9:28AM BST - At the Airport
"Are you an evil supervillain bent on world domination? [ ] yes [ ] no"
We both have to think hard before deciding which box to tick next to the bit about "seeking entry to engage in criminal or immoral activities". ... and as for being involved in genocide... does pouring a kettle of boiling water into the anthill in our back garden last summer count? All questions we'll both have to answer before we get off the plane.
Already the trip is raising as many questions as it answers. We may find out what Kool Aid is; we may even gain insight into the American phenomenon of "cooties" -- but now we're wondering why there is no seat "I" on Aeroplanes: we're on seats 38J and 38H. Summat to do with foreign alphabets, or maybe I and J looking similar? I remember it causing confusion on previous journeys. Perhaps we'll hassle a stewardess about it.
The other question is, why if we're flying to Chicago, are we setting off from Brum Airport's "EuroHub" terminal? Debbie's suggested that perhaps the terminal's name is nothing to do with the many flights it does to European cities, and perhaps it's sponsored by a hubcap manufacturer called EuroHub, or something.
4:30PM, Chicago time
What is that? Eastern? Central?Whatever.
We bought another book at the airport - I and Claudius by Clare de Vries. It's another "I drove around the USA" travelogue, with the gimmick that this particular London journalist took her cat with her. The cat keeps arguing with her - Claudius is clearly Tyler Durden from Fight Club... The book starts badly - the first sentence isn't one ("Lying in bed, ermintruminating over my life"), and the first page also contains the phrases "hair loobrushingly angry" and "flibbertigibbeting from job to job" -- but it seems to settle down after that. I'm halfway through.
Neo Geo Pocket helped pass the time - within 20 minutes of takeoff I'd (finally) beaten the finals in Capcom vs SNK Card Fighters Clash. There's much more left to do there though.
One of the passenger advice documents on the plane explained how passengers seated next to emergency exits should be prepared to assist other passengers in the event of an emergency. Paraphrasing:
You must ask to be reseated if you are diabled, infirm, or if you do not understand these instructions.Much hilarity all round.
There was a godawful rom-com showing on the plane called Here on Earth, although it did star John Hartman, who has two thirds of a really cool name. The all-American ambience of the opening diner scene was marred somewhat by Carmarthen's finest, the Stereophonics' Pick a Part that's New playing on the jukebox. After that I got bored and read the book instead.
Mission Impossible was bound to be ruined for the aeroplane cut, so I didn't watch that, although I started paying attention for the bit where the helicopter gets dragged into the chunnel by a speeding EuroStar.
Max the pilot's professionalism could not compensate for the "lyrically incorrect" show playing on the audio system. The gimmick here was that they played songs which someone, somewhere, once misheard the lyrics to. So, apparently it sounds like "Hurry up and bring your juice box money" in "Love Shack", and Paul Young sang "Every time you go away, you take a piece of meat with you". 'Tis fortunate I was wearing my corset, for a feared my sides might split.
Queues for border control done with, we strode around O'Hare airport for, um, a while, before eventually finding the train station. They had a machine vending travel passes, and, get this, a man whos job it was to use the machine for you. Now there's job creation for you. I think maybe we were supposed to tip him, but frankly if he'd just stood out of the way I could have done it myself.
We got on the train, and promptly realised we had no idea what stop we wanted. No problem -- a friendly old woman collared us, sorted our route out, then told us all the places we should see while we're in Chicago. We won't have time for all of them.
Once out of the subway system, we got hopelessly confused, until we realised that the big street names hanging down the middle of junctions indicate the street you're crossing not the street you're on. Thanks, everyone, for not telling us this when you were pumping us full of USA tips before we set off.
... and now we're settled in our rather pleasant hotel room, enjoying some respite from the heat (it's humid, but not much warmer than a hot British day -- things will get much worse as we move South and West). The TV claims to be able to play SNES games, but I can't seem to find anything resembling a controller, and it's $6.95 per hour, so I'm not investigating any further.
Debbie's discovered that there's an American Big Brother that's at about the same stage as the British one -- on Wednesday the second person gets booted out.
Apparently there's a "Venetian Night" on tonight, where a load of lit-up
boats parade down the harbour, followed by fireworks. Once we're a little
rested, showered and refreshed, we'll go and get some supper, wander down
to the lakefront, see the fireworks, maybe from the pier, then get some
sleep. It's 11PM at home already. And I got up at 6:30. Bah.