Louisville Hugger

I wouldn't call myself a frequent flyer, but I've flown twice in the last month, including one trip with a layover on both ends, so that means I've tried to board a plane six times in the last four weeks.

And each time has been shitty.

I won't bore you with the details of getting out of LaGuardia on Friday, but I will tell you about the two hours I spent at the bar next to the gate from which my delayed flight would eventually leave last Friday:

Ohio State Guy

When I first got to the Northwest Airlines terminal, I saw a dude about my age sporting an Ohio State T-shirt. And after about two hours of dealing with Sally at the NWA desk, then a U.S. Airways clerk, then Sally again, then Delta, then Sally a third freaking time, then finally Delta, I made my way to the terminal, found a nearby bar where I figured I'd grab a sandwich and a beer, and sat down next to the same OSU guy.

He turned out to be a good dude, and told me about a gathering he arranged years ago on college football Saturdays. The plan is to hit Blondie's on the Upper West Side to watch OSU-Penn State this Saturday.

Very Cincinnati

I don't think I told you, but the plan was to get to Louisville Friday night, but the above NWA-USAir-Delta fiasco made me so desperate that I urged Sally just to get me to Cincinnati, where I'd rent a car and drive the final 100 miles.

Anyway, I'm a little buzzed at this point, waiting to board the plane, when I heard a gal my age bark into her cell phone that her girlfriend was going to drive up from Louisville to pick her up in Cincinnati.

I made some sort of eye contact and mixed in a jaw drop, and she picked up right away that I needed a ride. She offered one and said it would be OK. Problem solved.

Until we got to Cincinnati, of course.

I caught up with the gal when we got off the plane, or, disembarked, of course, and we started a friendly chat. Five minutes later, we're at the baggage claim and she's talking to her girlfriend, who's pulling up to the airport. The girl asks her friend if it's cool if they give some stranger a ride, and the friend wasn't nearly as flexible as her New York visitor. Next thing I know, my fellow passenger gave me a simple and unsympathetic "We can't do it. See ya later," and pranced off before I could say "return to seatback to its upright position."

Oh, and apologies to Tim Bracken. He's an old Cincinnati friend of mine, and I passed him on the way to the baggage claim, and couldn't do a stop-and-chat because I thought I had a driver waiting.

Anyway, that was a very Cincinnati thing to happen to me -- girls flaking out and all. You've heard my rants on the Queen City before. But I can't blame it for this one. New York and Louisville must be held accountable. They will pay. Oh yes; they will pay.

So I rented a car and rolled down to Louisville, where I caught up with The Baton. Was good to see her for the first time in three weeks.

Game Day

Saturday was the reason why I was visiting Louisville. UofL football fans had been waiting for this date for two years, wanting revenge for a narrow loss at national powerhouse Miami in 2004.

I woke up on my friend Pat's basement couch to the sweet sounds of chirping birds on a serene, suburban side street on a sunny Saturday morning. Had to fit in all that alliteration because I don't know when the last time was that that happened, and I don't know when it will happen again.

But such a serene setting told me immediately that I was in for a good day.

I caught up with The Baton and her parents at their hotel, trekked with them over to the stadium parking lot and met up with some other friends for a little tailgate action. The Baton, having spent each autumn Saturday the last 10 years or so twirling with the band, was excited to partake in her first football tailgate party. Needless to say, she bounced around from old friend to old friend, enjoying the whole day.

The game turned out not to be as good as people expected. For Louisville fans, the result was perfect, a 31-7 blowout of the visiting team, but as far as the quality of the game went, it certainly was lacking. Miami isn't what it used to be. Either way, I had a great view, down on the sideline with my photographer's credential. I got a fairly mean sunburn. It's now Thursday, and I'm still peeling more than a Scooby Doo prop editor.

Party Time

A few weeks ago, I'd sent out an a-mail, trying to arrange an outing with some old friends on this night. Many were unavailable, but still plenty came out. The Baton's friends were out as well. It was a pretty good time at Felt, at downtown Louisville's 4th Street Live area.

Boring Sunday Recap

I'd planned to pick up a few things at Kroger and Target that I can't get cheaply in New York: granola, toothpaste, batteries, etc. Of course, I packed the toothpaste in my carryon bag and when I went through security, I had them confiscated. Damn terrorists.

As usual, my first flight was delayed. And then once I got to Detroit, my connecting flight was late as well. At least that fact allowed me time to enjoy my first Quizno's sandwich in many months. Remember Quizno's? (Turn your volume up)

So I got into LaGuardia shortly before midnight, and by the time I got in bed it was about 1 a.m., four hours before I needed to wake up.

But I didn't hear the alarm, so instead of getting to work at 6 a.m., I got there at nearly 8. That sucked, but it was worth it. I do miss Louisville, and it was good to get back.