February 4, 2014

Flying to St. Louis through Chicago today and then on to Columbia Missouri – The University of Missouri School of Journalism, the site of the judging of the 71^st annual POYi.

Slight hitch.

There’s a snowstorm enveloping the country and it’s already begun to wreak havoc with the arrivals of the 18 judges, well…at least with my arrival.

United, Madison WI to Chicago, O'Hare.

Waiting in Chicago O’Hare, concourse C, the water was shut down for some unexplained reason, so I ventured off from the gate to find an open Starbucks. I instead discovered a wine bar on my way and thought that a nice glass of Chardonnay sounded better than another bad cup of coffee.  I sat down and without looking at the wine list, ordered a Russian River Chardonnay.  It was really quite nice… crisp and dry with a fruity aftertaste. It is, though, only mid-afternoon, and it was a special treat, so one glass and I was done.  The bar tender handed me the charge slip to sign and returned my card. The balance read $19.30. I considered that for a minute.  I don’t think I’ve ever had one glass of wine for $19.30 and if I have, I don’t remember it. I hesitated for a minute and then briefly thought that the bartender may have put my bill together with the woman sitting next to me.  We had arrived at the same time and he had acted as though we were together when talking to us and when getting our orders. When he came to retrieve the signed receipt, I momentarily lost all my inhibitions (perhaps the result of drinking a glass of wine worth $19.30) and said, “That’s for one glass of wine, yes?” Realizing immediately that I had done nothing but embarrass myself among snobs…the snobbiest of all – the bar tender. His answer, “yes, Ma’am” (the dreaded Ma’am) “and that’s not even the most expensive.” Somehow, I already knew that.

$19.30 glass of Russian River Chardonnay.

The wine glass chandelier. 

 As I walked back to the gate, I re-checked the flight status board to be certain I was indeed at the right gate.  My flight was now listed as departing from Gate 3, instead of Gate 5, and “delayed” flashed on and off in bright orange. My departure time had changed from 2:43 p.m. to 3:57 p.m.; the result of the massive juggling going on in the skies to get everyone where they are going while Mother Nature wreaks havoc through the Midwest. Late arrival of “equipment” was the reason listed.

I sat down to call Rick, the coordinator of POYi, but before I could find his number in my contact list, my phone rang.  With so many people to gather in one place from all over the county and the world, he was also watching the flights with great interest. He explained that it was snowing there and to prevent everyone from being delayed, 2 other jury members would proceed with the original plan of a rental car and go on to Columbia – the rental that I was supposed to be in.  He went on to say that he didn’t want everyone to be in the same spot as victims of the snow and thought it best for the two of them to press on, leaving me to the regular shuttle between St. Louis and Columbia, for the two-hour drive. There are regular shuttles until 10 p.m. Argh.

Honestly, I hate buses and shuttles and when Rick said I should just get on board, settle in, relax and… I interrupted him and joked (sort of), “Pray?” He chuckled and then seriously went on to assure me that if I didn’t feel comfortable, they could arrange for a hotel in St. Louis and another shuttle booking early in the morning. He said he had learned, after holding this judging in February every year that every contingency had to be considered in order to pull it off. He was used to juggling. I think we’ll see what the snow looks like once I hit St. Louis. I would just like to get to the hotel and climb into bed early.

I already miss Harry.

Even though I had sat him on my lap yesterday to explain that I would be gone for a few days, this morning, he had asked, “Mommy, why are you bringing our luggage downstairs?” I quickly explained again that I was going away for a little while. I’m pretty certain that he doesn’t understand what’s really going on and won’t…until I am not there to pick him up from school and Grandma comes instead.  

Last night as we lay down to sleep, he snuggled up next to me, then one by one, collected his stuffed animals: the “always present” Bear and Baby Bear, Monkey, Santa Monkey (an addition at Christmas from Grandma), The Mouse King (also an addition at Christmas from Miss Margie, his teacher) and George (as in Curious George, for his birthday from his Auntie Laura.) He gathered them together on his chest, hugging them all tight, closed his eyes and drifted easily off to sleep, never loosening his grip on any of them.  I stared at him for a long time – as Mother’s are known to do – watching him breathe, soaking the image of him in, intending it to last in my memory for the long week.

When I picked him up from school yesterday, I told him that I had a surprise for him and asked him to guess what it might be. He quickly said that he couldn’t and demanded in his little voice that I tell him as soon as possible what the surprise was. I told him we were going into the city to get gas and then a surprise.

Car wash exit.

Harry loves to help and insisted that I release him from his car seat so that he could take care of pumping the gas. “It’s too cold for you, Mommy. Why don’t you stay in the car and I’ll get the gas.” I explained to him why a 4-year-old isn’t able to pump gas no matter his interest in taking care of it for his Mommy. When the gas gauge registered full, we climbed back in and headed toward our surprise, the Culver’s next door. Culver’s has the richest, creamiest, frozen custard ever. We were bound on our way to use the two “get a free small cone” passes that Harry’s pediatrician had rewarded us with during his 4-year-old check-up. Although, as I recall, there was nothing of Harry’s behavior during that check-up that warranted rewarding. Let’s just say, he doesn’t like doctors…any doctor! I am convinced that it is a result of the Nurse Ratchet-like figure that gave him his 3-year-old vaccinations. She was evil. And should have never been associated with a practitioner of children’s medicine.

We ordered two “kid-sized” cones, which are larger than you can imagine anything could be and still be described as “kid-sized.” We also got a pint of vanilla custard to take home.  I figured that it couldn’t hurt for Grandma to have a little reward system for good behavior close at hand.  Harry is not easily bribed, however. Something Grandma is certain to learn quickly.

Frozen custard treat.

My flight is delayed…again. 4:17 p.m. departure.  Now, 4:25 p.m. and 5 p.m. It’s going to be a long night.