December 26, 2006 – Liftoff

OK, so it was the big day. We were going to Brazil. We were excited. We were nervous. This was all new to us. We’d never left the country before. Yeah, sure, we’d been to Toronto, Mexico, and Dearborn, but those didn’t count. This was the real deal. Don’t drink the water. Hold on to your passport. Get your shots. If anyone asks, you’re Canadian. Make sure your tray tables are locked and in their upright positions.

Let’s do this.

As an aside, I’d been fighting a winter virus for the prior few weeks. It was a holiday gift from my family. I thought it had just about run its course, but on the way to the airport it reared its ugly head again. Well, not quite its head. Anyway, a quick stop at the CVS for a bag full of Imodium & Pepto, and we were on our way. You know, lots of people come back from South America with dysentery. I decided to turn the tables and take it there with me. I’m considering it my own little battle against the trade deficit.

Patty and I made it to the airport and waited for Ray, Donna & Jill. My stomach already felt like I’d spent the weekend in Tijuana. Patty said we should call off the trip. I reminded her of the non-refundable nature of the tickets and the non-refundable nature of my partial Scottish heritage. I reminded her that there are doctors in Brazil. (later we found out that Carolina is related to over half of them.) We agreed to soldier on. The Donnellys showed up. Jill lost her driver’s license (we hadn’t even left our own area code yet). I started to feel better. Germans have a word for that. It’s schadenfreude. I’m a little German, too.

When we flew to Atlanta, Jill & Donna sat behind us. Jill kicked the seat the entire time. She’s so infantile. I wanted to throw Imodium at her to make her stop, but I’m much more mature than she is. I decided to never give her back her driver’s license.

We got to Atlanta and hooked up with Donna’s family: Max, Lois, Jerry and Bonnie. I really don’t know if I’m spelling any of those names correctly. After trying to read Portuguese signs and menus for 10 days, nothing looks right. Anyway, they seemed like good people. Donna’s sister, Lois, picked on Jill immediately. I liked her the best! We finally boarded the 767 to Rio. It was big. It was full. We got blankets, pillows, ear plugs, and Zsa Zsa Gabor sleeping masks. The seats were better than I expected, and Jill wasn’t sitting behind me. I was sure the nine and a half hour flight would be a cakewalk.

After 4 hours into the flight, I realized that the seats had morphed into upholstered cords of firewood. My ass was so sore, I felt like I had spent my first week in prison. I wondered how people slept in these things? There was a guy somewhere behind me and to the left coughing up body parts. It sounded like he was passing his spleen. I didn’t want to, but I felt compelled to turn around and look. I saw poor Ray sitting right next to him, and I’m pretty sure there was a little chunk of that guy’s spleen on Ray’s shoulder. The in-flight projector kept showing the trip statistics. It was like a bomb timer ticking off seconds in super slo-mo. I would have rather not known. The information was only there to taunt me. Then old Coughy McSpleenless hacked up what I presume was his liver. Again, poor Ray. I searched for the Airborne tablets? I wanted to stick them up my nose.

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