On Escaping to Hell
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| Newark Liberty Bald Eagle God Bless America Airport |
Arlington, TX
Outside the Game:
I was having a particular stressful week, between work and the situation with my mother. I really needed some time away and a personal achievement, so this summer Friday and a potentially 200th stadium both were much-needed.
I did my laundry during the workday, deftly side-stepped a potential big problem at the end of the day at work, and grabbed my bag and left for my public transit odyssey at around ten to five. I took my first train, the light rail to Hoboken station, grabbing a NJ Transit train to Secaucus Junction, to grab another NJ Transit train to Newark Airport, where I boarded my last train, the monorail from the train station to the terminal. All in all, it was a rather flawless commute, with minimal waiting and no major hiccups.
Even security moved along, although it took twenty minutes. But these days it is mostly the walking around and not waiting in line. I was through to the bag scan, and then three bags in a row, including my own, received the dreaded alternate path, and I had to scrum up at a huge line for advanced screening that, of course, had only one person manning the booth. I grew more and more irate as I waited, thinking that my camera that I had left in my bag might have been triggering something, but my moral outrage was immediately deflated when he pulled out the full-sized sunscreen bottle that I had left in my game bag. Fair enough, within the parameters of absurdity we are working under. My mistake.
I headed out into the evening. The dinner and Italian place I normally stop at had lines out the back, so I went to the third choice restaurant, sidling up to the bar to order an overpriced French dip sandwich while watching the latest episode of Jomboy's floorball tournament. Thus fed and with about fifteen minutes before boarding, I made the walk over to my gate, calling my mother as I went and making sure she understood where I was going to be the next couple of days and that my aunt was going to be checking in on her.
Upon making it to the gate, I was inevitably greeted by the fact that the plane hadn't landed yet. It arrived in short order, but we were delayed about a half hour in boarding, and the proposed early arrival on my phone app slowly slid back to "on time," which you can't argue against too strenuously.
We eventually boarded, and I had bought a cheap upgrade to a seat with more legroom, so I was able to get my bag up in the overhead and slouch into my window seat early, watching the seats next to me fill up with an Indian couple. Although I had the extra legroom, my back was killing me all flight, which I passed watching Only Murders in the Building while hunched over my tray table in a way that made my back not hurt--or at least hurt less.
As promised, we did land on time, setting down on terra firma around 11:15 PM or so. I got a Lyft to take me to my hotel, and I walked out of terminal to get it, only to be slapped in the face by temperatures in the high 80s. On commenting on it to my Lyft driver, he confirmed that it had cooled down (in some bizarre twist of reality). I had told him that I was going to the new stadium the next day, and he assumed I was at a different hotel than the address I gave him. He drove by the stadiums, which was nice to see, and it wasn't more than a minute out of the way, so nothing to be too concerned about.
He dumped me at the hotel a little before midnight, where I was able to check in to my room and buy some drinks and snacks from the pantry before settling in for the night. I turned the AC temperature down even colder, unpacked, got ready for bed, and then fell asleep immediately.
The Accommodations:
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| My room at FPSDAED |
I was at the pithily named Four Points by Sheraton Dallas Arlington Entertainment District, or FPSDAED for short. The place was bordering on trying to be boutique-y, with "hip" art on the walls and things like a single rafter in a high ceiling for no good reason.
The bathroom (with a sliding wooden door, for reasons) was right off the entrance to the left, with a shower tub and vanity. The bedroom was further in, with two queen beds separated by a nightstand on one side, and a dresser, desk with TV, refrigerator, and lounge chair with a hip working desk on the other.
It was fine for what it was, but clearly though itself something more. I piled all the pillows on one bed, as one does, and didn't worry too much about it.
On 200, After Challenges
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| Globe Life Field, 2022 |
Seattle Mariners vs. Texas Rangers
Globe Life Field
Major League Baseball, American League
Arlington, TX
7:05 PM
Outside the Game:
My day began at 5 AM, when my phone made a noise I'd never heard before. Groggily looking at the offending device, I saw an unwanted screen in an unfamiliar font telling me my phone can crashed and could not recover, and did I want to hard reboot? I tried a regular reboot, and after five fretful minutes, my phone, which housed my tickets for the evening, my plane ticket home, and various and sundry other critical items, came back on as if nothing had happened. I forced myself back to sleep.
...to be awoken at 6 AM, by the alarm on the nightstand, clearly set by the previous occupant of the room and not turned off. I was worried about omens at this point, but after gently beating the alarm clock quiet, I flipped over to the cool side of shah's banquet of pillows I had around me and eventually fell back to sleep.
I didn't wake again until just shy of 10 AM, and I forced myself to go to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Rightly so, as it would turn out, as they stopped with breakfast service at ten. I ate my adequate but overpriced breakfast platter, charged it to my room, and then trooped back upstairs for more sleep.
I managed to wake up, shower, and head back out into the universe just before 1 PM. I stopped at the front desk to ask about some transit options. There was a "trolley bus" that apparently went out to the park, and I wanted to work out transport for early Sunday morning to catch my 6 AM flight. The trolley bus was less than whelming, but it might be an option to Six Flags the next day or home from the game that night, so I accepted some passes from the counterperson. She also told me about a local cab company, showing me a card from a drawer at her desk. She asked when I needed to be picked up Sunday, then said not to worry about it; she would handle everything and leave a note for the early morning shift to let them know, and they had done this a hundred times before. I was skeptical, but she seemed competent.
It was about a fifteen minute or so walk to the ballpark, so I headed out, immediately getting slapped in the face by the heat that was somehow a downgrade of the temperatures of the past week. I made my way purposefully, but not at full bore, using whatever shade was available. The park, and the old park just across the street, were pretty quickly visible, so it made the walk easier, and I was soon outside of Globe Life Field. The pictures that I had seen didn't do it justice. It was quite nice in person and looking less like the airplane hanger it appeared to be in overhead shots.
I made my way slowly around the park to take my pictures. Nearly all of the compass-aligned entrances had some monuments or statues outside of them, culminating in the main entrance with a giant logo and the inevitable Nolan Ryan statue. The team store was open, so I went in do my purchases, grabbing a water or two as it went, and also finding out about the tours of the stadium. Inquiring at the small ticket booth by the store, I was informed there was one tour left at 3:30 PM, but that it was an abbreviated tour that ended with watching batting practice until the gates opened. Seeing an opportunity to look around early and not having to wait in line to get in, I took it, but as it was just after 2 PM, I would have to hoof it to get back to the hotel to get my game bag, and grab a nap and shower before heading out. Luckily, there was a 7-11 right outside the park to grab more beverages and a little lunch.
I decided to grab a Lyft for the short trip back to the hotel, hanging out in the air conditioning at the Arlington Backyard Live! next door, which looked to be just another bar, but actually turned out to be a complex of bars and stores that was the big hang-out spot before and after games. Reluctantly leaving the AC, I jumped in my ride when it came and was back at my hotel in a minute.
I grabbed a quick shower to get the sweat off me, laid out everything for the game, and then took a much-needed nap until 3-ish. I procured a Lyfy back to the park, grabbed all my gear, and was back at the park in a flash. I had my ticket scanned and was in the welcome shade and air conditioning of Globe Life Field.
On the way out of the game, it was pushing 11 PM. The 7-11 right outside the stadium was already closed, and I had no desire to hang out at the bars next door, so I just decided to walk back to the hotel, because how hot could it be in the middle of the night?
The answer, my friends, was 95 degrees. The sun was fully on the other side of the planet, as far as it could possibly be, and this misbegotten place was still 95 degrees. At least it felt a little cooler without the sun beating down on me, and the walk back to the hotel wasn't too bad. I grabbed some drinks at the front desk kiosk, went up to bed, pounded a Gatorade, and collapsed on the bed, checking to make sure the alarm was turned off before falling into a deep sleep.
The Stadium & Fans:
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| Home to center, Globe Life Field |
The outside of the park is lined with memorials and statues at nearly every entrance. The Northeast entrance has the most, with an Arlington Wall of Fame, next to the Rangers Hall of Fame (that would be getting new members the next day), along with statues of Todd Vandergriff and the clinching moment of the team's first trip to the World Series, and... a glove. The Southeast Entrance is guarded by Pudge Rodriguez, and the tucked-away Northeast Entrance is the only one not marked with any statues or memorials. The main entrance has a statue of Nolan Ryan lining a triumphal walkway to the park with a giant team logo in the brickwork behind him. The giant indoor bar and shopping complex the Arlington Backyard is across the street from this main entrance, connected by a walkway from the middle deck of the stadium.
All the entrances dump out onto the main promenade around the park. The spacious walkway wraps around the entire park, housing memorial jerseys, Texas flags made out of baseballs, and other dubious memorabilia, allowing access to the seating zones below the concourse. One of the ways down to the exclusive areas of the park is lined with Nolan Ryan pictures, a mosaic of bats he has broken, and a listing of all the different individuals he had struck out during his career, all with lines through their name. The exclusive area has various suites and clubs such as the Stub Hub Club, and a "Don't Mess with Texas" wall highlighting the toxic masculinity throughout the history of the franchise. That history is also conveyed through a timeline of the club from its start to the opening of the new park, along with art from the history of the franchise on the walls.
Back in the plebian areas, the middle tiers hold the "common" luxury suites and access to the middle seating deck, while the upper deck, in contrast to many places, houses a lot of activity, including the play areas, and the Karbach Brewery Bar, home of the wooden rocking chairs and the pre-game Happy Hour. One tricky aspect of the park is traversing levels, with a few escalators, not enough elevators, and a hidden ramp area being the only ways to go up and down. The famous dome remains closed for all but a handful of games, but does slide relatively swiftly along long archways to provide some covered VIP parking for the few times it is open. Along those archways in left field are the memorials, retired numbers, and pennants. For a team so vocal about their respect of Jackie Robinson, one can't help but notice that his retired 42 is somehow wedged behind the secondary scoreboard in left field.
And speaking of scoreboards. Let's talk about Frank's 2000-Inch TV in right. This giant flatscreen is either a towering achievement or an affront to nature. It carries every possible bit of data you could want about the game, with persistent umpires, lineups, pitch and hit details, and there's even space for some helmet and bat graphics. The aforementioned smaller screen in left is there for those who can't see the big screen, most likely those sitting in its ominous shadow in the upper deck in right field. A vertical board in center gives out of town scores and other errata. For a domed park, it does get a lot of natural light through windows that line the park under the roof, as well as giant banks of windows at either end of the roof.
There's a decent selection of concessions, from the basic to the specialty concessions available only to the lower deck visitors. Prices are MLB-level, but not outrageous. There are a few team stores, but merch isn't aggressively pushed every five feet. All-in-all it was a much nicer park than I was expecting. The TV screen doesn't do it much justice.
But the between-inning entertainment was rather sedate. There was no MC, and some kind of horse mascot made an appearance right at the start of pre-game and was never seen again. It certainly made sense not to have a furried-up mascot passing out from heat stroke at every game at the place across the street, but the barely there mascot was curious in the air-conditioned palace. Most of the between-inning action was up on the scoreboard, with games like "Nuttiest Fan" (that the crowd was far too into), and the find a ball, and a couple of live-action contests such as a Wiffle-ball homerun derby, a dice toss, and--one of the only events on the field--a stealing third game. The other on-field event was the Dot Race, and if the crowd was illegally into the Nuttiest Fan, their investment in the Dot Race outpaced that of the ballgame being played. That crowd was sparse and not too overly interested in the game, engaging eagerly in the wave in 2022, one of the truly highest crimes a crowd can perpetrate in these days.
But at least they stopped singing "Deep in the Heart of Texas" during the Seventh-Inning Stretch.
At the Game with Oogie:
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| Scoring in the 200th park |
At 3:30 PM, the tour started, with a our sprightly tour guide dragging the group around the park, starting at the brewery at the upper deck in left field, working down to the PA booth for a meet and greet with legend Chuck Morgan, and heading down into the bowels of the stadium, where we saw both the giant tunnel system (used for security entrances, as well as a refuge for the entire stadium should severe weather ever hit during a game) and the ultra-fancy ownership boxes, the most prominent one, 42 feet directly behind home plate, being reserved for former president George W. Bush.
The tour was the usual mix of fun facts (there is always a fifth "umpire" on the field when the former president is in attendance who is really a Secret Service agent), bragging (the dome is the largest single pane of glass in the world), and subtle upselling by showing all the fancy areas that the plebs would get access to if only they would spring for the expensive tickets. But a couple of thing stuck out. One was how much they were "negging" the old stadium across the street in their tour. The other was home much the Yankees lived rent-free in the heads of the Rangers. Every single achievement they bragged about was in relation to the Yankees, and every jab at other teams always seemed to be about the Yankees. I don't think it was conveying the message that they wanted to.
With the tour ending at batting practice, I headed out into the stadium as soon as it was legal for me to do so, and not having done a new MLB stadium in a while, I forgot how much of it there was, and how much walking was involved. I started in the fru fru area that I wouldn't be let back into, and then took a lap of the main concourse. Absolutely starving as I hadn't eaten since my impromptu 7-11 lunch, I grabbed a hotdog at a stand as I was walking around. I was almost immediately stopped by a woman hawking 50/50 tickets, and as per tradition, I agreed to some, but I clearly horrified her as I inhaled my hot dog while she was doing her sales pitch. I explained my situation sheepishly and hurried away with my tickets, having broken the social contract already.
I went back to the upper level for another walk around once I found an elevator, and then I went down to find my seat, which was just as behind home plate as I expected, but it also turned out to be right in front of the PA booth I had been in previously for the tour. I went out again to start double-checking things, and along the way I grabbed a smoked sausage and souvenir soda and sat down to eat and call my mother.
As I wrapped up the call and my sausage, I finally got a text from Anna, the proprietor of Baseballbucketlist.com, who had interviewed me earlier this year on her podcast. She had been instrumental in some advice for this trip and was interested in meeting up before gametime, on this my 200th professional baseball stadium visit. She was just coming up to the park with her better half and wanted to meet at Karbach Brewery. The name was familiar from the tour, but I asked a nearby vendor where that was, and as soon as he turned completely around, I knew I was in trouble. I was on the lower level by first base, and the Brewery was in the upper deck in left field, so I couldn't be further away.
Alrighty. I turned on my NYC walk and powered towards my destination as fast as I could. I finally found the escalator and was mechanically aided to the upper deck, and then walked the rest of the way as fast as I could. I managed to get there and upstairs before finding out they had just entered and were on their way up.
We eventually met up downstairs in the brewery and had a lovely pre-game chat. As mentioned, this was the first time I was ever meeting someone at a game on purpose that I hadn't known before. I had run into so many countless people on these tours, but at number 200, this was the first time I had purposefully met someone related to my ballpark collecting. We talked until right after the anthem, when I retreated down to my seat behind home plate.
It was sparsely populated in my area. I was right next to two older gentlemen, and we gave ourselves a seat apart even though we were next to each other. We talked a bit during the game. I told about my trip, which they were interested in. The man next to me joked about what I would do scoring the game if I had to go to the bathroom. I explained to him that I don't go to the bathroom, and thus don't drink beer at games. He agreed to drink for both of us, but I told him if he was going to drink for me, he better do me justice. From how they were talking, I think they were both employees of the team in some way, but I never found out for sure. They left in the late innings.
There was a group of 20-somethings a few rows ahead of me, and one of the women in the group had a really bad case of Drunk White Girl Syndrome, but outside of that, there was not much else of note. The seats in this area were padded and little bigger, so it was more comfortable to ride out a nearly four-hour game.
The Game:
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| First pitch, Mariners vs. Rangers |
Seattle was in the playoff hunt and at the end of a surging period of winning baseball, while the Rangers were languishing in last place, mere days before clearing house at all levels of baseball operation. The outcome would seem to be a foregone conclusion, and it was, but it took an abnormally long time to get there.
The game began sluggishly. The Mariners managed one hit in the top of the first, and Texas went in order. The second had more of the same, with Seattle stranding one single, while the Ranger got a leadoff single eventually erased on a one-out double-play. Scoring finally happened in the third. The Mariners turned a leadoff walk, a single, and a groundout into a run to grab a 1-0 lead. In the bottom of the frame, Texas came right back to turn two singles and a groundout into the equalizing 1-1 run.
Seattle kept going in the top of the fourth, plating two runs on a leadoff double, two walks to load the based, and a single to bring in the two runs, creating a new 3-1 lead. The Rangers couldn't keep pace in their half of the inning, stranding a leadoff single. In the top of the fifth, the Mariners only had a hit batsman and walk to show for it. Texas had a one-out single erased on a double-play. Seattle went in order in the sixth, while the Rangers strung a walk and two singles into a run to close the lead to 3-2.
The seventh had some minor action, with the Mariners stranding one single and Texas stranding two. Seattle started the eighth with back-to-back doubles, and a sacrifice fly bringing the lead run home, getting back the run to make it 4-2. The Rangers had a walk to show for their half. The Mariners put it away in the ninth, with two singles and a double to start the inning and make the lead a more insurmountable 6-2. Texas wilted away in the ninth, going in order and securing the Seattle victory and sole possession of a playoff spot at the time.
The Scorecard:
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| Seattle Mariners vs. Texas Rangers, 08/12/2022. Mariners won, 6-2. |
The scorecard was part of the oddly-priced $4.60 program. It was a heavyweight paper center insert, partially modified based on opponents. The card was a single page layout, with the visitors on top and the Rangers on the bottom. Each player section had nine lines, with no room for replacements, with number and position framing the name. There were 11 innings of boxes, with each line ending in At Bats, Runs, Hits, and RBIs, and each of the inning columns ending in runs and hits per inning. There were pitching lines for five pitchers for each team, and to the right of the pitching lines were overall team lines for errors, doubles, triples, home runs, stolen bases, and time of game. It was black text on white background with no diamonds in each scoring square, with adequate space for notes. It looked a little cramped at first blush, but it was fine for scoring. On the opposite page from the scorecard was the umpire roster, scoring instructions, and--very much a welcome addition--the explanation for major rules changes in the MLB this year (the Ohtani rule and the Manfred Runner).
There was great deal of weirdness and controversy in the game that predicated a lot of notes. We didn't make it past the top of the first, where the third Seattle batter hit a comebacker off the pitcher that made it into foul ground. Although he made the pitcher through the first, he was pulled for the second.
In the top of the third, there was an almost play that I had to note. With a runner on second and one out, there was a fly ball to the deep right field corner. Garcia threw a bullet, and while the runner did safely advance, it was a close play. In the bottom of the fifth, there was a hot shot to short that was correctly scored as an error a the time of the play, but it was changed to a home-cooking hit later in the game.
In the top of the sixth, there was another almost-play with a potential home run reviewed and upheld as foul. Finally, there was another E6 in the top of the ninth that was judged a hit for some reason. The scorekeeper was feeling generous that day. A run would eventually score on another E6 that inning that stood up, for some reason.
The Accommodations:
I was at the Four Points again, only stopping in to sleep and shower after the slow morning.
On the Wrong Zoo
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| Not dead; just hot |
Saturday, August 13, 2022
Arlington, TX
Outside the Game:
If I was lazy on Friday morning, the English language hasn't yet devised a word for my state of being on Saturday morning. Only the end of the breakfast window was enough to get me to begrudgingly don some clothes and head down to get some breakfast at 9:45 AM, served by a lovely but far too sprightly for my current mental state waitress. After mechanically eating said breakfast, I was back to my room and was asleep again quickly thereafter.
I eventually found the moral strength to get started with my day before mid-day, showering and ready to face the world at 11:30 AM. I had thoroughly contemplated my choices for the day, and faced with sweltering in the heat either way, Six Flags seemed less of an enticement, if much closer, so I decided instead to go the zoo route, and ordered up a Lyft to the Dallas Zoo. If I was going to melt all day, I could at least do it on my own terms and see some cool animals instead of waiting in lines for hours for rides lasting under five minutes.
My driver was originally from Qatar, and it was an interesting ride. His first question was why I was going to the Dallas Zoo and not the superior Ft. Worth Zoo. My honest answer was that I wasn't even aware that Ft. Worth had a zoo, let alone its superiority. He also went on to opine how Covid was clearly made in a Chinese lab, and I had realized how little crazy I had actually encountered in Texas so far, but as I was holding my tongue on that issue and staring out the window, one of the mythical hyper-jacked-up "TRUMP WON" trucks sped past, and I remembered where I really was.
Some construction had him confused even with GPS, but he managed to guess at the right exit, and dropped me at the zoo doorstep just shy of noon. A quick ticket purchased, and I was off sweating with the animals. As if to underscore the point, there were signs at regular intervals telling you that there was air conditioning in a nearby building, and wouldn't it be nice to step inside so you don't die of heatstroke? I may have been paraphrasing a little, but that was the gist of it.
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| The heat brings an existential crisis |
There was a "Dino Safari" at one of the back ends of the park, and as someone always up for kitsch, I got in line. In front of me in line was a family with a tweener girl in awkward pigtails and a tie-dyed shirt. For some reason, she decided she wanted to constantly ask me questions, which I answered as politely as possible. She did not believe I had been to Australia. She had a good understanding of travel times all across the greater South. When we eventually boarded the trams that served as the safari vehicles, she wanted to sit with me in the back. After giving a questioning look to her uncle, he just shrugged and said not to let her bite me, which wasn't as reassuring as perhaps he thought. After the goofy ride past various level of animatronic dinosaurs ended, they went their way to take some pictures, and I made my way to one of the giant restaurants to get some lunch that I had to eat on a table outside instead of the full-to-bursting air conditioned interior. Even not walking was an improvement on the heat, and I downed several Gatorades over the course of the meal.
As the day wound down, I saw an animal theater that had a "mystery" animal at its 3 PM showing. That's salesmanship, because I stuck around to find out what it was. I called my mother while I was waiting. She thought it would be a bird. It turned out to be a radiated tortoise, so shows what she knows. I hit the gift shop on the way out and ordered up a Lyft back to the hotel.
I was comfortably waiting in the shade on a bench when the driver called to say that his previous ride had a service animal, and he was vacuuming out the car. I assured it wasn't necessary, but he insisted, and said he'd be there shortly. Except he fell into the same trap as my previous driver, and ended up on the other side of the zoo. I explained that I couldn't re-enter the zoo and get to him, I eventually had to find out the address of my entrance, and he was able to get himself there on the third try. He took me back to the hotel with no further fuss, and I went up to my room to shower off the day and grab a nap.
Rested, I went down to the bar & grill restaurant to find it was really only a bar, so I powered up Seamless and found there was a Cracker Barrel within delivery range of my hotel. Faithful readers of this blog will know that hokey eatery will always win out on these road trips, and I made a delivery order with a song in my heart. It was eventually delivered unto me in several indestructible plastic trays, and I eagerly took them back up to my room to be consumed with great relish.
I upgraded my seat on the flight for the next day, confirmed by taxi pickup with the front desk, and then spent the rest of the evening in the tub soaking my poor feet. I staggered out, wrinkly fingered and relaxed, finished packing and laying out clothes for tomorrow morning, and was in bed and asleep by 9:30 PM for my early, early flight the next day.
The Accommodations:
Still at the Four Points again, spending a majority of the early evening at the hotel.
On Ying and Yang
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| Jersey, eventually |
Jersey City, NJ
Outside the Game:
The day began too early, and poorly. My phone alarm went off at 4:15 AM, and even going to sleep as early as I did the previous night, I only was working on six or so hours of sleep. I groggily awoke and put on the laid-out clothes, grabbed my bag, and went downstairs. I checked out with the nice young lady manning the desk at this ungodly hour, and told her that I had a cab coming. She said she had no info on that, which was my first indication something was wrong, because the counter person said she had put a note in for the morning shift.
Well, whatever, I'm sure it is fine. 4:30 AM came, and went. 4:35 AM came an went. I asked her for the card for the cab company. I told her where to retrieve it, and upon calling it, no one picked up and the voicemail was full.
Well.
Well, well, well.
Panic started to settle in. I immediately tried to get a Lyft, but as I expected, there were next to no drivers working, and my quickest ETA was fifteen minutes away, and it was quarter to five. My plane began boarding at 5:30 AM. It was about a half hour to the airport. I was going to miss my plane.
But then something happened to almost restore my faith in humanity. The lone desk person said come on. Not quite following, she was telling me to come with her, and that she was going to drive me to the airport. And once in her backseat, she flew on the wings of angels. Fifteen minutes later, I was at the airport. I slipped her some money for her troubles and ran into the terminal just after 5 AM to get in the security line, which still somehow took 20 minutes. While I was waiting, I was looking up any of all Marriot "leave a compliment" lines to make sure she got whatever corporate kudos could come her way (without giving details to get her in trouble), and eventually made my way to the gate right before boarding.
We boarded without any trouble, and it was just me in my aisle for a while until another middle-aged white guy took the aisle seat. We chit-chatted for a bit during boarding, maybe to keep ourselves awake more than anything. He was from Jersey City as well, and was taking a circuitous route back after a funeral in Oklahoma. Once we took off, we both quickly fell asleep, and I spent the flight split between napping and watching the last part of the first season of Only Murders in the Building.
The plane landed on time, and I dragged myself out into the somehow-still-morning, getting a Lyft to my mother's house to do my weekly duties, and then another back to my apartment for laundry, a nap, and an evening of posting photos and TV.
The Accommodations:
Home, sweet Jersey City, eventually
