September 2009

Work was slow. Money was tight. Jackson was turning one. As well, my wife Alana was turning 31. Her thirtieth birthday milestone was spent taking care of a week-old baby, still in post-op recovery. So this year, all she wanted was to go to Austin for the Austin City Limits music festival. I rallied friends and family to all pitch in for 3-day passes, and we were set to go the last weekend of September. I did this two months prior in order to secure a decent deal for the tickets, but now, as we neared the show dates, and our bank account dwindled, the stress level was overcoming the excitement level. I had not had a decent gig in 6 weeks, so I saw no other option than to take the opportunity to work in LA for a week, even though it meant I would miss Alana's actual birthday, and arrive the day before traveling down to Austin for the festival. Jackson's first birthday was on Monday, I left that Thursday, and came back the following Thursday. Many annoying hurdles were required for this to happen, but we managed to overcome them and the subsequent paycheck three weeks later was worth it. But let's go back...
First, I had to cash in my frequent flier miles to get a last minute ticket, but I was just shy of the miles for a round trip, so instead payed $50 for a last minute free one-way ticket and went to LA. I needed to transfer some of my wife's miles to my account which would cost another $50 and take three days to show up on their system. But supposedly, my reservation for the return trip would remain active until the transfer went through. However, as I later found out, I would still have to pay $100 instead of $50 for my extra last minute free ticket, even though I made the reservation days before. I wrote a very dissatisfied loyal customer complaint to the airlines and got a discount voucher for a future trip. The administrative disconnect within American Airlines made me want to throw a large piece of furniture out the three story apartment where I was staying, but the follow up customer service did well enough to restrain me.

Luckily, Alana had a good birthday weekend back in Dallas with her friends and family. I didn't need anymore guilt for being out of town. I felt bad enough for not being there for her birthday and making her take care of Jackson all week by herself, while juggling an incredibly busy week at work. Props to my lady.

At the end of an incredibly brutal week for me, it was time to return home. I worked six straight 13-15 hour days during a well-timed fall heat wave in southern California. Building, driving, standing, carrying heavy shit up stairs, and sleeping on a sofa. I was so ready to go home. I made a reservation on Tuesday night for an airport shuttle to pick me up at 4:45 am on Thursday morning. After an especially tough 15 hour Wednesday shoot, I managed to go to sleep at 2 am, wake up at 4:30am, and be on the sidewalk at 4:45 am, bags in hand. The shuttle was supposed to arrive between 4:45 and 5:00. I waited. And waited. Two minutes late. Five minutes late. Ten minutes late? At fifteen minutes late, I opened my computer and pulled up my reservation. Much to my surprise, I had made the reservation for the wrong day. I panicked heavily for about twenty seconds before I managed to calm myself down and think. My first thought was to call my friend who I had been staying with and working for. I know if I begged and maybe cried a little bit, he would take me to the airport. But he had to wake up in a few hours for another grueling shoot day. And it wasn't the ever convenient Bob Hope Airport in Burbank. That wasn't available with flier miles. It was the across town international nightmare LAX, 45 minutes away. Two hours in traffic. No, there had to be another option. One that would get me there in the next hour. I hauled ass down the hill to catch a taxi. While I had been sitting on the sidewalk waiting for my shuttle, I noticed three guys roaming the street. When I first saw them, there was a car parked in the street and a lady walking to the curb. She was delivering newspapers, while her partner inside the car moved down the street. So I didn't think much of the three other guys. But as I waited, there behavior seemed more and more strange. They all wore dark clothing with hoods, and they walked up and down the street, approaching apartment building doors, then walked back to the street. I caught a glimpse of one of them downing a beer and thought, this can't be good. I thought about calling the police, but was honestly getting pre-occupied with my own unfolding dilemma. As I was discovering the reality of my situation, a police car crept down the street with a spotlight. I guess someone had called. I used to live in this neighborhood. Hollywood proper, at the bottom of the hill. As much as I remember loving it, I am definitely glad I don't anymore.

I drug my bags as fast as I could down the sidewalk while trying to hail a cab. Unfortunately, Los Angeles isn't the best place to hail a cab. I made my way to the Renaissance Hotel, past my old place, and grabbed the only taxi at the cab stand. $200 for a free airline trip. $80 for the cab. But I was going home!

I missed my family so much. I got home early Thursday afternoon, went straight to the bed and passed out. I woke up to Alana and Jackson walking into the bedroom. What a site. Jackson's face just lit up. Alana set him down and he ran to the bed. I hoisted him in the air and squeezed him tight. I don't know of any feeling that quite compares to that moment. And made it that much harder to leave him again for another three days to go to Austin. But I had to. We had to go. I squeezed him extra hard the next morning before his Grammy took him to her house, then we packed the car and left town.

We weren't too sure where were staying. We couldn't afford a hotel, and our friends we planned on staying with had a hospital emergency and had to back out of their offer. Alana borrowed some camping gear from her brother, but it was forecast to rain all weekend. I was really hoping this trip would not be a disaster. I got on the phone, and one of our other friends there happened to be in Dallas that weekend, and her apartment was empty. She was generous enough to let us stay there, and arranged for her sister to leave a spare key under the mat. I knew it was going to be a good weekend. We spent the next three days watching some really great shows with 85,000 other people. Much of it during pouring rain, then in the giant mud pit that stretched throughout the entire venue. That's what I call rock n' roll.

We returned home and settled back in to life as usual. It felt good to be home. For real this time. It's amazing how fast kids grow when they're really young. I felt like I missed out on so much during those ten days I was away from Jackson. He learned to say "uh oh" when he dropped something and had developed some new dance moves: One arm out, lips perched, and bounce. He picked up on our laughter when he would drop a toy and say 'uh oh', then would pick it up again, drop it and say 'uh oh'. And we would laugh. This would continue several times in a row, making each time that much more amusing.

I kept Jackson home on Monday and played with him, sleeping when he slept. I picked him up from daycare on Tuesday and took him inside the house. I needed to go back to the car and bring some bags in, so I set him down and shut the front door. Something I've done many times. But this time he started screaming hysterically. It's true what they say about parents being able to distinguish different cries. Hungry cry. Cranky cry. Teething in pain cry. This was a scared cry. It just about broke my heart. I had been away so much, he thought I was leaving again. I came back in scooped him and held him close. I told him that Daddy wouldn't leave him again like that for as long as I could help it. He hopped back down and made his normal rounds around the house, babbling and pointing and laughing. It was good to be home.

A month later, I received a reminder call from the airport shuttle that I was scheduled to be picked up at 4:45 in the morning. I canceled the reservation and was refunded $31.