Bowling, The Wright Way - March 17, 1998 by Don Wright
A Funny thing happened on the way to ...

I just returned from the Bowling Writers Association of America (BWAA) conference in Reno and although I had a great time I was wondering if I was ever going to get there. Here are some observations with the Wright perspective.

My day started at 5 a.m. as G.G. and I prepared for the 60-mile drive to the Austin, Texas airport. My flight was scheduled to depart about 8:20 a.m. and we arrived in plenty of time. I checked my bags and headed for the gate. After a few minutes at the gate we were informed the flight would be delayed because of battery problems and that a plane with repair parts was enroute to Austin from Dallas. After nearly one hour we were informed the flight had been canceled and we would be rescheduled on a later flight and we needed to go to the main ticket window, recheck our bags and they were sorry for any inconvenience. I was rescheduled to depart about 1:45 p.m.

I made my way back to the main ticket area, found a seat and waited for the line to go down. While waiting, all the electrical power in the airport went out and we were sitting there with lighting powered by battery and generator. The power was restored in about five minutes and after nearly two hours I was able to recheck my bags to another flight and I again returned to the boarding gate. While seated at the gate, my original airplane was still parked at the original gate, but a new departure time and destination was posted on the wall. During a conversation with a passenger ticketed on that plane I told him of the problem earlier. He didn't seem too happy about that. While waiting for my plane an announcement was made that my original plane had been delayed because of mechanical problems, and now the man really didn't feel good about it. My plane boarded and although scheduled to depart at 1:45 p.m., it actually departed at 2:20.

The airline, whose name I won't mention, but is similar to what is found at the mouth of most rivers, to compensate us for the inconvenience, upgraded our seating to first class and gave us a $12 meal chit for dinner.

Upon arrival in Dallas I had a six-hour lay over. Fortunately, I had a good book and with my $12 chit I headed for the fanciest restaurant in DFW, TGI Fridays. Once seated I was approached by the typical Great American waitress who shook her head and said "Hi guys, can I get you a drink?" Since I was the only "guy" at the table, I nodded across at an empty seat and said, "you ready to order?" It went over her head, but nevertheless I ordered a meal and a drink, paid with my chit and a few dollars more and left.

I finally got on my plane, first class, too and had an aisle seat, row 1. Believing I would have a person next to me I didn't hook my seat belt and sure enough here she was. A middle-aged woman with a walking stick pointed to the seat and I took that to mean she wanted to sit there. I stood up, she moved in, dropped her walking stick, flopped down in the seat and promptly put her feet on the carpeted wall in front of us.

I got to watch several teenagers with various parts of their bodies pierced, wearing clothes that could be used to cover vintage cars bang their oversized back packs into most of the seated passengers.

On a trip in which I was to arrive in Reno at noon, I arrived at midnight. Twenty hours had elapsed and I had notes written on nearly every piece of paper in my pocket.

The convention was great and I had a great time with some good friends. I think we accomplished a lot and I had the good fortune to be elected as a director of the Southern Bowling Writers Association.

The American Bowling Congress Hall of Fame induction was a wonderful experience. Barry Asher and Darold Meisel were inducted in the performance category and Jack Reichert, retired president and CEO of Brunswick was inducted in the Meritorious Service category. I was fortunate enough to get a photograph of four of bowling's greatest bowlers standing side by side. Dick Weber, Ray Bluth, Don Carter and Bill Lillard. What a thrill and what wonderful gentlemen.

But, alas it was over and I had to catch that mouth of the river airlines back to Texas. From Reno to Dallas it was fairly uneventful. From Dallas to Austin was another story. Unfortunately, my seat was in row 32. I should have known better when I bought the ticket having flown so many times, but row 32 is nearly sitting on the planes tail. It was an old plane, modified from the two seats on either side of the aisle to one with three seats on one side and two on the other. Now, as passengers, we're not supposed to be smart enough to know that for the airline to do that they had to make the seats smaller. That would be okay if I were a yuppie, generation whatever, but I am a full figured Texas Bubba and I am here to tell you two Bubba's can't fit in a two-seater that size even if you raise the armrest.

Since I was practically in the last seat on the plane, I was the last person off. G.G. was there to meet me, all smiles and unaware of my great adventure. A welcome home hug and kiss and I forgot all about my travels. That is until today.