Travel Tales

I hope you'll pardon me if I pull on my Andy Rooney hat and vent a little about traveling this morning. (And keep in mind, I LOVE to travel.)

We booked our flight to Denver out of Hartford, Conn., because it was cheaper than Manchester, Burlington, Vt. (our favorite airport) or Logan in Boston. Big mistake.

First, the parking was more expensive than we expected reading about the airport online. Next, the baggage handling was bizarre. You put your stuff on the scale like always, check it in and then lug it yourself to the X-ray machine down the way for scanning. Not your carry-on bags, mind you. The stuff headed for the belly of the plane. They aren't set up to do it any other way they politely explained.

Well, we have one large, heavy and awkward bag with camping stuff and when I was done with it I thought I was done with it but no. (Another nice surprise by the way: a $20 charge per bag. Not a second bag, mind you, but anything you stored down below.)

Then the TSA folks confiscated my toothpaste. OK, maybe the tube was a little bigger than they allow, but there were maybe, maybe, three days' worth of paste remaining. I mean, it was going to be one of those squish-the-tube deals to get any more than that.

From there it was my first experience in a "sniffer." I suppose I should have anticipated what was going to happen, but I've got to admit it caught me a bit off guard when I stepped into this phone booth thingie and all of a sudden there was a "pfft" accompanied by a strong puff of air. Next time maybe I'll have lightweight clothes Velcroed together like one of those NBA warmup suits the players can just yank off. I'll have a Superman suit underneath and when the "pfft" comes Clark Kent will be magically transformed into Superman and my outerwear will be pressed up against the sniffer vents. OK, maybe not, but David Blaine could probably pull it off.

So anyway, we then boarded the plane where the three of us (that certain daughter is working at her summer camp) were in different rows. Fortunately, Mrs. Big Green Alert (thanks for that, Tiger Blog) was able to exchange seats with someone in that certain son's row so they could sit together.

Then we got to Denver and picked up our rental. I guess we didn't read the fine print when we booked the car. Turns out they wanted $10 extra per driver. PER DAY! Gee, that's great. Now I have to do all the driving.

But don't get the wrong idea. We're in beautiful Colorado and we'll have a great time. What I will say is I'm not looking forward to the trip back. Unless we go by train.

End rant ;-)