Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Day 1: From Omaha to the NYC

My trip started off pleasantly as my parents drove me to Eppley Airfield in Omaha. After shuffling a few liquids and gels to my checked baggage the nice check-in lady informed me of the first setback. 
Flight Delays were eminent. 
I had worried about this ever since I bought my tickets a couple months back but was hoping for the best as I had a non-stop from Omaha to Newark. But alas, this was not of the airline's doing and instead was the fault of the weather of Newark. Foggy skies in New Jersey had limited the clarity of the skies and cut down on the number of flights that were allowed into the airport. 
The trip begins sitting in the Eppley Lounge listening to a couple figure out how they were ever going to make it to Greece with the flight delay. Oh woe is them. 
I did read the entire Sports Illustrated and half of an ESPN: the Magazine during the delay. Now I can throw them away and lighten the load. When finally boarding I discovered another fun fact: three across planes are made for people 5-foot-10 and shorter. I bumped my head twice before finding my seat near the back. 
To pass time on the flight, I watched Frontline's The Ghosts of Rwanda, as recommended by my friend Jeremy. It was an interesting documentary (which is a word I have found that I have cannot pronounce without questioning myself) about the genocide in Rwanda during the 90s. It was sad and horrific at times, but shed light on perhaps the darkest hour of the world since the Holocaust. Anyone who has seen Hotel Rwanda will know about the story. 
After our plane arrived in Newark, we shuttled up to the terminal. But because our plane was not big enough to hook up, we got a ramp to exit the plane. The other passengers and I followed a carefully painted route marked by yellow lines to another stairway to the terminal. And just in case anyone decided to stray from the painted path, there were no fewer than seven airport personnel standing along the path (which was at most 25 yards). 
Upon communicating with my friend Andrea, with whom I am staying, that I had arrived and plans for getting to her apartment, my phone thought it would be a great time to die. It did. Now we were flying solo. I took an Amtrack train to Penn Central Station in NYC and then hopped on the subway to get to her place. 
One caveat: on the subway map it lists trains by color, but doesn't tell you which one makes stops at certain stations. So I hopped on the Red 3 line. (The 1, 2 and 3 all share the same route until north of Central Park). I needed to get off at the 79th Street exit, but because I had two bags and a backpack on and it was crowded with remnants of rush hour crowd I could not get close enough to the route map to see for sure if it stopped at 79th. It did not. I did see the station I wanted to stop at whiz by through the windows. The subway eventually stopped at 96th. So I changed platforms and hopped on the next subway I saw the opposite direction — the No. 2. I saw the 79th St. Station fly by in the window again. Thus by process of elimination, I jumped on the No. 1 train at the 72nd St. Station and finally made it to my final destination. 
Side note: Andrea and her boyfriend Charlie had departed for the Mets game at 6 so they could make it on time (stupid flight delay) and left their keys at a Deli a block away. The Deli guys were nice and tried to tell me there was $1 million in the envelope. Sadly, there was not. 
The other really great news of the day was I sold the four extra tickets for the NBA Draft for more than $300 total. After purchasing those four tickets for $80 from Ticketmaster, I turned a nice profit and the investment was worth it. 
I dropped off my bags in the apartment and quickly made my way down to the subway to make it out to Shea Stadium. Even though the Mets and Mariners were playing my interest for the game was high. This is because Johan Santana was pitching. Johan might have been my Man Crush for the past few years. But since he got traded to the Mets (Thanks for Carlos Gomez!) the crush has subsided. My goal was to make it in time to watch Johan pitch. Hustle.
After another 30-40 minutes on the subway and 15 minutes walking up steep ramps with no oxygen, I made it to Shea in time for the 6th inning. Johan was still in. I found Andrea, Charlie along with Andrea's roommate Abby and Erik. It should be noted that all four went to Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington and were Mariners fans. 
Even though I was wearing my Minnesota Twins' Santana shirt I felt safe amongst this motley crowd. The game passed quickly and as the Mets tried to rally in the 9th inning the stadium finally woke up. But after Beltran (or maybe Delgado) struck out, the crowd turned quickly on them and booed him off the field. 
Another subway ride home and a late-night sandwich delivery ended the day. As Ice Cube said, It was a good day and hopefully the start of a good trip. 
out 
LJLA

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