CONTENTS

• While my two hour layover in Dallas' mammoth airport stretched to an uneasy four hours with a mere ten bucks in my wallet, I tried to find anyway I could to amuse myself among the hordes of young armymen and women, fat folks on cellphones and the general discomfort that is uniquely suited for airports.  I rode the tram around the airport twice, read newspapers, and finally decided to join my fellow Americans in talking on my phone while walking through large crowds.  I coined the all so clever word, "airportly" to describe my girthy countrymen I found myself surrounded by, and proceeded to make phone calls across the country to share my unending wit.
   
• After a long day at work, DMac and I heard the President of the United States describe the secret to his existence: "having low expectations" during a special about the one year anniversary of the destruction of New Orleans.  We both nearly fell over on the high expectations our esteemed leader puts out for our country and the world.
   
• One night while I was battling the cold I picked up in Carlsbad, I drank a third of a bottle of Robitussin in an effort to speed my body's natural resistance.  Instead, as I fell asleep, I heard DMac cough, who at that point caught my symptoms, and I rose my my sleep and asked if there was a monster in the room - I saw a vision of a purple and blue furry monster - but was told there was no monster and I slept through the night.
   
• Among the famous faces in among the Golf Tournament attendees (besides a Pipless Gladys Knight) was the Reverend himself - Al Sharpton.  As he sauntered through the resort's pavilions, he was escorted by bodyguards.  I was a bit apprehensive about asking for a picture, wondering if snipers were stationed on the roof at all times around him.
   
• Of course, we had a few drinks in us by the time word of the Crocodile Hunter's sudden and untimely death filtered down to us.  For days, DMac and I were glued to the TV - watching the Australian PM mourn the 'Greatest Australian' and hours of old Larry King interviews were spliced with first hand accounts from his closest friends and witnesses.  I plotted to bring flowers to the SD Zoo and drop them off at the stingray pool, but, alas, there was no stingray pool there.
   
• I was working with the youngest of the local hired hands to put up the decorations and lights in the lobby for one of the big Ballroom Events.  I asked if he could run back to pick up some gaffe tape and a light, and he met DMac back at homebase and got what he needed.  DMac inquired as to who needed the items, and our little friend responded, "The bald guy."
  It took DMac fifteen minutes to figure out I was the 'bald guy' of which he spoke. 
   
• All the world loves free crap, especially rich people.  On the final day of the week long events, the OK was given to let people take the lobby full of sponsor's products that was set up.  We were striking a room next door when we saw the maddest scene ever: people fighting over free twelve packs of cola, grabbing bellhops and filling them to the brim and teetering and falling over: all for some free chips and soda.