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An Odd Story

It was strange on the ears.

Last night I got into my car to drive home from work and turned on sports talk radio. (I do sports in the afternoons and politics in the morning.) I just could not believe what I was hearing.

Nashville’s Chief of Police Ronal Serpas was being interviewed by renowned sports talk host George Plaster. It just didn’t seem right.

Serpas is a master of the media so he did fine. He discussed the case in simple terms and made it easy to understand the investigation that is taking place.

What seemed weird was hearing George ask hard news questions about the slaying of Titans’ ex-quarterback Steve McNair. George did well, but it just seemed odd to have the guy who talks about touchdowns and free throws using terms like “crime scene” and “ballistics reports.”

It’s just the latest twist in an odd story. The McNair story has been the talk in Nashville since word broke late on the 4^th of July. It’s transcended sports as I’m watching live coverage of the funeral as I write.

We discussed it in our office staff meeting Tuesday. It was a legitimate discussion because it did have an impact on our operation here.

All the while I keep thinking how sad this story is for everybody involved. It never should have happened in the first place.

I met McNair a couple of times. He seemed to be a very nice guy.

I felt badly for him to lose his life and have his reputation all trashed in a single moment. You have to feel for his family too.

I called Pop on Sunday afternoon and he said it was the talk of church that morning. He said, “Son, if McNair would have spent the 4^th of July with his family in Mississippi cooking out, he would still be here with us.”

While I don’t condone his actions, I can understand his feelings. It’s hard when you get into your mid to late 30s and you realize how foolish you look flirting with those hot college-aged girls. It’s one of those milestones that is tough on a guy.

I have a couple of friends who always give me a load of grief about teaching part time at my alma mater. They say I do it just to meet college girls.

One of my replies is, “Hey, I never made it those gals when I was trim, had a full head of hair and a cool bachelor pad five minutes from campus. What makes me think anything would be different now?”

Sadly, McNair paid the ultimate price for chasing a young girl. Although I’m sure, in his position as a wealthy, retired football player, he may have been the one being chased around.

All the while, the words of Proverbs keep popping up again … “Let thy fountain be blessed: and rejoice with the wife of thy youth.”

It’s not always easy. That wife of thy youth changes with the responsibilities brought on by parenting and career responsibilities.  

A guy who is having doubts about his virility can easily be led astray by young girls. It’s like some guys think if they hang out with young girls somehow it will slow or reverse the aging process.

It doesn’t work that way.

While not everybody gets saddled with a crazy girl who shoots you in the head when you’re sleeping on her couch, a lot of guys pay the price for chasing young girls. I’m reminded of my dear friend who is now divorced over an affair in his office.

I try to comfort him and tell him it could just as easily be him trying to make me feel better. He says I’m just saying that, but I really mean it. But for the grace of God go I …

McNair brought the folks in Nashville a lot of joy. Now, his tragic death has led to many who are grieving for him.

This should have been a great time in his life. Unlike many pro athletes, McNair took care of his money and was set for life at age 35. He was free to enjoy life and raise his four sons.

Now those boys don’t have a father. I feel for them.

It's been a hard week for many of us. 

Maybe the weekend will be better. Oh, I'm going to be in the Guard this weekend.

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His Name Is Carlton

Anguilla has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world.

I took a day trip there alone in 2005, and had wanted to show them to my kids since then. It was one of those side trips I planned last week for the whole family.

While those lovely beaches were a sight to behold, I found out my one-day excursion to be quite expensive. I didn’t expect Anguilla to be cheap, but I was happy to leave with my pants on and all my organs intact that afternoon.

As I said, Anguilla, a small Caribbean island near the Dutch West Indies, is renowned for its sandy beautiful beaches. Unlike its neighbors, development is very restricted there and there is no major airport access.

These factors make Anguilla expensive even by Caribbean standards. What lodging that is available there is very costly, sometimes twice the rate you’ll pay on neighboring St. Maarten. Yeah, we’re talking $300-$400.

Thus, a lot of folks visiting Anguilla will stay on a neighboring island. They will commute back and forth on ferries each day.

Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston made headlines there a few years back frolicking in the sand before their divorce. Anguilla’s isolation does tend to give celebrities more privacy.

I was miffed right away. I made reservations at the ferry online and figured, “they’ve got a website so they take plastic.”

So, I reached in my pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. I was just glad to have it.

Unlike my first tour to Anguilla, the ferry ride had no other benefits with the package. Thus, we got to Anguilla and were seemingly nowhere near the beach.

It made matters even worse when there was a lengthy process to get on the island. It wasn’t that way before, but apparently fears about the Swine Flu prompted the increased scrutiny.

We got on the island but we were nowhere near Shoal Beach, one of Anguilla’s best places to lay out. I found a taxi and it was a $50 ride, but it wasn’t bad for a round-trip ticket so I reached in my pocket again.

The kids loved the beach. It was white and sandy and clean as a whistle.

We found a nice, inexpensive place to eat too. It had all the American fare, and my mother in law picked up the tab.

Everybody enjoyed the beach. I had to be careful not to get sunburned like I did the first time I went to Anguilla.

We were out in the water swimming when I noticed a group of about a half dozen boys starting to swim around us. My wife was incensed since she thought they were checking out my oldest daughter so she took my 12-year-old and the younger kids to the shore.

I glared at the stupid little punks, but I couldn’t get too angry. I probably would have done the same thing if I was in their shoes, but I hoped I wouldn’t be so obvious.

The boys got the hint and left. We swam the rest of the afternoon without incident.

Our taxi cab driver came back at the very moment he promised and we were all ready to go. We had a nice ride back over to the dock and I thought I would give him a little tip.

He told me that I owed him another $50. I laughed at him and walked away. Seriously, he had to be joking to ask for $100 for two, 10-minute car rides.

He followed me back into the ferry so I figured he was serious. I told him I was pissed off at him because I felt like he had ripped me off. However, I didn’t want to make any trouble.

You guessed it, I reached into my pocket again. My wad of cash was starting to dwindle.

As we prepared to leave, the lady stamping our passport asked for $25. It was some sort of exit tax.

I paid the tax and then went to the bathroom. I was halfway expecting to find a pay toilet.

We still had a great day in Anguilla. However, I just had no idea it would cost me so much.

My wife was incensed, but I calmed down. Making great memories like that was worth it.

I’m not writing this to discourage anybody from going to Anguilla. However, just bring a lot of money and don’t ride in the cab if the driver says his name is “Carlton.”

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Long Trip Home

We got back home from vacation Sunday morning about 1:30 a.m.

To say I was exhausted would be an understatement. However, I was grateful to have made it back safely and have all of our kids and luggage in tow.

I had to chase the rental car folks down to return our vehicle. Otherwise, we made it into the airport OK and got checked in without incident.

We had a snack while we waiting for our plane. A longtime friend was also in the airport catching a flight to Paris and we visited with her too.

It was then we got the word. We could not believe it at first.

It seems St. Maarten didn’t have enough fuel to gas up all the airplanes it had in its airport. We weren’t sure whether it was a fuel shortage or some kind of labor action by airport workers.

I shook my head. I was less than a week removed from the drama surrounding our trip from Dominica to St. Maarten via Antigua and St. Kitts, and I was hoping there would not be a repeat on this day.

“It’s bad enough I’m spending the 4^th of July in airports,” I thought to myself. “I don’t want to spend the 5^th of July here either.”

Sure enough, they made the announcement that our departure was delayed an hour and a half. I didn’t panic since we had a long layover scheduled in Miami prior to our flight home to Nashville.

We sat around and waited for the next shoe to drop. Then came the announcement that would be leaving soon and would make an unscheduled stop in San Juan, Puerto Rico, to get the fuel we needed to make our trip to Miami.

I tried to find something funny in this episode. I could blame Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chavez since he seemingly controls most of the oil in the Caribbean these days.

It’s only a 30-minute flight to Puerto Rico from St. Maarten. When I first began making the trek in 1991, there was a direct flight from Nashville to San Juan. You would then fly onto the island of your choice. I liked San Juan’s airport much better than Miami’s.

We weren’t on the ground in San Juan for long. The stewardess kept giving us a blow-by-blow account of where we were in the refueling process.

Once we finally started to move, they gave us the new arrival time in Miami. It gave us a couple of hours to land, get our bags, clear immigration and customs and catch our flight to Nashville.

I was seated next to a Chilean businessman. We had a nice conversation, and he was looking forward to going to Miami as the second leg of his vacation with his wife and another couple.

We got all of our bags except we twice went back after I was told we had “all of our bags.” I was kind of irked, but we muddled through.

It was well past 8 o’clock since we found our connecting gate. The only thing open close by was a Pizza Hut. I wasn’t too excited, but the kids were ecstatic.

Just as we had finished up our meal, we got called to get on the plane. I thought it was pretty good timing myself.

I could see fireworks exploding in towns on the ground. I love the 4^th of July holiday and it made me wish we had come back the day before even though my wife would never approve of a plan that would deprive her of even a day in the Islands.

The plane ride got a little bumpy as we started to approach Nashville. However, we landed on time with no problems.

Thankfully, we got all of our bags and were ready to embark on the final leg of our trip. This entailed jamming everybody into our minivan and making the hour-long trek to our home in Clarksville.

I work near the airport in Nashville so my Pop was going to drop the minivan by my office. I took the 5-minute cab ride over there, and didn’t see it.

It was then I started to get concerned. Did he forget? Did he leave it someplace else?

The cab driver and I circled again. It was time to act so I called Pop on his cell even though it was well after midnight.

“Hey Pop, what did you do with my van?” I asked.

For some reason, he had parked it in a row in back of the office complex where I work. Only after he told me exactly where it was did I find it. I apologized for calling him so late, but Pop understood.

I went back to the airport and we somehow managed to load everybody onboard. I was pretty tired at that point, but was also excited about getting home.

I tuned around the radio and noticed that a couple of sports talk stations were talking about Steve McNair’s career. This struck me as odd since he had been away from the game for such a short period of time I figured he could not be eligible for Hall of Fame consideration.

I found some music instead. It helped me stay alert.

We brought the luggage in the house and collapsed into bed. I should have offered a quick prayer of thanks for the safe travel, but I was gone before my head hit the pillow.

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Too Much to Ask

Flying to the Caribbean is pretty much like any international flight.

Just show up a couple of hours early, make sure none of your bags weighs no more than 50 pounds and don’t forget your passport.

Flying from one island here to the next can be a real adventure. Between incompetent airlines and know-nothing gate workers, you just never know what to expect once you board one of these regional airlines here.

I’ll never forget my first flight on one of those puddle jumpers from St. Maarten to Dominica. The flight itself wasn’t so bad, but I was pretty angered when we showed up for our flight only to see a group of people quietly shuffled off in front of us. We were then informed that these folks’ flight had been delayed the previous night and we would have to delay our flight until the afternoon.

That was my first and last flight on WinAir. We have since flown Liat Airlines, but they have hardly been much better. Saturday was a real low point.

I got kind of miffed in the airport was we tried to leave Dominica. It was a hot day, and the kids were thirsty. I told them I would get them something once we were settled in for our flight.

I discovered that despite the improvements made to Dominica’s airport there was nothing to drink there. I couldn’t believe it so I stomped through security, went out to a snack bar and did the whole thing again to get the kids something. (Yeah, I was thirsty too.)

The first leg of our flight to Antigua went well. We made it time and I hoped to get back into St. Maarten just after the sun went down.

It was not to be.

We had one of Liat’s all-too-frequent delays. We waited and waited.

Finally, they called us to the gate. It was then we were told that six of us would have to give up our seats since we were overbooked.

We really hadn’t had a decent meal all day so I was willing to volunteer us. We would get a free ride to a motel, a meal voucher and a flight out the next morning.

My wife would have done it. However, my Mother in law would hear none of it.

We finally were loaded into the plane and crammed into our seats. It was then we were told we would make a quick stop in St. Kitts-Nevis on our way to St. Maarten.

I sighed. That deal to stay a night in Antigua was looking better all the time.

I did get to witness an exchange between a cranky old lady and a young 30-something fellow. He was traveling with a young lady who had left something in the seat. This old lady just tore into him and kept asking, “You don’t want me to sit with you?”

I think her husband finally told her she was making a real ass of herself and she relented. She quietly moved to the back.

It was dark by the time we landed in St. Kitts-Nevis. I wished I could have seen those lovely islands. They were the first Caribbean islands I had visited 20 years ago.

It was almost 11 p.m. by the time we made it to St. Maarten. I don’t have to tell you what happened next, do I?

Yeah, our bags didn’t make it with us. We waited until we got assurance they would be there at 7 a.m.

We went home and quickly hit the sack. My wife wanted to get up early on Sunday to get ready for church and go get those bags.

Initially, nobody answered the phone. When we finally got to talk to somebody, we were assured they would be there at 10.

My MIL lives close to the airport so we just went out there to get them. They were nowhere to be found.

At this point, my wife was very upset. My wife is a lovely person, but you don’t want to be around her in that kind of mood.

Thank God for church. We had a nice service even though I felt a bit self-conscious at not having shaved since my kit was still on my bags.

The bags were there when we went back after church. Lucky for Liat.

She called one of their managers on Monday. I was still asleep and I missed that call.

I sure wish somebody else would start a Caribbean airline. Is it too much that the flights run on time and not lose your bags?

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Our Sympathies

I've been told in the past by friends overseas that I stand out in any crowd as an American.

I remembered those words yesterday as I was here in Dominica once again touring the nation's capitol city of Roseau. I had two different people come up to me and wish me their sympathies on the death of Michael Jackson.

My first reaction was to chuckle. However, I could they were serious so I thanked the lady at the bus stop and the young girl in the souvenir shop for their kind wishes.

The lady at the bus stop also told me we should pray for Michael's soul. It was then the Southern Baptist in me came out.

"Ma'am, Michael is already in one place or the other now,"  I said.

It did amaze me that Jackson's music was now booming through the streets of this foreign city. To my knowledge, Jackson had never visited Dominica. Heck, if he's like most Americans, he doesn't even know where this Caribbean island nation is located.

Perhaps it's the ethnic ties. They do grieve for him as though they had lost one of their own.

On a less serioius note, one of the guys in my National Guard unit sent me an email after I told him I was overseas. He tried to liken my situation to a certain southern governor and fellow Republican.

I emailed back and assured him that I was with my wife, children and my mother in law.

"Under these circumstances, it's impossible for me to get in trouble," I said.