Delta Strikes Again.

The other day, my husband and I flew from Nashville to Los Angeles for a show at Pepperdine University.  We flew Delta Airlines, as usual, since we have gold status with them and we love the perks.  I mean, what’s not to love about 3 free bags a piece without having to pay overweight fees, free upgrades, priority boarding, and getting through security faster?  I can’t think of anything not to love...until Delta stole my new coat. 

Here’s the story: We boarded our flight to LAX in Atlanta (after being re-routed because of a delayed flight from Memphis) and took our middle seats. I took my coat and placed in the overhead bin above my seat and took my bag and tucked it under the seat in front of me.  I was in the middle seat and didn’t want to have to get up 10 times to get stuff in and out of it. Fortunately, our flight wasn’t full and there were a bunch of seats available together (we are never seated together for some reason) so we re-located about 10 seats back at the back of the plane. There we stayed for the next 4.5 hours. 

Upon our arrival into LAX around 6pm, we gathered our stuff and were the last people off the plane. We walked down to baggage claim where we were concerned that our bags wouldn’t be because of our last minute flight re-route, and began the 30 minute wait until they finally popped down the conveyer belt.  It wasn’t until I got in the rental car shuttle that I realized I didn’t have my coat. 

45 minutes had passed since I had gotten off the plane. 

I told the shuttle driver to let me off and proceeded to run back up the stairs to the ticketing counter and from terminal 3 to 5 at LAX. Anyone who’s ever been to LAX knows that terminal 3 isn’t all that close to terminal 5. After getting up to the ticketing counter, I was told that I had to go back downstairs to the lost luggage counter because when things are left on the plane, they are immediately taken down to that counter. That’s “Delta procedure”.  

So I ran down to the lost luggage counter where I was told that 55 minutes had passed since I had gotten off the plane and they would call up to the gate to see where my jacket was. After a brief conversation, I was told that a few things had been taken from the plane, but that the plane had been moved to the hangar and she didn’t know what had happened to those items.  

For real?

I was then assured that it should turn up since there were things taken from the plane and that I could come and pick it up when I flew out a few days later. They had my information and I left the airport. This was mistake #2. (Mistake #1 was leaving the coat on the plane in the first place).

The day before we were to fly out, we drove back from San Diego and went to see if it was there.  I was told by the lost luggage lady that unless I received a phone call, then my coat hadn’t turned up.  She was confused why I would even think it would be there and that things left on the plane rarely show up there. But when I asked if it was “Delta procedure” to take forgotten items from the gate to that counter, she replied, “Yes it is.”. Hmmm...

I was then told that there was nothing she could do and that I needed to call Delta or get on Delta.com to file a complaint. So I called Delta. The first woman I talked to at Priority Services said that there wasn’t anything that she could do since she wasn’t the complaints department.  She was friendly and gave me the numbers that I needed to call and then said that she hoped I could find my coat, but that it’s “unlikely since so many things get stolen when they are left on the plane.  No joke.

So I call Delta helpline #2, and after going through the automated prompts, the machine says that things left on a plane are out of their control. Click. Hung up on me.

After having lit up Twitter with my complaint, I get a reply from @deltaassist telling me that they are sorry that this happened to me and here’s the link to file a formal complaint. Thanks for the “assistance” anonymous twitter gopher.

Helpline #3 is me begging the automated machine to let me speak to a representative. The woman I get tells me the same thing. There is a procedure that’s supposed to be followed, but it’s not their problem. I was told that I could file a formal complaint and then the “higher-ups” at corporate would take care of it. Upon hearing this, I told the girl that I would bet Delta gets thousands of these “formal complaints” a day about similar things and that my assumption was that this was nothing more than a formality to get me to shut up.  I told her that if the procedure is to take things left on the plane to the lost baggage claim and they fail to do that, then the only thing I can conclude is that I have a cute coat and someone decided to steal it, and now I was getting the run around to make me shut up. 

After putting me on hold, she asked me what my jacket cost. I told her it was $100. She informed me that I would receive a check from them in 25 business days for $100 and I could buy a new one. Aw thanks.

I will gladly take my $100, but I can’t get that coat again. And the fact of a lost/stolen coat is not what I take issue with.  I take issue with a lack of care and laziness to do ones job. If you have a procedure, there’s no reason that you should have a problem following it.  Delta is a huge company that I devote thousands and thousands of airline miles to, but if I can’t trust that my things are safe when I make a mistake, why stick with them?  I am frustrated that big companies give you the run around and try to pacify the angry public with ineffective “solution” tactics. If the job was done right the first time, fewer people would be upset...but that’s just not the case. It’s like big companies are gluttons for punishment. 

I wish that Delta would have been helpful and that it didn’t take 4 phone calls to different  people and 2 trips to the lost baggage to have someone do something about it. I wish that my coat hadn’t been stolen. And I wish that integrity and customer service weren’t things that have been lost over the decades. 

Bad form Delta. 

I Am An Addict.

I am one of those people that every November (I’m an overachiever) writes out a long list of “New Years Resolutions” with the intention of becoming a better person.  Yet, just like the rest of the world, when I realize on January 2nd that my intentions are destined to be a disaster, I find myself already on the path to giving up without any reason for a fight.  

I am a typical resolutioner in the sense that my resolutions tend to revolve around losing weight, working out more, reading my Bible, and following through on more projects.  So far, I have managed to gain 3 pounds, not step foot in the gym once, fell asleep reading through a Bible passage, and have 4 projects started and you guessed it...nothing finished.  Talk about failure. Now I have the rest of the year to wallow in my early failures and hope for better luck next time. 

Let’s get this straight: I want to follow through.  I want to have the discipline to do what I need to do to accomplish goals.  The problem is that I’m lazy.  Things are too hard.  I like to call it the “American Way”: want it all hoping that someone else will do it for me.  But like they tell you in AA, the first step in recovery is recognizing that you’re an addict.  

I am an addict.  

I am an addict of desire without follow-through.  An addict of creativity without execution.  An addict of wondering why everyone else “gets” and I “get not.”  

Now that I realize these things, I am lucky to understand that there is a solution to this problem and it starts with me.  It takes some hoodspuh to initiate change in myself and my mindset.  I have to forget the “diet starts Monday” mentality and just do.  Seems like such a simple solution: just do. But that’s what makes it so difficult.  We complicate, over-analyze, and whine making it harder and harder. We set ourselves up to fail before we’ve ever started.  

Even though I’ve already managed to “fail” by societies’ standards, I have decided to try again.  I can’t succeed if I only allow one failure a year.  So in my attempt to reclaim my New Years’ Resolutions, I have listing them here publicly.  I am giving it another go. And I may fail again.  But if and when that happens, I will not give up.  I will regroup and start over as many times as it takes. 

Here it goes:

1. Run 2-3 times a week no less than 2 miles with a goal of the CMA 1/2 marathon in April.
2. lose the last 30 pounds before the summer. (I managed 30 pounds down from April-December last year)
3. Blog more often.
4. Take a vacation that doesn’t include Twitter. 
5. Hold an art show in the fall. 
6. Get website/new branding up and running
7. Paint one new painting every month (starting in Feb since I’m not home the rest of Jan)

There it is.  A small but conquerable list. And the journey begins.

Looking Forward

2010 comes to an end in just a few short hours.  Another year to pack away in the books.  Some had the year of their lives while some struggled to just get by. Either way, I know that everyone loves to look forward to a new year.  It will bring new opportunities, new ideas, and new experiences to everyone.  

I look forward to the new year every year.  Sometimes it’s because I had a really crappy year that did little more than bring heartache, disappointment, and frustration, and sometimes it’s because I had such a great year and can’t possibly imagine what could make another year better.  

This year has been one of heartache, disappointment, and frustration for me.  Everything from cancelled shows and trips last second, piling debts that were intended to be paid off, frustration with work and people, and to top the year off, an unexpected death in the family.  I have wept, wondered, questioned, and screamed on more than one occasion in 2010.  But I have also been hopeful.  Hopeful that things would change...get better.  I know that 2011 isn’t some sort of “reset” button that automatically makes things better, but at least we have a starting place.  

I have high-hopes for 2011.  I have high-hopes every year, but this year is especially high.  I want certain things so much that I didn’t even bother waiting until the “official new year” for them to start.  I got a jump start on continuing my weight loss (30 pounds down with 30 to go), and a major jump start on creating some new products for Kate Harris Art in 2011.  

So here’s to looking forward to new chances, new opportunities, new jobs, new bodies, and anything else you could possibly have!  2010 is in the books!

Today.

Today I am cynical and restless.

Today I want to curl up in a ball and weep my way through a bowl of ice cream. 

Today I wonder, "How did I get here...and when will it too, pass?"

Today I feel unattractive and inadequate. 

Today I am honest.  Today I feel deeply.  Today I am lonely.

I pray that tomorrow brings peace, hope, and desire.  

I pray that today is just that: only today.

The Monotony of the Christmas Season

I feel like there's tons of people that start off Christmas blogs, letters, and twitter posts with the phrase..."that time of year again." As witty as some people think that their being, this simple phrase echos emptiness, discontent, and boredom.  When did Christmas get monotonous for us?

I will be the first to admit that when it comes to holidays, I am not the most enthusiastic.  My favorites include the likes of Halloween, Thanksgiving, and New Years, but it hasn't always been Christmas. If I were to be completely honest, I would say for years I found Christmas somewhat stressful and annoying.  There was the need to keep up in the decoration department by having our house look like it threw up Christmas cheer, buy gifts that we didn't have the money for for people that we didn't think deserved them, there were too many parties to go to, and Christmas music was a never-ending redundancy of 65 versions of "Jingle Bells" and "Oh, Holy Night".  For years, I couldn't wait until Christmas was just over and done with.  It was just same ole, same ole.

For the first time, I understand that Christmas is so much more than we make it out to be. We, as a culture, have taken a great celebration and made it monotonous. We are creatures of habit and masters of tradition, never really taking the time to think and wonder.  We have stripped the true joy of the season and replaced it with cheap imitation in the likes of Apple computers, PS2s, and diamond earrings.  And yet all we are really doing is going through the motions.

It's not the Griswald Family Christmas that we all feel is inevitable because of our wacky families.  I mean, seriously, who doesn't have at least 1 Cousin Eddie in the family?  It's about thoughtfulness, quality time with friends and family, eating (we were all thinking it), and realizing that not only is it just the day that we celebrate the birth of our God; it's the day that we celebrate the changing of the world and of our futures.  It's about hope. Until I could realize that Christmas is about hope, how could it not be monotonous, boring, and stressful?  Those feelings are conjured up because I had the wrong perspective because of things that don't matter.

I was listening to a podcast earlier this week, and one of the people on it commented on the difference between presents and gifts.  A present is something that is given with the understanding that something is to be given in return.  A gift is given with no strings attached.  When I heard that, I couldn't believe that it could be so simple.  I have given very few gifts, and a boatload of presents over the years.  And yet God had sent His only son.  The single most selfless gift that could have ever been given, and I had forgotten.  How could I have been so daft?

All this being said, I have decided to reclaim Christmas for myself and my family.  I don't want to just go through the motions of buying meaningless things and giving them away half-heartedly.  I want to create,  listen to the Rat Pack, and not worry about getting in return.  I want to relish in the changing of the course of history for us.  I want to remember the hope that was given with no strings attached.  And I want to celebrate without restriction!

Merry Christmas.

Blessed Be Egypt, My People

After my post from yesterday, I am happy to announce that I went to bed at 8 Egypt time, and slept for an uninterrupted 13 hours straight.  I woke up feeling like a new person!  And it's a good thing that I had the extended slumber, because we ended up with not 2 but 3 shows.


(remember from my last post that you have to BE FLEXIBLE and pretty much anything goes when you're overseas)


Our current venue is this tent in the picture below.  Now, this picture is taken from our balcony and may seem small, but holds just over 750 people.  

We have done our last 4 performances in this tent with people pouring out the back, and angry that they aren't able to get inside.  The side flaps had to be raised so that people could see, making our performance available to over 1500 people.  This has posed a small problem for the promotors of this event because there are still too many people trying to get in.

In an attempt to make our show available to everyone that wanted to see it, we were moved to the stadium that is designed to hold all 12,000 people in attendance for this festival.  We filled the stadium to almost 7500.  

Now, this is not an ego-boosting blog post.  It's just amazing to see the response from the Egyptian people to what we're doing.  They flock inside to see the floating table, straight-jacket escape, and hear my husband speak to them.  They are completely engaged.  I wish that these couple of pictures did the energy and passion of the Egyptian people could come through.  

There are wooden carvings all over this complex that say, "Blessed be Egypt, my people" (Isaiah 19:25)  The Egyptian Christians that live and work here believe that God has given them a special place in history.  They struggle here in country that believes it should be entirely Muslim.  But they are both hopeful and faithful to their belief.  To be here at this time to serve, encourage and challenge them is humbling, and I love every second of it. 

Egypt: The First 72 Hours

If I were to tell the story of our Egypt adventure over the last 75 hours, you may think that I’m kidding.  It has been as amazing as it has been exhausting and full of surprises. 

We left the States on Monday afternoon, making our way through Atlanta, New York, and then on to Cairo.  That leg of our trip alone was over 20 hours of travel.  11 of it on our midnight flight from JFK to Cairo.  But as we hit the ground in Cairo, despite our obvious lack of sleep (because who can really sleep on a an airplane), we were energized with excitement of a new place and new people.  Our excitement was short-lived when we met our host and he told us that we would be leaving, previously unknown to us, in 4 hours from the Cairo airport to head on a one hour plane ride to Luxor, lower Egypt for a show.  So we stayed at the airport with our host and our Norwegian strong-men (for real…they are part of Team Extreme) until our 11:45 flight out of Cairo.

Time awake by the time of our landing in Luxor: 34 Hours (Side note: We have not slept since Sunday night, when it was in our own beds.)

After arriving at our hotel in Luxor at 2:30 in the morning, we found out that we would be heading out for our 4 hour van ride at precisely 4:30 am. However, anyone who has ever traveled internationally knows that exact times are never exact, but more of a suggestion.  So after napping for about 2 hours, we sat in the van for another before we ever even left the city.

The city that we ended up in, Sojh, 7 hours south of Cairo.  What started as one show turned into 2.  The audiences were amazing and the house was completely packed for both! All in all, around 3500 people saw our last-minute show. Unfortunately we didn’t get a chance to stay after the last show because we were scheduled to fly back to Cairo, out of Luxor, that night at midnight. We piled back into the van, my husband and I and the 2 Norwegians, plus 1 Egyptian strong-man. We drove the 4 hours back to Luxor, where we were promptly dropped off at the airport for our midnight flight.

As I sat down in the food court with my pack of strawberry cookies and chili lime chips, (the other option was what looked like 3-day-old pizza), I took a deep breath, knowing that even though I was exhausted and a little loopy from lack of sleep, that it was not about us and our comfort.  We had come to Egypt to serve.  Plain and simple. And even though it had been frustrating and kind of made me want to weep uncontrollably, we were here for a purpose.

Time Awake as we fly back to Cairo: 55 Hours

Again, as you read this, you may be thinking that I’m exaggerating.  Not even a little bit.  But crazy at it sounds, it’s not over yet. 

After our 1 hour flight from Luxor to Cairo, we were picked up at the airport by our van, and piled in for our 1.5 hour drive to Wadi, where we would be putting down roots for a few days for the festival.  On top of my husband and I and the 2 Norwegians, we picked up a Brazilian jujitsu artist fresh off his flight from Sao Paulo.  We chatted and laughed about all of the things that had just happened in a short 48 hours, and talked about how nice it would be to have a good nights’ sleep in a real bed for the first time in days. But the chatter died down after about 2 hours (remember the 1.5 hour drive?) and we realized that the driver didn’t know where he was.  He began to loop around the highway, stop in gas stations, and stop at local street marketers close to the highway, asking for directions.

Now take a step back.  We are in a van, in the middle of the desert, with 2 Americans, 1 Brazilian, and 2 Norwegians, all of which speak no Arabic.  Our driver speaks no English.  We ask over and over where we are and why we aren’t at the hotel, and it flusters him to the point of extending our 1.5 hour trip to over 4 hours.  (You’d be flustered too if you had an angry Norwegian strong-man sitting behind you asking where the hotel was).  We eventually pull down a small road that eventually stops being pavement and is loose desert sand.  No lights, no road signs, and no camp in sight.  After having listened to terror stories about kidnappings and small side roads that lead to nowhere from our previous days’ driver, we all start to wonder if we would  ever make it out of Egypt alive.   But luckily for us, (and our driver), we pulled into the Biet El Wadi complex around 4 am. 

Time Awake when we reach our fresh hotel beds: 63 Hours.

Let me wrap this up by saying this: if you have every visited another country, you know that time is almost in a state of suspension.  There is no hurry, no on-time (except when flying), and no real worry.  Leisure reigns.  And when we are overseas, we have learned that our American pace gets set aside and we become flexible.  That is the travelers code: Be Flexible.  If you fail at being flexible, you would hate overseas work. It’s hard and rewarding and amazing all at the same time. 

As with every other time that I am overseas, I am in love with the cultural experience, the people, the food, and the way that God works.  I am looking forward to seeing what the next few days holds, and hopefully I can get my camera to work again by the time we get to the Pyramids.

Now for some much needed sleep…