Texas, by God, Texas

Everything was going well until I crossed the Red River into Texas. Actually, it continued going well until I crossed the county line into Collin County. The speed limit dropped, which is always a bad sign, since the whole idea of a freeway is to get you there faster, not slower.

Not very many miles down the highway we came upon a big sign saying FREEWAY CLOSED AHEAD. The next sign a little farther down said ALL TRAFFIC MUST EXIT AT NEXT RAMP. In just a few seconds hundreds of red brake lights came on, and traffic slowed to a crawl. Many Texan red necks cranked their jacked up four wheel drive pickups over to the right and tore across the grassy median to the frontage road. I found a smooth dirt exit ramp and followed. 

Waste of time! The one lane of exiters on the frontage road soon joined back up with the rest of the traffic at the aforementioned mandatory paved exit ramp, and we just merged right back in single file again. Never once did I see a sign DETOUR or ALTERNATE ROUTE. Just eight or ten miles of bumper to bumper traffic on the one lane frontage road crawling through the stop signs at the crossroads.

I looked across to see the northbound lanes were blocked, also. Both north and south bound lanes were completely shut down, with no detour signs or alternate routes suggested. Going to have to find another route home, but I’ll think about that later.

My GPS told me it was adding 15 minutes to my arrival time at the airport, but it took more than an hour extra. Luckily, I had given myself a two hour buffer, so I wasn’t late picking up our granddaughter Chandler from Arizona.  

I will skip the time lost when I turned off on the George Bush Tollway rather than the Lyndon Johnson Freeway I meant to take. That was my mistake and as a registered soft headed Liberal, I am mightily ashamed of myself for that mistake. I got back on course by immediately exiting the tollway and taking the frontage road to Preston Road south, where I joined up with the LBJ freeway. 

I entered the north entrance to Dallas-Fort Worth Airport and looked for a sign directing me to the American Airlines terminal. I found the sign. It said American Airlines terminals A-B-C-D-E. Well, that was really helpful! I missed the exit on  the first terminal, was not in the right lane for the next one, so I found myself entering Terminal D parking. I went round and round trying to guess at which way to turn as I came to forks in the road, none of which seemed to indicate where the parking was. I finally found a ramp into a parking garage, found a space. and went into Terminal D.

I took note that I was parked on Level 4, Row M. 

I went into the terminal to find the big screen listing the arrivals and departures so I could find out which Terminal and Gate I should go to to meet her when she got off the plane. I must have walked a couple of miles trying to find such a screen. I finally found it (I think there was only one in the whole building) and it was almost all departures. I didn’t take a lot of thinking to see that most of the departures were leaving Terminal D and most of the arrivals were arriving at Terminal C.

Do they really unload on one side and load back up on the other side? Never in my life have I ever seen another airport do that. Most load the plane in the same spot they unloaded it. I don’t understand how it would be beneficial to have to taxi empty planes from one side of the airport to the other side to load the passengers, but I keep forgetting I’m in Texas, by God, Texas.

There is a certain simple logic in having Departures leaving Terminal D, and planes Coming in to terminal C, I guess.

I tried to walk across the airport to Terminal C, but found that this is impossible unless you go through security and go through the skywalk high in the air. The terminals are divided by islands of parking facilities and I did not want to try to get through security with a pocket knife with Carolyn’s name on it in my pocket, and besides, I didn’t have a ticket.

I decided the simplest thing to do would be to go back and get in the car and drive across to Terminal C parking. So I drove around the circle drives until I was thoroughly disoriented, found a sign to Terminal C parking and dove into the entrance road. Which, like all the others, circles around to the other side to enter. There was a bunch of construction there which forced me to merge with some busses, but when I got past the orange cones and barrels I saw a sign with a P on it and tore up the ramp to find some parking. I entered the parking lot and it was almost empty. 

It looked like I might have been in the employees lot or something, but I didn’t see any signs telling me I couldn’t park there, so I pulled right in. I got out and tried to find a sign telling which Level and Row I was on, but there wasn’t any. Who cares? I can see Terminal C one level below, so I went down the stairs and into the terminal.

The Arrivals board in Terminal D said an airplane was coming in from PHX at 3:30 at Gate C-15. I went over to look at a short list of arrivals there at the baggage area, and nothing was coming in from Phoenix.

But there was a nice lady sitting behind a desk that said baggage assistant, or something close. I told her I was there to pick up my granddaughter flying in from PHX and didn’t know which Gate she was coming in on. She checked her screen and told me that C-15 was the correct place, and she should be arriving in a few minutes. I would have been about ten minutes late, but Chandler had called me to say the plane was running an hour late.

I sat down and waited for about 15 minutes, and my cell phone rang in my pocket. I answered and it was Chandler telling me she was waiting by the baggage claim. I asked her which one, and she told me C-4. I told her to hang on, I would walk down to see her at C-4. Evidently the employees at DFW are just as confused as the rest of us.

To make a long story short would be to miss half of the story. We found each other, got her luggage, and walked over to the parking garage. but the car wasn’t there. We circled the front spaces where I know I parked it, clicking on the horn button on my key fob, with no sound happening at all.

After trying another level or so at that garage, we walked over to the Terminal sidewalk and went in an adjacent garage, hoping I had forgotten which parking facility I had parked in. After walking several miles (it felt like) with no luck. a cab driver pulled up and asked if we had trouble. I told him I had lost my car. He told us to get in and he would help. I was ready for help! 

He drove us past every row and level in this garage, with no luck at all. So he drove over to the next garage and we did the same thing with no luck. How can this be? He drove outside that garage, and I told him I had driven in after going past a construction area. He circled around until he got on the same road, dodged the busses just like I did, nearly missed the hard turn right into the garage, but he drove us right to the car. 

I had parked in some private parking for the Hyatt Regency Hotel. He had me sign a form acknowledging his help. He explained that the airport paid him to do this. I already had a twenty rolled up in my hand, so I gave it to him anyway. I felt I got off pretty cheap. I did say I was a registered soft headed Liberal, didn’t I?

He told me he would lead me out to the exit, since the one from that level was blocked by construction. He slowly led me through the valet parking lanes at the hotel entrance and out the other side onto the highway, pulled to the side and waved me by. 

I accelerated into the highway to the toll plaza, paid with my credit card, then headed north looking for I-635. I saw the sign on the left of the overhead signs, and as I merged to the left, I swear the ramp to I-635 went off to the right. I tell you, the skies are bluer in Texas now! I told Chandler if she heard any language she didn’t know, it would be best not to repeat any of it. She said she thought she knew them all. I was afraid I might shock her, but she was laughing at me.

I was soon on Tollway 121, so I peeled off to the frontage road and continued beside the tollway until I saw the sign for I-35E to Denton. I made up my mind to take it, since I know the way from Denton to Durant by heart now. 

The rest of the trip home was uneventful.

I believe if Texas wants to secede from the US again, we oughta let ‘em. It would be a big improvement to the country. 

On second thought, I’ve got another granddaughter living near Austin. Isn’t that in Texas?

After all that hassle, the day ended beautifully. When Chandler walked into Carolyn’s room her face lit up with a big smile and she held out her arms for a hug. It’s amazing how fast a smile will fix everything wrong with the world!