The Eleventh Hour: August 2006 In my Case, It's Not the Journey! Written by Jeremy Cook
So here I sit on a plane again, putting my final thoughts for this issue onto the screen, and here's what's coming to mind right now. How the %&$# do airlines expect somebody that is 6-foot 1-inch tall and 210 pounds to fit into a 2-foot space? I mean seriously, I don't fit into an airplane seat-it's ridiculous! No matter how much planning I put into it, I still always seem to get the middle seat. Right now, I'm wedged in between, shall we say, a large man and woman, and they both think they're entitled to the armrests that I would like to be using right now. As if that weren't bad enough, my seat seems to be broken; it will only recline about an inch. Meanwhile, Mr. Cool in front of me appears to have gotten the bonus recliner, because he just leaned back farther than usual-sending my laptop off of the tray and onto my lap.
I also have a problem with the Orange County Airport. It's better than LAX, but the flights I need always leave at around 6:45 a.m. The next flights out are never until like 11 a.m., which would waste an entire day if I took those, so the crack of dawn it is. But here's the problem: Thanks to Sandy Cohen, The Real Housewives of the OC, and all the other south OC residents, there is a noise ordinance that stipulates that a plane cannot take off out of the OC airport until after 7 a.m. How does the airport solve this little dilemma? By (and I'm serious) selling all the early flights at 6:45 and letting them jockey for position, leaving me and all the other suckers who got up at 5 a.m. sitting in line for a half-hour or more before take off.
My other complaint is with the crappy food I end up eating when I travel. When I have time, I usually leave the show grounds so at least I don't have to eat "carnie" food, but Shoney's, What-a-Burger and Krystal aren't really any healthier. The Beastie Boys hit the nail in the head with Fatburger "way out west" but White Castle certainly is not "the best". In fact, I asked the chain-smoking elderly woman who was sitting next to me at the counter at Waffle House this morning (who also happened to be my server) and she agreed. My early evenings (when everyone else goes to a nice dinner) are spent conducting photo shoots, leaving all of the aforementioned eateries as my only options once the summer sun has set.
So I sit here, completely cramped and malnourished, wondering why the hell I do it. But the answer comes to me quickly-you and your trucks. Who else gets to travel everywhere and see all of the best trucks in the country in person? I am aware that I am one of the privileged few. All of this traveling has made it possible to become friends with many of you. There are shows that I fly to early, just to see what's going on in the shop, photograph a truck, or simply to cruise around the show. There are people that I consider good friends in Northern California, Arizona, Washington, Tennessee, and all over Texas that I may never have met otherwise. As bad as the flight or the food or the hotel or any of the other typical crap associated with traveling gets, it is all forgotten when I meet up with an old friend, make a new one, or happen upon a killer truck I haven't seen before.
People always say that it's the journey not the destination, and while that philosophy might hold true for life in general, it's definitely not the case for a magazine editor.
-J Drop me a line and let me know how the truck scene is treating you,
I totally agree on the whole travelling aspect, I mean I used to travel for a living doing what I do best ( welder ) .. I also agree with the guy in the previous article I read, which was about a guy who didnt have his 'ride' all blinged out persay. You happened to have one of those in your article, if I was to guess a late 60's very early 70's model truck in problaly factory paint with some scars of recent work .. Which is what I rather look at, than to hear about you complain about the airports in your neigherborhood .. I am fortunite enough to know that if I was college educated and love the job Im at, then I wouldnt complain about not being able to cook .. I mean how hard is it to put some potatoes, carrots, onion soup mix ( liptons) , and a good size rump roast in a freakin crock pot ! Go to the show and come back and eat it ! If I had your job, I would be in heaven, not only do you not need the money to build a wicked ass custom truck ( cause you could get sponsered ) you dont have the worrys of and everyday wrench turner like myself wondering how your going to start a buisness ( for custom vehicles) because you cant afford to get your six custom creations to the show .. I would like to see you work 12 hrs a day then put 6 or 7 hrs into your garage, then wake up to a woman saying something like ' Can I drive your truck to work?'
Posted by William, Whose homepage is N/A on September 27, 2006 at 23:39
So here I sit on a plane again, putting my final thoughts for this issue onto the screen, and here's what's coming to mind right now. How the %&$# do airlines expect somebody that is 6-foot 1-inch tall and 210 pounds to fit into a 2-foot space? I mean seriously, I don't fit into an airplane seat-it's ridiculous! No matter how much planning I put into it, I still always seem to get the middle seat. Right now, I'm wedged in between, shall we say, a large man and woman, and they both think they're entitled to the armrests that I would like to be using right now. As if that weren't bad enough, my seat seems to be broken; it will only recline about an inch. Meanwhile, Mr. Cool in front of me appears to have gotten the bonus recliner, because he just leaned back farther than usual-sending my laptop off of the tray and onto my lap.
