Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

  It’s all about work-life balance, yes?

  So when my boss called me this past Tuesday morning to ask (who am I kidding?  To tell …) me to fly to Chicago Friday morning (yesterday) to meet with an important potential new client, I doth protesteth.

  “But Megan, Michael is Scientist of the Day at his school Friday afternoon.”

  “Oh, don’t tell me that,” she said.  Truly, in all fairness to my boss, I know she understood this was a much bigger deal than simply moving a work meeting to another day on my calendar, and I know in my heart of hearts that she did feel bad.  She’s a totally understanding boss when it comes to family.  I’m very lucky that way.  “The meeting will only be an hour,” she said, “from 10:00 to 11:00 – if you can get back for your son’s program, by all means do it.”

  You bet.  It was going to work.  Meeting downtown Chicago from 10:00 ’til 11:00 a.m.  American Eagle had a flight leaving Chicago O’Hare at 12:20 p.m., arriving back to Grand Rapids at 2:00 p.m.  Michael’s science experiment was to begin at 2:30 p.m.  Piece of cake for the 21st Century Dad traveler extraordinaire.  And all of the rest of Chicago would stop for me, clear traffic from the expressways, and magically make all the subways trains run right on time so I could get from downtown Chicago out 17 miles to O’Hare in 20 minutes (a trip that normally takes 40 minutes, according to my taxi driver later!), at which time of course O’Hare security check and screening would be empty of lines, or at least clear the way for me, since my travel plans and needs were so much more important than the rest of the 25,000 or so people bustling around O’Hare at that hour.  After all, Michael was going to demonstrate for his science experiment how trapping a teaspoon of water in a little film canister with an Alka Seltzer tablet would quickly cause the canister to rocket in to the sky in a fizzy little explosion.  Ahhh, the wonders of modern science!

  Back to my travels (and travails!).

  First I had to get to Chicago for my meeting.  Automobile from home in DeWitt to the Grand Rapids airport.  Plane to O’Hare.  Subway train to downtown Chicago.  Check, check, check.  No delays.  Time even for a Starbucks on my walk to my firm’s Chicago office to prep for the meeting.  There’s something about a big city Starbucks that beats our local java any day of the week, so I love making time for this treat whenever I get to Chicago, New York, or the like, rare as it is.

  Walk to my meeting with two partners.  One partner was named Zielinski.  Finn loved hearing about that, because he recently enjoyed the movie “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids,” and couldn’t stop laughing at a character who kept wailing out his neighbor’s name:  “ZIELINSKI!!!”

  Meeting was fine.  Possible client account worth somewhere north of a half million bucks annually.  Global real estate management company with 30,000 US employees, in 23 countries around the world.  All we had to do was impress the company CEO that he should give his legal work to us.  I’m sure there are hardly any other attorneys in the great Chicago metropolitan area who could do this work, or who would want to.

  Meeting done.  Ten minutes late.  It’s 11:10 a.m.  Flight leaves O’Hare at 12:20 p.m.  My partners convince me to take a taxi to O’Hare.  “It’ll be a 20-minute ride at this hour because there won’t be any traffic on the expressway, whereas the subway will take at least 40 minutes,” they promise.  No guarantees, though.  Lawyers can never give guarantees!

  My luck is with me.  There’s a taxi literally pulling up to the curb to make a drop-off as I walk out of the building.  With a quick hand-shake, I bid my partners adieu and jump in the cab.  “O’Hare please,” I tell him.  “That’ll take 20 minutes, right?” I nervously ask, hoping to confirm my partners’ prediction.  “No rush, then,” I continue, “because my flight doesn’t leave until 12:20 — that’s like 65 minutes from now, and I’m already checked in.”

  “Perhaps you call airline to check next flight,” he says in a warm, kind, slightly concerned Indian accent.  “Trip normally take 40 minute.”

  Oh, man, what did I get myself in to?  There’s no way I’m making this flight now, I worry, and, sure enough, we pull on to the expressway to see heavy traffic, moving slowly, and the middle express lanes to O’Hare closed at this hour of the day.

  A very kind American Airlines 800-number agent calmed me a bit.  But just a bit.  “I can’t reach anyone at the American gate at O’Hare to let them know you might be running late,” she said, “but I will make an electronic note on your reservation that you’re on the way.  I don’t know if they’ll see it, though.”

  Now I’m sweating.  Maybe it’s the cramped, humid atmosphere in the back of the taxi with all the windows up on a beautiful sunny late morning.  No, actually, it was just me.  I have to get back for Michael’s science experiment!

  Magically, after 10 more minutes of nail-bitingly slow traffic, my taxi driver finds a few holes.  He artfully weaves in and out, between, around, and past cars, trucks, semis, motorcyles, etc.  This guy could be a skilled jockey at the Kentucky Derby, I’m thinking, guiding his galloping horse through tiny spaces on the racetrack to gain every last advantage.  I think he really wants me to get there.  These are the moments when you really have faith in humanity that people who’ve never met before that moment can really want to help each other out, and care what happens.

  Yes, we make it.  At about 11:51 or so.  I’ve never wanted to give someone a big tip more in my life.  The plane is boarding now, according to the boarding time listed on my boarding pass. 

  This is clearly not the time for the Transportation Security Administration personnel at O’Hare to question whether I fit any terrorist profiles.  I act friendly going through the security checks, the lines of which fortunately are moving along steadily enough.  Don’t try to make any nervous jokes, I remind myself.  That’s probably No. 1 on their checklist of things to watch for for more thorough screening, pat-down searches, etc.

  Once through, I appreciate how large O’Hare really is.  I’m reminded of O.J. Simpson in his pre-legal trouble days, sprinting through airports as if that’s going to make people want to rent a Hertz car a bit more than if they hadn’t seen him in the commercial.  I start running.  Gate G16 is a long way away yet.

  I do make it, however.  My retelling of this story, I fear, is becoming longer than the actual trip itself.  How much more can I talk it up?

  The point is, I do make it, even in spite of my worst delay all day, waiting at the Grand Rapids curb for a shuttle to take my out to the far parking lot to get my car.  And then getting lost trying to get out of the parking lot–too much construction going on, poor signage directing patrons to the parking lot exits.  I curse as loudly as perhaps I ever have in the car to myself.

  I finally walk in to Michael’s classroom at 2:40 p.m.  Just ten minutes late with all the crazy, blitzing travel I managed earlier in the day.  Thank goodness Michael’s teacher had another student perform his experiment first, giving me the ten minutes I needed to get there before Michael started.

  He was brilliant.  The class loved the fizzy explosions he produced several times over.  He loved the cheering from his fellow students and friends.  Kara and I couldn’t have been more proud.

Michael lighting his Alka-Seltzer/film canister “rocket”

Michael explains his rocket experiment to his 1st grade class

A teaspoon of water served as “rocket fuel” for Michael’s experiment

  I’m so thankful I have a job that gives me the flexibility to manage the day I did yesterday.  I hope my firm gets the work I went to Chicago to help secure.  But I’m happiest I was able to make Michael’s experiment at school.  There’s no question in my mind which matters more in the world.

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Tags: Michael, Traveling, Work

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