Once again, a group of us all went travelling together. This time, heading home, instead of the east coast(ish). A group of about 10 of us were flying from Florida, through Chicago on our way home. Our layover in Chicago involved a plane switch, so, despite my decision to "step off the plane" and stay for a day, I walked with the group to the next gate.

As we arrived at the new gate, Andy pondered, "I wonder if we flew Shamu."

The rest of us thought about Andy's pondering for a bit, and concluded that yes, based on the whale and underwater decoration in our previous plane, we were on the Shamu plane.

"But which one?" Andy continued.

Uh...

Turns out, there are three Shamu planes. I didn't have anything else to do. Dad wasn't going to be at the airport for another hour or so, so I told the group, to most everyone's surprise, that I'd go see. I hadn't told anyone other than Andy and Chookie, oh, and the rep at the gate counter, that I wasn't continuing on home, so most everyone was concerned I'd make it back in time for my flight. Given my flight is tomorrow, I think I'll be okay...

So, I hoofed it back over to the gate we had left, to check out the plane. Yes, indeed, we had just flown Shamu:

But WHICH ONE?

I walked up to the nearest gate agent, and asked, "Hey, so, do you know which Shamu that is?" pointing to the plane out the window.

"That? Shamu? Oh, yes, let's see," he said. In his best VOA, answered, "that's the fourth Shamu."

I paused.

"Your website says there are only three."

He paused back.

"Oh, yeah, right. That's the third one."

Oooooooooh-kaaaaaaaaaay. So, apparently he didn't know either.

We did, however, fly one of them!

Andy had bought a big red ball a few days ago. He was playing with it at the fields. He was playing with it at the villas and on the beach. It was used as a foot rest by some teammates. It became the object of much mirth and entertainment as it was snagged by some teammates, often from under the feet of other teammates.

One morning, say, Saturday's morning, Andy took the ball to the fields and, rather than take it INTO the port-a-potty he was about to use, he set it down outside the port-a-potty before going inside to do his business.

When he came out, it was gone.

Sunday, when he and a group of teammates were at the fields to watch finals, Andy noticed a group of three women bouncing the ball around amongst them. He quickly ran up, grabbed the ball and called out, "Thank you, ball thieves!"

Surprised, the three tried to explain how the ball was just sitting there, it was abandoned, no they really weren't ball thieves.

Uh huh. Riiiiiiiiiight.

After the tragic disappearance and the joyful reappearance of the big red ball, Andy couldn't bear to be without it. Packing it in his luggage, however, might be difficult.

Andy managed to find a way.

How many engineers does it take to get gas in a rental car on the way to Tampa Bay airport without getting lost?

From today's experience, more than 4.

Paul, Warren and a few others were driving back from the store when they saw a group of McCain supporters waving signs on the side of the road. One of them was young (think twenties instead of the expected sixties of most Republicans), which surprised Paul. So, he leaned out to ask the guy what was up.

He had to shout, however, since they were on a busy road.

Paul shouted out of the car: You're so young! Why are you voting for McCain?
The young supporter shouts back: What? We can't hear you!
Paul: You're so young! Why are you voting for McCain?
Supporter: What? Can't hear you!
Paul: But I can hear you!
Supporter: What?
Paul: Is this some one way sound barrier?
Supporter: Yes!

Last night, with the tournament over for the team, I decided, okay, fine, I'd head out to the beach. I've spent most of the tournament on the fields or in the villa, not really wanting to go out to the beach when it was cold. Funny that, Florida, cold.

Bah, and went.

So I wandered out to the beach, less wandering, more skipping.

I REALLY should have clued in when I met not 5, but 10 ultimate players walking away from the beach.

Nope. I didn't.

I went through the archway under the condos next to the villas and stopped.

This is NOT what I saw:

Instead, I saw hundreds of people crowding the beach. There were at least five teams hanging out, drinking, playing double disc court, running around, and playing whatever throwing, hitting or shouting game drunk people can make up.

There were so many people I couldn't find any teammates for a good two minutes, having to scan each team carefully.

Funny how all athletic, half naked men all look the same on a Florida beach.

I eventually found my team, and was happy for a moment.

Until in nearly the same moment I realized that everyone around me was drunk, and it was raining.

Yep, about right, I thought, and went back to the villa.

I had some stats to finish up.