David

Troublemaker

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So while boarding in Munich on our way to Barcelona, my dad was pulled aside by a very rule oriented, strict, authoritative (aka German) Lufthansa employee to weigh his bag. Apparently, it was ONE kilo over the limit. Who would have guessed he would be the first to openly disregard local rules in such a caviller manner.

For some reason, my dad than motioned for us to come over. We tried to avoid eye contact, least we befall the same fate, but apparently Dad didn’t know that trick. So we all were sucked into her web of compliance and had to weigh our bags (while a stream of people passed with their giant carry-ons).

We were told, “this isn’t a flight in America. “Next time you should pack less.” Oh, Germans.

The funniest part is that my Dad actually fastidiously weighed his bag prior to leaving, and was certain it was within the guidelines. Of course he was the only one of us to do so. He was told the weight was a safety concern. To which our faces simultaneously conveyed the look of “Huh?”

While I was trying to work my way through the logic, the reason was explained… Apparently at 9 kilos, carry-ons become like anvils when the overhead compartments are opened, flattening passengers like cartoon characters. At least that’s what I was picturing as she explained the clearly very dangerous predicament we narrowly escaped.

Well, we were scolded just a bit more, they checked out bags, and we are on our way to Barcelona! Actually, for some reason Kate’s wasn’t checked. Or even weighed for that matter. But, now she needs to roll hers through the airport while Denny, my dad and I walk arms swinging to baggage claim. I believe she may have gotten the worst deal of all. But I’ll probably pull it for her.

David

We’re off!

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David

MileagePlus

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This post is just a little side story that gave me a good chuckle.

My Dad wanted to make sure his United number is attached to the flight. (This is one of the things we talked about during our aforementioned meeting.) He didn’t have the number with him then, so the next day (Saturday I think) he drove his United card to our house so Kate could add it to the reservation. Kate tried, but United wasn’t having any of it–at which point she started to wonder if the card is still valid.

For starters, it had raised numbers–that doesn’t necessarily mean the card is old, but it is a good sign since most membership cards are printed as cheaply as possible now. Also it wasn’t very many digits. Finally, the logo looked a bit different than we’re used to. When I got home, Kate showed me the card, and we couldn’t help but start to question just how old the card actually is. Our internet hunt began…

We first tried United.com, to see if they had photos of current and previous cards. The site only had current versions, and this definitely wasn’t one of those designs. But we figured there had to be some record of the previous cards somewhere–maybe Wikipedia, maybe The Points Guy, somewhere. And indeed there was.

We discovered an aviation enthusiast who documented every MileagePlus card since 1989–giving us a great history of United’s program and aesthetic evolution. But even on his blog, the card was not to be found (though some of the earlier ones looked pretty close). I thought we had reached a dead-end. That is, until I started to actually read the blog. In one post he describe how bummed he was at loosing his 1988 card, and described it precisely, down to the smallest detail. HIs description was a perfect match. That is, as a match match for the United card my father brought over on Saturday. Let me reiterate… the United card my dad provided was from 1988. Thirty-one years old.

And the condition was pristine.

I compare his card to any card I have, for any purpose, at any age… All of mine look like I scrape ice off my windshield with them on a regular basis. And we don’t have icey windows in North Carolina, so I question what on earth I must do for them to look so pathetic. I have to hand it to my dad–hs does keep things looking nice!

When I texted him that Kate and I had a good chuckle when we discovered the card he gave us was from the Reagan era, his reply was perfect. “My goal,” he said, “is alway to bring a smile to those I love.” Perfect.

David

Oscar and Felix

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My dad arrived for our pre-trip meeting (scheduled at his request) loaded with questions. We began with updates–hearing about what he’s packing, the apps he’s downloaded, the nuances of Lufthansa’s overhead rules (1″ smaller than Delta it turns out), and his precautions against thieves. In addition to the updates, he provided us with some extra ear-plugs, soap and compression socks should we find ourselves in need. Once caught up, he produced a notebook that had been pre-populated with additional notes and questions ranging from airport arrival time to seating arrangements to insurance limitations.

After a series of Q&A to (hopefully) satisfy all of my dad’s uncertainties, and a day-by-day review of our plans, my father-in-law spoke up with his single question. “What day are we leaving?” he asked. Then he wrote the answer down on a scrap of paper he pulled from his pocket.

(insert theme from The Odd Couple)

Kate

Barcelona with a Change of Plans

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OK.  Here’s where our story begins.  I find an amazing price for a flight to Barcelona (one of our favorite cities) that David and I just can’t pass up. So we book the trip. A day later I have an epiphany…. what if we asked our dads to join us! I float the idea past David, taking away his vision of our lovely romantic holiday and plugging in an adventure with our octogenarian dads.  Without hesitation (well, there was a slight hesitation until I assured him the dads would have their own place) he agrees it’s a great idea.  So we ask our dads if they might want to come along.  They both reply quickly that they are definitely IN!  Thank goodness, because this was an all or nothing deal with the two of them.

And I keep thinking, what in the hell does this trip look like now??  David and I are accustomed to criss-crossing cities covering 7-10 miles a day on foot.  We pivot on a moment’s notice.  We hike and meander and walk into questionable spots suggested by locals.  We stop for drinks and snacks all day long.  I mean, all…day…long! Luckily our dads are game to go with the flow and try whatever we throw at them.  So I’ve been booking tours and planning how to fill our days – now more by car than on foot.  We’ve had lots of laughs thinking about what might shake out on this adventure.  We’ve affectionately named them Oscar and Felix because they are so different from one another.  Yet they have been dear, dear friends since David I met some 29 years ago.  In fact, upon getting the invitation, my father-in-law said “tell Denny I can’t wait to drink sangria, eat jamón and watch the pretty ladies go by!”  Of course, this is something they did about 25 years ago when I was back studying in Spain and our families all met up.

I’m not quite sure what we are in for with these two, but I can guarantee we will be laughing non-stop.  Whether it is with them or at them remains to be seen. I’ve made sure they have approval from their doctors, all prescriptions are filled, walking regime in place (for Denny), and they can pack in a carry-on.  So far I have us booked for a tour of The Sagrada Familia, a day trip to Girona, a 4 x 4 and Cava tour, and a cooking class where we make our own paella under the watchful eye of a trained chef who apparently pours lots of sangria and cerveza.  What could possibly go wrong? I’ve never really blogged so I’ll try to keep it brief and entertaining.