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Initial Publication Date: May 10, 2007 |
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Time
is absolutely precious. Since I was a small child, I have known
that money is renewable and replaceable but time is not. Tell
homeless people that you have a magic genie that will grant them a
wish; then ask, “For what do you wish?” Invariably they will wish
for money. Ask other unsuccessful people – people who continually
seem to “fail” -- and the answer will be the same: “Money.” But ask
highly successful people and you’ll get a very different, much more
insightful answer: They will emphatically answer “Time!” With more
time, successful people can always create more wealth.
I don’t wait in line well. Doing so has always seemed to be a
horribly unproductive use of my time. When I fly, I am aware of the
“be sure to arrive at least two or three hours before your scheduled
departure time” suggestion. That’s fine for the masses, but it
doesn’t work for me. I especially smile at the “three hours early
for international flight” suggestion. That’s crazy. That’s when
everybody else begins lining up. I make it a point to check in
fifty minutes prior to departure for those international flights.
By the time I make my way through security and “passport control”
and arrive at the gate area, most of the passengers have already
boarded. I normally smile at that point, knowing, once again, that
I have avoided waiting in yet another line. “Ah!” I usually
think to myself, “another efficient use of my time.”
Normally, I don’t check luggage. Everything I need is expertly
packed in my carry-on. My routine is predictable: Once I have
boarded, I remove the items I may need for the trip and
place my carry-on in the overhead bin. I look towards the rear of
the aircraft in awe. “How in the world can they squeeze so many
people into ‘Coach’?” I wonder. I smile at my good fortune.
“Champagne, sir?” the flight attendant asks, “or would you care for
some freshly squeezed orange juice?” I usually get orange juice.
“Could I hang your jacket for you?” is the question from the next
flight attendant. I hand the person my jacket and my boarding
pass. I look back to the coach section once more. The look of envy
and irritation is evident on a number of faces. Somehow that makes
me feel good inside and I give them something between a smile and a
grin before I take my seat. A friend of mine once said, “Rock,
you’re pretty much an arrogant snob when you travel, aren’t you?”
“Well,” I answered, “sometimes my wrestling heel personality
surfaces, but I’m a lovable arrogant snob.”
Many people I know talk about one- to two-hour waits to clear
Customs and Immigration at international airports. When I fly
internationally, I don’t check luggage. Again, my carry-on is all I
need. I am usually the first person to depart the aircraft. (Isn’t
it great how everyone departs through the door located right at the
first class cabin?) I dress well when I travel. I am always in a
suit and tie. Appearance (packaging) is important. I have a few
“personal best” records concerning international air travel. My
best record: From the moment the aircraft door is opened until the
moment I have exited the airport, including clearing Immigration,
Customs, and Agricultural Control – ready? – Four minutes and
fifty-seven seconds. I average around seven minutes. Since I am
usually the first person from my flight to see the various
inspectors, I often say something to the effect of, "Quick. Lock
the doors. They’re coming!” as I point toward the masses far behind
me. As with everything else in life, I tend to find humor in all
situations and to make all situations fun.
It was very early Thursday morning, April 19, 2007. I would be
flying to Las Vegas for the yearly CAC Wrestlers Reunion and Awards
Dinner. I
was to receive the prestigious “Reel Honoree Award” at the
culmination of that three-day event. Travel and hotel arrangements
had been made on my behalf months earlier. I was driven to Ontario
(California) Airport. I was to meet friends Jason Thompson and
Bobbie Thompson, who would join me for the flight. Bobbie would be
my “official” photographer and Jason would be one of at least three
cinematographers covering the Vegas awards event.
“Here
is the printout of your flight information,” Bobbie said. “We’ll be
getting into the line there for Southwest Airlines.” I stared at a
long line, cut my eyes over to Bobbie, and cautiously shifted my
attention to the printout. “This flight doesn’t leave for nearly
two hours,” I said in a mild state of disbelief. “Why am I here two
hours early for a 45-minute flight?” “Because that’s the rule,”
Bobbie said. I was pleasant. I usually am. I smiled and said,
“Not for me, it isn’t. Where’s the first class check-in?” She
looked questioningly at me. “This is Southwest, Rock,” she said.
“They don’t have first class.” “Then business class,” I suggested.
“They don’t have that either.” “So, what you’re telling me,” I
quipped with a smile on my face, “is that Southwest has no class.”
She forced a smile. “They only have one class,” she explained. At
the check-in counter, I requested an aisle seat as far forward as
possible. Imagine my surprise when I heard, “Sir, it's open
seating.” Wrestlers have a very strange sense of humor and are
always playing jokes (“ribs”) on each other. I finally got it.
Bobbie has always been considered “one of the boys.” “Okay, very
funny,” I said to her. “You got me. Great rib. Now, what airline
am I really flying?” Only … it wasn’t a joke. I found myself
squashed in with a hundred-plus other people on a flying bus. But,
it provided a great opportunity for fun.
“Upper deck, starboard please” I said to the senior flight attendant
as I boarded the aircraft. “Yeah, right,” she said. “Full forward,
cockpit, left seat?” I asked with a smile on my face. “No, the
captain showed up and he appears to be sober enough to fly,” was her
rapid reply. We both smiled. When seated, I asked, “Where is my
personal movie screen and how do I undock it?” “Excuse me, I
haven’t been offered champagne yet. You might want to hurry; the
aircraft will be departing soon. And, by the way, I also don’t have
a menu for the dinner choices.” I followed it up with lots of
entertaining quips for the other passengers: “Oh my goodness. This
is a 737. I didn’t know anybody was still flying the old 737s,”
and, “Wow, they’re going to attempt a landing with only 30 degrees
of flaps? This should be interesting.” I kept the passengers and
crew entertained as Bobbie continued to reinforce, “I don’t know
him. I just happen to be sitting here.”
I
continued my “amazingly witty and funny” comments as I waited for
luggage. Yes, I actually had to check luggage for this flight. “Do
I have to
carry the suitcase myself?” I asked. “Where are the porters? Where
are the greeters? Where is my limo?” “You really are the ultimate
Ugly American, aren’t you?” Bobbie asked. “No,” I corrected. “It’s
humor. It’s funny.” “Well,” she responded, “could you give the
humor a rest?” She thought for a moment. A slight smile appeared
on her face as she continued: “You need to save that brilliant wit
and humor for the event. And, if you let it rest, we’ll take you to
Quarks later and begin celebrating your award early.” “Quarks?” I
asked. “Tonight? Cool.” That afternoon, during the first official
day of the CAC event, I talked with dozens of living legends from
the world of professional wrestling. I took it upon myself to
invite several of them to join us at the world-famous Quarks Bar &
Grill that evening. “Several of us are going to Quarks tonight,” I
would say. “How would you like to join us?” When one of the
legends would accept my offer, I followed up with, “That’s great.
Now we have someone to pay the bill.” It was a great beginning to
an amazing three-day journey – a journey shared with hundreds of the
best of the best that the world of professional wrestling has ever
seen. Next week, the journey begins. Until then, keep those
e-mails coming.
