I will admit that I turn my phone off airplane mode on approach. I leave the WiFi off, but let my phone seek out and connect with my communications carrier prior to landing. Which means that I am also doing that well before the cabin attendant has announced that “use of small, personal electronic devices to include cell phones is now allowed.”

I started this practice a number of years ago, right after SFO adopted the use of Mobile Passport. Since I was flying into the US regularly from overseas locations, and being too cheap to fund a system that the government should be providing, Mobile Passport proved ideal. But, you can’t load your data to include entry information if you are not connected. WiFi works, or phone carrier network works. Initially, the App always went for Wifi, and if it was turned on and not connected, then you were stuck. So I developed the habit of turning on my phone without the WiFi on approach, loading the data and then being at baggage claim eight minutes after exiting the plane. That is right, eight minutes. Easy, Peasy, no lines. faster at SFO that Global Entry. Faster than the kiosks which were a huge improvement over static lines which took forever (which anyone who entered through US Immigration in Houston or Toronto up until the last couple of years can attest). I can’t say how things are now, since I haven’t been out of the US for almost a year. For that matter, the last time I went any where was last June to DC for the ISTM meeting. I can’t claim attempt to decrease my carbon footprint – family and baseball just have disrupted my schedule along with grad school which wiped out any opportunity at the Spring TA season.

But anyway, turning on my phone  is just habit. Besides, I needed something to read while waiting my opportunity to escape the plane, being seated in row 34/36. (and, just so you know, rows 33 and 35 don’t exist on this particular plane). It was packed to the gills complete with a number of families (small crying and screaming children), a number of travelers who didn’t see to comprehend that ONE carryon doesn’t mean a roller, a duffle bag, a computer bag, a backpack and some shopping bags.

I could partly understand those members of the Chinese tour group, which numbered about 40, having more than a small back pack. But the rest of the passengers? Especially those who were sitting up front and could check luggage? Not so much. My backpack, with a week’s worth of computer, clothing and cross stitch, fit under the seat in front of me, which turned out to be a really good thing. The pilot was cheerful, one cabin attendant (obviously the one on the tannoy) spoke with the speed of light, and the other two trudged up and down the plane attempting to hand out pretzels and beverages.

I am now ensconced in my Houston hotel with a 0700 scheduled return trip to the airport in the morning. From there I am off to Galveston and a week on the Liberty of the Seas with the plan of completing the rest of my last outstanding paper somewhere with a latte machine, meals prepared, and no other demands on my time. Since George is now on an every two week schedule for UCSF, this seemed like an ideal window of opportunity. The Liberty was the RCCL ship with a reasonably priced cabin available. RCCL because I see no reason to pay for wifi and am sure that I will need it.

I am sure that I have mentioned at some point that we are down to one set of car keys. The last time that second set was seen was over a year ago. George swears that he hung them up; I am not so sure that happened. But in any case, we have just one set of keys to the VW. The good news is that the car doesn’t have an electronic lock. It is one of those times when I was delighted to be old fashioned. I want a key that goes into the lock. Not something that you drop somewhere near the ignition to release it. Not a clicker that is continually disappearing somewhere, delaying me getting out of the car. I want to turn a key, not press a button. Start the car, not ignite the engine.

Ok, so maybe I am being a luddite, but getting a second key in this case is going to be a lot cheaper than getting a second electronic key since that involves changing out the whole electronic lock.

What started me down this trail of concern this morning? I have been staying with a friend in the outer Sunset. Driving in yesterday, I parked my car in her driveway last night. Drivers in this area where there is extremely limited street parking don’t leave that meter free at the end of a driveway. They park as absolutely close to the edge as possible. Meaning that the width of the space through which I had to drive was less than a meter wider than the car. As I parked last night, I was thinking that backing out was going to be even more fun.

This morning I packed up everything and worked my way through all the locks to place my backpack and bag in the car. Went back in to check on everything, then back out to the car. Key? Where was the key? Obviously I didn’t lock it in the car (not physically possible). Went through my two bags. And the floor of the car, and the back seat. Nada. Went back in the house, checking out the bedroom in which I had been staying. Checked under the bed, checked the garage. Trying not to pull my hair out, I decided to take a deep breath and retrace my steps once more. It is not like I could Muni & BART to the East Bay to get the other key, because SOMEONE lost the other key and hasn’t gotten around to replacing it.

I am trying not to wake up Jessica and her son with my rustling around. My last hope was the hall. Turning on the light, I didn’t see anything along the carpet. But, hello? That lump under my shoe which I must have bumped, moved and stepped on at least twice?

My car key.

I mentioned, did I not that the DC Metro doesn’t start till 0800 on Sunday mornings? That the first meetings start at 0800? That just because the Metro opens at 0800 doesn’t mean that corresponds to the time the first train rolls through my particular station? End result is that I made it to Dupont Circle and up the hill to the conference location in time to discover that there was a definite lack of coffee on site. Listening to people discuss dry academics without caffeine in my system is not necessarily my idea of a good time.

My working group is dispersing back to their home countries (Australia, Austria, France, Canada, India, UK, US) with plans made for future conferences and collaborations between.

And then it was time to head for the airport (closing ceremonies are never my things, especially when the last speaker in the conference doesn’t end on time). I was flying Delta. Arriving at the airport early wasn’t a problem. Finding a location where I could sit down was, especially after a gate change.

Did I mention that all the flights were so seriously over booked that the airlines were offering hotel vouchers, meal vouchers, $600 in flight coupons and rebooking to 0600 in the morning. Was not seriously tempted, but it thought about it for all of 30 seconds.

Then the delays started. Slight delay of plane arriving from Atlanta (duh). Followed by mechanical on the way out to JFK. Then the flight arriving in? Medical pickup followed by 20 minutes of deplaning before loading for La Guardia. So we were only 20+ minutes behind for my connector to Detroit. Which was packed. Which was filled with all of the above mentioned passengers attempting to bring their entire life possessions with them on the plane in suitcases obviously too big to fit anywhere other than the baggage compartment.  It meant that the boarding process had to be stopped part way through to take cases back out of the plane and check them.

Detroit is just a short flight away. We arrived with 45 minutes till my next flight (not the 90 that I had planned). And the fun started all over again. Announcement – this plane is completely booked. We are looking for volunteers to delay travel till tomorrow morning. Ok – not happening from the looks of things. And…. we need 37 roller boards checked as there is not going to be room on the plane for all of them. !5 minutes later – Folks – we still need 32 large pieces of carry-on checked. If you are in Main 2 or Basic boarding, there is not going to be cabin space for anything that doesn’t fit under the seat in front of you.

And on it went. There were a few intelligent people, but the majority once again had to be stopped on boarding and handed luggage tags. The flight from DTW to SFO is almost five hours. Add in packed plane and turbulence, I was glad for my window seat and head phones. It was after 2300 when we landed at SFO. Looking at the BART.GOV website – the very last train headed toward the city was scheduled for 2354…

Taxi in, escape the plane, hustle to the Air Train, bail out and dash down the steps to BART. The train is there: Antioch (with connections to all stations but for two). The doors are closed. The train is partly full of passengers waiting. Suitcases, lot of suitcases. And the doors are closed. I am at one end of the train, watching unbelievingly as someone at the other end boards. One open door – down at the other end.

Not stupid here, I head down the platform figuring the worse that happens is the train departs and the best is that I can board. Once on, I head up the train three cars and find a seat. Then the doors open for about 2 minutes, close and we leave. I change to Muni at Civic Center. Unlike during the day with hustle and bustle, the station is mostly inhabited by various people who view the station as their home away from home. Muni is much the same. Not many of us taking the various trains, but interesting people watching while I wait for the N-Judah.

I am the only one getting off at UCSF facing the challenge of figuring out which door I may enter, then finding I have to sign in with security. It is just short of 0100 when I get to George’s room. I will not bore you with what passes for a “family sleep chair.” Just to note that I can stretch my legs out if sitting down, or I can curl up in fetal position. But the night will be short….

(date altered so that it comes out on Sunday. Because I feel like it is still Sunday….