Tag Luggage

Lost Luggage

Michael 10 Comments
The past couple of weeks I’ve had an issue finding something that I wanted to write about. This week was quite different. I just have said to myself, “Self, now that’s blogworthy!” at least a half dozen times. And even though I took a couple of those ideas and fleshed them out to full fledged posts, none of them are what you’re about to read. Umm, assuming you’re going to stick it out here with me and keep on reading.
Sunday afternoon I was hanging around, feet up, relaxing for all the world to see, and catching up on the day’s email, which included a few new posts from the myriad and eclectic selected blogs I follow. Among those was the newest post by Nicole Sundays. If you’ve not read her yet you should go over and see what she has to say. Nicole reminds me of the daughter I never had. Now there’s nothing wrong with the daughter I do have. In fact, I am quite fond of that daughter and I would never trade her in. But…sometime I just don’t understand how that creative, confident, successful young woman got that way from my attempts at child rearing. Fortunately she has. And fortunately I’ll be well (hopefully) taken care of in my old age. Older age. But I digress.
In this week’s post, Nicole tells how she “lost” her luggage and the resumes she carried with her saved her from having to replace a replaceable suitcase. There’s a lot more than that, a lot more, and you need to head over there to read the whole thing (https://nicolesundays.wordpress.com/2017/06/25/i-became-a-security-threat-how-was-your-weekend/) but that one little subplot reminded me of a piece of lost then found luggage. Except it wasn’t “lost” in the way she “lost” hers, it wasn’t my suitcase, and it wasn’t a resume that found it. See how similar a tale this is going to be?
To make a long story longer, let me start at the middle. I had returned from a business trip to Las Vegas. Yes, a business trip. Really. Yes. While I was there, although I always made sure to carry them but never sure why, I handed out no copies of my resume. I did however hand out many business cards. That’s how I remembered that it was a business trip. If it was a pleasure trip clearly I would have carried pleasure cards. Anyway, I had returned a day earlier when I received a phone call from the airline I returned on, one of the more than several that is no longer flying the friendly skies. The call was more confusing than it had to be, especially considering that I hadn’t had any sleep since I returned even though it was the following day because the flight I had returned on was a dreaded red eye and although the day I left was indeed the day earlier, the day I landed was the day after that. Had I gotten any sleep since the time I boarded I might not have have this story to tell.
BaggageClaim
My recollection of the exact call and subsequent events is a bit fuzzy now some 15 years later but it was fuzzy to start so I don’t feel all that bad about it. I received a call saying they were holding my suitcase at lost luggage and would I like to pick it up or have them deliver it either to my home or place of work. I might have been still a bit tired but I was certain I had not lost luggage nor filled out a claim for same. I conveyed this information to the caller and had it confirmed that indeed I had not filed a claim but just the same, they had my suitcase. But I didn’t lose a suitcase, all my suitcases (which totaled one for that trip) made the trek all the way home. Actually, all the way to my office since neither if us actually made it all the way home yet.
Here it gets even fuzzier as the gentleman on the phone who sounded like he had made many similar calls during his (hopefully) brief career as a lost luggage specialist, and sped through some details. Either that or I zoned out on his explanations and sped through them on my own. The gist was that the case had not a luggage tag (which I thought was required), and the claim check tag was rendered unreadable by the security personnel who forced the case open, but within was one of my business cards. Here I wondered if I had unknowingly been cast in a new crime scene drama for prime time TV and if so, would I be paid scale even though I didn’t (and still don’t) have an Actors Equity card.
At this point I really just wanted to get off the phone and see if I pushed the two visitor chairs across from my desk together would they be comfortable enough for a quick midmorning nap. I cut to the chase and asked, just hypothetically, since they got this thing opened, what did they find therein besides yours truly’s card. I expected to hear the litany traveler detritus that we all relegate to checked baggage but instead heard, “a pair of shoes size 11, a white necktie, two paperbacks (I don’t recall the titles if they had been mentioned) (I remember the shoe size because it wasn’t mine), and a money clip.” Apparently it was in the clip’s firm grasp that was my card along with the receipt for a restaurant where someone had lunch the previous afternoon, a folded tourist map of the Las Vegas Strip, and an unused return ticket for an airport shuttle service. None of the itemized contents interested me although I could have used a white tie and I told my caller this. Not about the tie though.
“So, for the record, you’re saying that you don’t want to reclaim your property.”
“No, I’m saying it’s not my property,” probably while stifling a yawn and continued, “but if it makes you feel better, I don’t want reclaim whoever’s property you have there.”
“Very well sir, then” the soon to be though he didn’t know it yet unemployed luggage owner tracker downer said, “have a good day.”
A couple days later I was out shopping and picked up a white tie.

We’re On Vacation, Part 1

Michael 2 Comments

You recall the scene in “City Slickers” where Billy Crystal is being dragged behind a galloping horse holding on to the reins, looking to the camera and shouting, “I’m on vacation!” almost as much to convince himself as to inform the world of his status.  We just got back from ours and although we had a wonderfully restful time, we also occasionally had to convince ourselves that we were indeed on vacation.

We don’t get to take a break often enough and nobody was going to take away from our leisure.  We’ll do a day trip or a weekend, but to take 10 days off for either of us and then to coordinate schedules for both of us is hard.  When we saw we would be able to do it this year we jumped at the chance to do it in a big, relaxing way.  Even so, every now and then we had to voice our mantra, “We’re on vacation.”

Neither of We travels much by plane.  He of We does a business trip every once in a great while; She of We has averaged one roundtrip per year for the last three years.  When it came to packing we were pretty careful to keep our checked bags to one each and thus the checked bag fee equally to one each.  Both of We packed our carry ons quite sparingly.  He of We used his classic pilot case and a smaller shoulder bag with net-book, e-reader, and some snacks. She of We carried a quite attractive leather tote with her reader, a few pieces of jewelry, and a matching purse.  All would easily fit “in the overhead bin or under the seat in front of you” as the gate agents announced several times over.

Unfortunately, not everybody obeyed that travel law.  While we were at the gate we saw many future plane-mates wheeling quite overstuffed, oversized cases that would no more fit into the overhead bins than those wheeling them.  About 5 minutes before boarding began the agents announced to the gate lounge, “We have a full flight today and as the plane fills we will most likely be asking people to check their carry-ons.  If you’d like to save some time you can bring your bag to the podium now and we’ll check it through for you to your final destination at no additional charge.”  Not only were these wheelers with the not so carryable carry ons breaking the carry on law, they were getting paid for it and payment was the equivalent of what it cost us to check our bags when we first walked into the airport.  But that was ok.  “We’re on vacation.” 

When we got to board, which was sometime after the first class passengers, those needing assistance, the gold members, the platinum members, the plutonium members, the friends of the chairmen, the preferred select group, the regular select group, the airline credit card holders, and those travelling with young children, we noticed there were still those with the monster carry ons that wouldn’t fit into the overhead compartments.  We observed one fellow drag his not so mini-suitcase from bin to bin, hoist it to overhead bin level, and attempt to force it into the compartment. Either he didn’t realize that each bin was the same height or he thought his case was losing weight from the jumping jacks it was doing.  “We’re on vacation.”

Eventually the flight attendants gathered up all the oversized carry ons and checked them through to their final destinations (at no additional charge) and we made our way to the runway where we were number three to take off.  Six hours and one airport later we emerged onto a palm treed, sun drenched some 2,000 miles from home.  “We’re on vacation!”

Now, that’s what we think.  Really.  How ‘bout you?