG. Speaking of PG, boy do those Pohly’s cuss. This was yet another joke. The Pohly’s don’t even know how to spell cuss words. Well, some of them don’t. That Lori is trouble. Back to the story, we drove to Colorado.
Traveling with the Pohly’s was actually great. We had an awesome time. We laughed a lot. We did some raw skiing too. It was amazing. We had great snow. Of course, I was the best skier on the slopes. Take my word for that. The skiing was great. We also had a joke develop out of the trip. “What did one Pentecostal say to the other? He doesn’t know. There wasn’t an interpreter.” It was great in the moment, remember – 24-hour trip.
Grandpa Jack is always a highlight at the Pohly family events. Grandpa Jack added the essence of himself to each moment. For instance, where else can you have breakfast cooked and served by a grown man in his underwear? It was precious.
In February, I went skiing with da’ guys. Da’ guys were Sutton, Ron (aka Marcel), Brad Jones, Steve, Larry, and I. We skied The Canyons near Park City. Great Snow! We had a blast. It’s always a hoot with those guys. I laughed more on that trip than I have in a while. One of the funniest, yet corniest, was when Ron ordered half a bison. Had to be there.
Of course we made the annual Rodizio’s visit. It is a cool restaurant in downtown Salt Lake. I am disappointed to say that they didn’t have chicken hearts. Though, I am not as disappointed as Sutton. He ate 47 chicken hearts last year. He and Evan usually compete. Sutton is the reigning champion right now.
I have been flying for years. I have flown many, many miles in my lifetime. You would think that I have this stuff down by now. Well, I proved myself to be fallible in this area.
I flew out of Atlanta on a rewards ticket. They couldn’t get me one out of Huntsville or nearby. So Wednesday, Feb. 13th, I drove to Atlanta. I met up with Jason and Jake Pohly. We did the Waffle house thing. We met Connie there.
Connie served us. She was a sweet, unkempt, scattered older lady. She was agreeing with us that the new menus were confusing. We seemed to master them with greater ease in two minutes than she had with obviously more time than we. It was funny to watch her. She scooted about in a haphazard and lightly motivated way. For some reason, Connie lodged herself deep into my heart. I can’t help that sometimes. Almost immediately I found myself threading a biography from the few morsels that I gleaned from her demeanor and discourse.
Jason and I dropped Jake off at his apartment. We then headed back to Jason’s. I crashed on the couch. I didn’t sleep too well, not because of the couch. The couch was nice. It was from the 2 lbs of grease that I had just ingested at the Cholesterol Café.
Jason took me to the airport the next morning around 5:45am. We got there in good time. I had about 15 minutes when I cleared security (which virtually requires undressing these days). So, I picked up my pace. I took the tram to terminal “B.” As I was walking down terminal “B,” I noticed my ticket said 34C. Now this will be important later. I now have 10 minutes before my flight takes off. I turn and run, brief case & back pack in tow and a jacket & scarf on. I hoof it back down the escalator of Terminal “B.” The tram is not there; and I have no time to wait. I look a sign that states “1000 yards between terminals.” I take off. I run the distance. I run up the escalator at terminal “C.” I run to the gate area. I glanced back down at my ticket. I realize that I am an idiot. It was seat 34C, gate B36. I now have 5 minutes until my flight takes off, and I am in the wrong terminal. I run back to the escalator of Terminal “C.” The tram is not there, of course. I run the 1000 yards and back up the escalator at terminal “B.” I now have to run to the end of “B.” It is about 1000 yards as well. I get about 100 yards from my flight that leaves in seconds. It must have been obvious where I was going by the panicked look on my face. A delta worker shouted out, “You’re gonna make it,” like I was fighting a disease or something. I might have looked like I was. Well, I made it, barely. I was that guy. You know, the one the whole planeload of people was waiting on. I was sweating like a moose. I am sure the guy sitting next to me was thrilled about that. Oh but wait, it gets better.
Remember me, the veteran flyer? My flight from Salt Lake back to Atlanta left at 12:40am. That is in the early morning for you time-challenged folks. Ron, Sutton, and Larry dropped us off at the airport after dinner. Brad’s flight didn’t leave until 5:45am. After Brad and I talked a while and after I realized that Brad was about to go permanently cross-eyed, I went to my gate. My flight was the only flight going out that late, or early depending upon your view of it.
I got to my gate. I checked in. I sat down. I woke up. It was dark. No one was around. I looked at my watch. It was 1:00am. I began to move around quickly and glare at the Departures sign as if it would change the situation. Guess what? It didn’t. I had slept through my flight boarding and taking off. You guessed it. No one woke me up either. I had effectively missed my flight. I was a bit mad at myself. I knew that one day I would be writing about this and laughing. That day hasn’t come yet. I spent the night in the terminal of an airport alone.
I called Delta many times. To shorten the story a bit, I didn’t have success getting a flight over the phone due to 45 minute holds etc… I finally resorted to showing up at the next flight to Atlanta around 5:00am. I flew standby because some poor sap had an expired driver’s license and couldn’t go. I got back to Atlanta about 6 hours late. Jason picked me up. We ate at Mary Mac’s downtown.
Keep in touch with me. A lot has happened. New adventures are on the horizon. I will be in France and Israel in March. I also just got accepted into the Army as an Officer Chaplain.
Your friend, your servant,
Tim
Some words to catch you up: A lot has happened since I last wrote in June. I took a quick trip up to Milwaukee. Wes Sanderson and I drove a U-Haul to Milwaukee to deliver Tyler’s furniture and stuff. He moved there in September I believe. I don’t remember the exact dates. It was a cool trip. We went to a Brewer’s game. We also went to a few microbreweries. We traveled down to Chicago. We circled Wrigley Field several time but never went into the game. We couldn’t find tickets cheap enough for Wes, not that Wes is cheap (in case he is reading this). I think it became a dual for him. We also attended the Wisconsin State Fair. That was cool. We ate fried cheese curds and cream puffs. I had a great bratwurst. It was a really cool trip. For those of you who are into pop-culture, we met Perez Hilton. He is this fat gay guy who does gossip stuff. It was pretty funny. Tyler recognized him. I think Tyler has a crush on him. I will clarify that this is a joke. You guys haven’t heard my warped humor in a while. For future reference, I won’t always explain my statements. Buckle up!
Fast Forward: I went skiing at Copper Mountain, CO with the Pohly’s. Prepare yourself for the next statement. WE DROVE. Now you may be wondering what would possess a man to drive 23 hours with a family that has 7 kids (making a total of 9 family members for those slow in math). The answer: Words can express it, just not words that are PG. Speaking of PG, boy do those Pohly’s cuss. This was yet another joke. The Pohly’s don’t even know how to spell cuss words. Well, some of them don’t. That Lori is trouble. Back to the story, we drove to Colorado.
Traveling with the Pohly’s was actually great. We had an awesome time. We laughed a lot. We did some raw skiing too. It was amazing. We had great snow. Of course, I was the best skier on the slopes. Take my word for that. The skiing was great. We also had a joke develop out of the trip. “What did one Pentecostal say to the other? He doesn’t know. There wasn’t an interpreter.” It was great in the moment, remember – 24-hour trip.
Grandpa Jack is always a highlight at the Pohly family events. Grandpa Jack added the essence of himself to each moment. For instance, where else can you have breakfast cooked and served by a grown man in his underwear? It was precious.
In February, I went skiing with da’ guys. Da’ guys were Sutton, Ron (aka Marcel), Brad Jones, Steve, Larry, and I. We skied The Canyons near Park City. Great Snow! We had a blast. It’s always a hoot with those guys. I laughed more on that trip than I have in a while. One of the funniest, yet corniest, was when Ron ordered half a bison. Had to be there.
Of course we made the annual Rodizio’s visit. It is a cool restaurant in downtown Salt Lake. I am disappointed to say that they didn’t have chicken hearts. Though, I am not as disappointed as Sutton. He ate 47 chicken hearts last year. He and Evan usually compete. Sutton is the reigning champion right now.
I have been flying for years. I have flown many, many miles in my lifetime. You would think that I have this stuff down by now. Well, I proved myself to be fallible in this area.
I flew out of Atlanta on a rewards ticket. They couldn’t get me one out of Huntsville or nearby. So Wednesday, Feb. 13th, I drove to Atlanta. I met up with Jason and Jake Pohly. We did the Waffle house thing. We met Connie there.
Connie served us. She was a sweet, unkempt, scattered older lady. She was agreeing with us that the new menus were confusing. We seemed to master them with greater ease in two minutes than she had with obviously more time than we. It was funny to watch her. She scooted about in a haphazard and lightly motivated way. For some reason, Connie lodged herself deep into my heart. I can’t help that sometimes. Almost immediately I found myself threading a biography from the few morsels that I gleaned from her demeanor and discourse.
Jason and I dropped Jake off at his apartment. We then headed back to Jason’s. I crashed on the couch. I didn’t sleep too well, not because of the couch. The couch was nice. It was from the 2 lbs of grease that I had just ingested at the Cholesterol Café.
Jason took me to the airport the next morning around 5:45am. We got there in good time. I had about 15 minutes when I cleared security (which virtually requires undressing these days). So, I picked up my pace. I took the tram to terminal “B.” As I was walking down terminal “B,” I noticed my ticket said 34C. Now this will be important later. I now have 10 minutes before my flight takes off. I turn and run, brief case & back pack in tow and a jacket & scarf on. I hoof it back down the escalator of Terminal “B.” The tram is not there; and I have no time to wait. I look a sign that states “1000 yards between terminals.” I take off. I run the distance. I run up the escalator at terminal “C.” I run to the gate area. I glanced back down at my ticket. I realize that I am an idiot. It was seat 34C, gate B36. I now have 5 minutes until my flight takes off, and I am in the wrong terminal. I run back to the escalator of Terminal “C.” The tram is not there, of course. I run the 1000 yards and back up the escalator at terminal “B.” I now have to run to the end of “B.” It is about 1000 yards as well. I get about 100 yards from my flight that leaves in seconds. It must have been obvious where I was going by the panicked look on my face. A delta worker shouted out, “You’re gonna make it,” like I was fighting a disease or something. I might have looked like I was. Well, I made it, barely. I was that guy. You know, the one the whole planeload of people was waiting on. I was sweating like a moose. I am sure the guy sitting next to me was thrilled about that. Oh but wait, it gets better.
Remember me, the veteran flyer? My flight from Salt Lake back to Atlanta left at 12:40am. That is in the early morning for you time-challenged folks. Ron, Sutton, and Larry dropped us off at the airport after dinner. Brad’s flight didn’t leave until 5:45am. After Brad and I talked a while and after I realized that Brad was about to go permanently cross-eyed, I went to my gate. My flight was the only flight going out that late, or early depending upon your view of it.
I got to my gate. I checked in. I sat down. I woke up. It was dark. No one was around. I looked at my watch. It was 1:00am. I began to move around quickly and glare at the Departures sign as if it would change the situation. Guess what? It didn’t. I had slept through my flight boarding and taking off. You guessed it. No one woke me up either. I had effectively missed my flight. I was a bit mad at myself. I knew that one day I would be writing about this and laughing. That day hasn’t come yet. I spent the night in the terminal of an airport alone.
I called Delta many times. To shorten the story a bit, I didn’t have success getting a flight over the phone due to 45 minute holds etc… I finally resorted to showing up at the next flight to Atlanta around 5:00am. I flew standby because some poor sap had an expired driver’s license and couldn’t go. I got back to Atlanta about 6 hours late. Jason picked me up. We ate at Mary Mac’s downtown.
Keep in touch with me. A lot has happened. New adventures are on the horizon. I will be in France and Israel in March. I also just got accepted into the Army as an Officer Chaplain.
Your friend, your servant,
Tim
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