Study, I did. I was not going to let Herb pass by me on the Interstate while I was
riding my bike to work. Instead, I pictured Thelma and Louise drive-by with
hair flowing in the wind. I was already practicing my Miss America wave as I
passed him on my right. That being said, it was a good thing I found some “help”
on-line. I actually couldn’t believe I had lowered my integrity so much as to
go searching for it. However, I could not let another driving student get their
license before I did… again. So, “study,” I did, returning the next day to
stand in line – again – with the rest of society at 7:30 a.m. Arriving a half
hour before the doors opened, I was quite proud of myself for waking up on time
and getting to the DMV early. There were a lot of smarter people that morning, though. Standing in line with what had to be half of America, I decided I would try to make some friends, knowing I would be spending the next several hours with these people.  In case you are ever looking to make some new friends yourself, I have some advice. Share. Passing out copies of the driving test blog I discovered the night before to my new best friends, I quickly became their hero. I felt scandalous and popular, all at the same time. I was passing out the answers, and suddenly my CooI-ometer was eons high.

Finally, the cool breeze of the air-conditioned DMV welcomed us, and much to my chagrin, I never spotted Herb. Unbelievable. After passing the test (getting every
answer right, thank you), I couldn’t even have the satisfaction of walking by
Herb with my temporary driver’s license. I guess the real victory, however, was
that I was able to get my passport and start traveling with the rest of the
gang. I would be joining the exclusive “air” club and knew it would only be
that much easier up in the clouds.

* * *

CM made it look so easy. No lines, no waiting, just walking on water with their luggage
in tow behind them. And then there was me. Shuffling quickly through the
airport terminal (no frequent flyer miles yet to upgrade me), I made the
mistake of having my hands bogged down with my suitcase, carry-on, ticket stub
and a piping hot cup of coffee (really?).

Waiting in the bin line, I noticed the woman behind me trying to become friends. Still reeling from the popularity contest I had won back at the DMV, I figured it was just another fan trying to make small talk. It turned out I was quite wrong. Apparently, my bag was falling over into her bin. Which would have been fine, had I remembered to
remove the water bottle I had accidentally left in my bag, causing the buzzer
to go off and put me back in line. Then, I had to remove the large bottle of
perfume I carried, another unsuccessful attempt to make it through the scanner.
We would continue this charade a little further until I would finally make it
through the golden gates and onto my destination… New York City!

The meeting itself went off without a hitch. My return flight was uneventful. Somewhere
between the meeting strike and return flight? An epic novel. Not only were my
hands merely cutoff by the angry gentlemen in front of me who forgot to remove his belt, but shortly after I would be detained to a glass cage. Knocking on the glass box, I yelled to my boss. “What did I do? I’m being taken away. Please send my family my love. And oh yes, I might not make it to work on Monday.”

Thankfully, a few minutes later, after being cotton-swabbed on my palms (the same palm that had touched the Naked Cowboy’s derriere – how convenient), I was released to fly home and try to remember where I parked.

Posted in Uncategorized

National Fantasy Football League for Centrifuge Media

Draft is in a couple weeks. Stay tuned for the play by play.

Posted in Uncategorized

Ahhh… airport terminals. When you think about it, they’re not that different from the DMV… which I can attest to, since I’ve experienced hiccups on both air and land. And both incidents were quite memorable to say the least. On a recent flight, I was isolated in a glass box on a trip back from The Empire State. Did I magically turn into a mime or zoo animal for them to lock me up? Forget about the guy who just threw his bin with his laptop and cologne at me after being asked to go through the full body scanner for the second time… forget about questioning the nature of his trip. Of course angry man is not a threat to society. Of course angry man did not almost tear my hands off with his rage. No… Instead, let’s go after the innocent… even after she so sweetly removed her belt and shoes, following the TSA’s regulations. It’s enough to have to practically undress in front of strangers, but then to continuously be humiliated, and stuck in a cage… well, it got me to thinking about another fairly new experience. Allow me to raise the question: How different is an airport terminal from the trials and tribulations at the DMV?

Having recently moved to the area in the past year, I was in need of a new driver’s license. Acquainting myself with the DMV’S guidelines for obtaining a new license, I arrived a little before noon, hoping to beat the lunch crowd. Nice thought. Unfortunately, the line formed to see my man Herb was at least 20 people deep… not to mention the already filled seats in the waiting area. After waiting the 30 minutes or so to be seen, I was told that my former driver’s license wasn’t going to cut it. I would need my social security card, also. Well, crap. While I did read the requirements on-line the night before, in my hurry to get to my date with Herb on time, I realized in a simultaneous flashback that I had left my social security card on the kitchen table. I could practically see my card sitting there… waiting there with its hand on its hip… wondering why I had forgotten it. Stepping out of line, I promised to return shortly.

Arriving back at the DMV 30 minutes later, the line must have quadrupled in the short amount of time I left to retrieve my card. In line for a good 45 minutes, I was finally an arm length away from my friend Herb. Close enough to smell his cheap aftershave. Sweating slightly, I displayed the last of my paperwork. I couldn’t help but stand there proud, success forming itself into a smile across my face. “I’ll just need to see your proof of address change.” Darn it. He never told me that I needed to bring that with me. “Sir, you never said I needed to bring that with me.” Pause. “Ma’am, yes, I did. When you were here, I told you that you would need to bring with you three things: Your driver’s license, social security card and change of address.”

“No, you didn’t,” I responded. “If you did, I clearly would have brought all three things with me.”

“Ma’am, there is no need for you to get angry here,” Herb said, pumping out his chest with a wheeze of breath and attempting to increase his 5 foot 4 frame above mine. He continued, “I specifically stated that you will need to bring with you three things: your driver’s license…” Pause. “Social security card…” Another dramatic pause. “And confirmation of your address change. Now, if you can come back with some proof that you reside in the state of North Carolina, I will be happy to let you move forward,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Nonverbal translation: Get your stuff and get out of here.

“Once again, it would have been really great if you had told me those three things in the first place,” I repeated. I stood there hoping to display the same condescending air in my tone, same intimidation in my stature. Nonverbal translation: I will not put up with your attitude.

A minute later, and with my head down, I was back out at my car. Staring at the wheel, I contemplated where I could find proof of an address change, hoping that it would miraculously appear in my car so I wouldn’t have to make the drive home, again. A gossip magazine subscription floating somewhere in the backseat? A recent birthday card addressed to me? But alas! My insurance card, of course! What was I thinking? Certainly, Herb will accept this evidence.

Throwing open the glove box and withdrawing my golden ticket, I sprinted back to the line of 50 people. Surely, my buddy won’t make me get back in line since I only stepped out two seconds ago… surely, he can see my sweat, blood and tears. Literally, seeing how I stubbed my toe on my way back.

“You have to wait in line,” Herb jeered. Simple and right to the point. Much like his nose.

Cheers were heard throughout the room by my fellow linemen… clearly no longer my comrades. I guess understandable at this time of night. One less person meant one step closer to dinnertime.

An hour later, feeling defeated and no energy left in me to smile, I produced the last of the paperwork and was told I could sit in the waiting room. That’s funny. Hadn’t I already done enough waiting?

Another hour and a half later, and I was on my way to getting my new driver’s license. Except there would be no license today. Perhaps if I was given some advance notice from my pal Herb about the written test that was to take place, I could have saved myself a lot of anguish. I guess it did make sense after seeing all those people in the waiting room with a packet produced by Herb. Where was my book? Real interesting, Herbie. But not to worry, I took my first driver’s license test over 12 years ago, I would pass with flying colors. The big red X popped up on my screen at the same moment the 16-year-old kid to my right got a swooping hug from his mother. Glad one of us aced it. I could practically see the crowd lifting him up on their shoulders… fists pumping… their king crowned. The roles of the pauper and jester played by myself and Herb. Walking out of the DMV with my head down, I glanced up to see the green venom seeping out of the corners of Herb’s mouth. Obviously, my freshly applied makeup was not going to be in a photo shoot today. “Don’t forget to study next time,” final words following me into the star-filled night.

To Be Continued…

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Well, I tried to make it to the intersection made famous by the song, but the walk got dark and late!  Was surprised to see such a beautiful downtown area so… ghosttownlike! Not a lot of honking cabs or oblivious pedestrians, everyone was nice! And the BBQ… fabulous! What got me the most was the obvious effort this city is putting into becoming something more. Their convention center and ampitheater are beautiful and the surrounding downtown is full of great old and new architecture. The downtown Marriott takes center stage at night with an LED lightshow… that utilizes one whole side of the their 22 story facade! The whole experience kinda  reminds me of an AV production company I know! In a time where our country is struggling to keep its head above water, Centrifuge Media  is doing bigger and better things and growing! Oh, and if your meeting needs a full building LED show, we can do that!

Posted in On the Road

How To Turn 50 Minutes Into 10 Hours

OR

Glass Half Full (Of Milkshake) 

Being a natural worrywart, I like to get things done early and approach planning with caution. It has almost always served me well; this time it came back to bite me. On a recent event in Atlanta, I didn’t know the exact time we would be done on Friday. I was up against the deadline for booking flights, so I booked an 8:45 PM return knowing that would definitely give us time to wrap up everything and make it to the airport. Boy, did it.

5:00 AM^*: Hit the gym in the hotel. At dinner two nights before, the restaurant had a burger called The Heart Attack. The Heart Attack consists of a burger topped with a double order of bacon and fried onions, a fried egg, and, instead of a bun, it is served between two grilled cheese sandwiches. Oh, and a pretty hefty side of fries. Anybody with any sense knows that eating The Heart Attack is a terrible idea, but it seemed like they put it on the menu as a personal challenge to me. Challenge accepted! I “won” (ate all the fries too), but I didn’t feel quite right the next day. So I ran 3.5 miles on the treadmill and lifted some weights, successfully burning off maybe one of the grilled cheeses and half of the fries. I feel better about myself though.

7:00 AM: Meet Joel and Marques in the meeting room to test all our equipment again and run through the agenda for the program that day. Everything looks good.

9:00 AM – 1 PM: Final day of the meeting goes off without a hitch. Striking and packing the equipment goes off without a hitch. Smooth sailing so far. Great first half of the day! You know how happy the people on the beach are at the beginning of Jaws? That’s us walking out of there.

2:00 PM: We check out of the hotel and decide to go to the airport to try to get on an earlier flight. No dice. Time to dig in – Marques gets a milkshake, Joel gets a giant plate of soul food, I get a chicken salad sandwich.

3:45 PM: We hit the Sky Club. This is the first time I have ever been in one of these, and it is kind of great. Walking in there from the regular terminal in the airport is like when it changes to color in The Wizard of Oz, but maybe better. I feel like munchkins singing and giant suckers would get old a lot quicker than plentiful power outlets and free wi-fi.

4:30 – 5:00 PM: Eat roughly my body weight in crudité.

5:10 PM: It seems really dark outside. This can’t be good. I’m just going to keep watching the College World Series and hope for the best.

5:11 PM: The DirecTV just went out.

5:20 PM: “Attention customers, the airport is closed. No flights will be arriving or departing due to the weather. We will let you know when we have more information.” Ugh.

6:15 PM: The airport reopens, and I see a couple of planes leave. At first I think “They sure are lucky to get out of here so quickly.” Then I realize they were sitting on the runway for the last hour and a half. Oof.

8:00 PM: Time to board. All signs say we will be on time, but the people piled up at every gate say we won’t.

8:20 PM: Our flight has been delayed until 9:15 because we are waiting for our crew to arrive from Richmond. 30 Minutes, no big deal.

9:15 PM: The automated voice keeps announcing that we will be leaving at 9:15, and we should be ready to board 35 minutes prior to take off. I hate the automated voice.

9:30 PM: Delay is moved back to 9:45, but still no sign of the crew. Not looking good!

9:45 PM: Flight is delayed until 11:45. Last chance to eat something. The sugar side of my frosted mini-wheat biscuit wants ice cream, but the wheat side says to eat real food. This internal debate rages until Marques decides he wants another milkshake. That sounds like a perfect compromise to me. The line at Ben & Jerry’s is ridiculous, but we take our place at the end anyway. It’s not like we have anything else to do. After waiting in line for all of about 10 seconds, the guy behind the counter shouts “Does anybody want a milkshake? Come to the front of the line.” So we got to cut in front of about 35 people in the milkshake line. I haven’t known Marques for very long, but this is EASILY the happiest I have ever seen him.

10:00 PM: That milkshake was awesome. Probably not worth being in the airport all day and night, but it definitely took some of the sting off.

10:00 – 11:00 PM: There is a guy on the PA saying stuff like “Um, I think the plane y’all are waiting for might have just, um, taken off.  That probably means it might be here in like, um, an hour or something”. I might be delirious, but this is hilarious to me. It is like a scene from a movie or a skit on SNL. I am going to mentally file it away just in case someone from a movie or SNL ever asks me for a hilarious idea. It seems like I might be the only one at the gate enjoying it though.

11:15 PM: Finally time to board. We start walking down the aisle of the plane and realize we are at the back. Not like “near the back”, the dead last row. I didn’t even know they went that far back. Marques has the window seat, but it doesn’t have a window. It’s just a wall seat. At least we are on a plane.

12:00 AM: Take Off

12:50 AM: Touch down. And that’s how a 50 minute flight becomes a 10 hour day at the airport. At least we got our milkshakes before all those suckers in line.

Posted in On the Road

Posted in Office News