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Firstly my apologies for the lack of updates recently. As many of you know I've been off traveling this great country of ours for work and my latest stop brought me to Springfield, MO.
After being stuck in the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport for 9 hours because not one, not two but three of my flights I was scheduled to leave on had mechanical failures (including one right before take off), I was stuck in airport long time as Tom Hanks would say (that sentence sponsored by the Terminal - now available on BetaMax for your viewing pleasure).
So after barhopping through the airport, including spending 2 1/2 hours downing Vodka Tonics in chili's and talking to the 5 or 6 people who sat next to me at the bar since I wasn't going anywhere for a while (that sentence sponsored by Snickers. Satisfy your hunger today), I finally made my way to Springfield. I hopped on my flight and it was one of those "puddle jumpers" with one seat, aisle and 2 seats, with just enough headroom to fit the cast of Little People, Big World (thanks to my sponsor, TLC). I was sitting in seat 2A...which would be first class normally, although on a puddle jumper it just means I'm sitting in the service vestibule (yes, I broke out the word vestibule. I'm working on 2 1/2 hrs of sleep here people. Thanks).
Anyway the flight attendant (male) came up to me and said we have the last name. I asked him how he pronounces his and he said Jet-tay. I said really, me too. Then he says, well I can't really say that though cause I live down south and they don't like the French much down here. Actually the funny part is I don't bother correcting people on my last name either, especially on the road. Last thing I need is to start a holy way south of the mason dixon line by sounding french, even though no one in my family speaks French nor can we directly trace any French heritage. So I just let them call me Mr. Jet.
Well Mr. Jet-tay (the flight attendant) and I chatted for a long while and he was a pleasant fellow who grew up in CT and moved to Dallas 21 years ago. He even game me an extra can of coke to take on the road. Which was much appreciated since I had missed my ride which left at 3pm and had to rent my own car. Nothing like driving in unfamiliar territory at 10pm after spending all day in the airport downing Vodka Tonics. But then again this is Missouri and I was heading towards a place I've always wanted to visit: Branson.
Branson, MO - the Las Vegas of the Midwest, without the hi-priced strippers
I mean how can you not love the entertainment capital of the midwest. Home to such family friendly acts as Tony Orlando & Dawn, Yakov Smirnoff and the Baldknobbers.
Coming down the highway (Route 86) there's about 1 million billboards advertising all of the activities you can do in Branson, like watch D rated entertainment, eat, shop and eat some more. I've seen it featured in numerous food and travel shows and have always wanted to stop to take a look. Unfortunately I was in no mood for stopping at 10pm and even more unfortunately my schedule prohibited me from truly experiencing Branson, save for the neon sign that said Branson and the huge Yakov! sign above Yakov Smirnoff's theatre:
I guess I'll just have to go pay another visit someday. Especially when I'm in the mood for some banjo jubilee and some bald guys with no teeth. Nothing says entertainment like the Baldnobbers!
(This whole post sponsored by Lunesta - who reminds you to be responsible and get more than 2 1/2 hours of sleep).
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
And now a word from our sponsors