Warning - some four letter words. I found this in my mail today and thought I would reshare it 16 years later.... Enjoy!
So, Monday morning, Paul and I set out for what should have been a
routine drive from Dave and Valerie's house to Intergalactic Airport. I
mean, both of us grew up in Houston and have been to the Big Spaceport of
the North. How hard could it be? I guess 11 hours sleep in three days
probably contributed.
So we set out. Good tunes on the radio; good conversation. We got fast
plastic breakfast. We stopped for fuel. Unfortunately, this was closer to
Austin than Houston. I would have to fill up before returning the Mustang
to its rightful owner.
So we get to Houston in record time. Both of us marvel at all of the new
stuff out in the area where Paul used to live. I take the West Belt North
exit from I-10. This is the first time I have ever driven this toll
hyperspace bypass.
Before very long at all, we came upon the 45 exit. In my mind,
Intergalactic is thirty miles north of Bumfuck. Since this is Bumfuck, we
must go North! So I exit. We get to FM 1960 and I think, "Hmm. Should
have seen a sign by now." 1960 is not that far north though, and my
faithful sidekick informs me we are not nearly far enough north of
Bumfuck, so we keep going.
When we get to planet Conroe, we know we are hosed. By now, it is 10:45,
and I am supposed to blast off at 12:30. Hmm. We stop at a refueling
depot in Conroe just to get directions. One of the natives informs me
that Bumfuck doesn't exist anymore since the Beltway hyperspace bypass
has been built, and that we need to go back to FM 1960, turn left and the
airport will be on the left. "Y'all cain't miss ut", he drawled.
So we get back on the freeway. And we are flying. And a little concerned.
We are driving in bewilderment. How can it be that we, back in our native
system, got lost so close to the spaceport? We were ruminating about that
very thing, when a semi cut us off. We looked on the back of the truck,
and Lo, we received a vision. That round face, that pointy nose, that
party hat. Paul said, "Hi, Jack!" just before I was going to say, "It's
Jack!". I respond with "You're so fired!" and we break down in
irrational, nonsensical paroxysms of laughter. We know that we will be
allright now, but our journey will still test everything we have.
We get to the 1960 exit, and we turn left. There are 40 foot high trees
lining the highway; we can't see anything much less an airport. We find a
fork in the road. I see a sign which says left is 1960, right is 1960
business. I go left, thinking we are probably almost to 59. My dutiful
sidekick-navigator ("I thought I fired you!") informs me that he saw an
airport sign at the fork. Fortunately, there is a turn. So I turn. And I
turn in the direction I think Business 1960 goes. My bad. I was supposed
to go straight. So once again, I turn around and go left.
We go for a while, and we reach a road called "Will Clayton Parkway".
Aha! I recognize that road. "We are close! Real close!" I intone. The
formerly fired sidekick says, "Um, Syd, turn right". And I looked and
there it was: George W. Bush Intergalactic Spaceport! How could I miss
it? Did I tell you about the trees? Or the lack of sleep?
So I turn right into the airport. I follow the signs that says "Budget
Rental Car Return". By now I realize that I do not have time to fill the
tank with cheap gas, I am going to have to eat $3/gallon for half a tank.
Sigh. And I am now in overmileage territory for the convertable. The
Conroe detour has cost me 50 extra miles.
The signs take me onto JFK Blvd., and now we are leaving the airport. I
never see another Budget sign. I confer with Sidekick, and when we reach
the airport entrance, we decide we missed a sign so we go back in. After
exporing Terminal A's access roads, we once again pick up Budget Rental
Car Return signs. We pay close attention and we end up on JFK Blvd.
again. I guess we did not go down far enough.
This time when we get to the airport entrance, my sharp-eyed bespectecled
sidekick spots the blue sign that says Budget. I make the appropriate
U-turn, but have a brain freeze. I miss the entrance and attempt to go in
the exit. I am hosed; there is no way in, and I will have to go toward
the airport and U-turn twice. Faithful Sidekick says, "I am sorry, Syd",
and then starts shaking the car with his laughter. I realize how
ridiculous this is and join him.
So I exit the rental car driveway, make the two U-turns, and drive into
the correct driveway this time. The car is turned in, the bus takes us to
the terminal, and I reach the jetway just as they are pre-boarding.
I truly believe it is easiest to get lost in the place you grew up in.
So here is my theory. The IAH exit off of 45 was actually the Beltway 8
exit before they built the tollway. So being on the tollway, and exiting
to 45 north, we were already passed the sign that indicated where to go
for IAH. And since it was actually a little bit further on the Tollway
for the airport, there was no sign there. So they changed everything!
I did eventually stop and ask directions! I did! I did!
Sigh.
