10:30 pm
The elevator at the hotel is slower than my grandfather driving through a Christmas light show. (He REALLY liked to savor the lights.) Before we left for dinner, we let the front desk know our room smelled a bit damp. On our way back in, we were in the elevator with a guy holding Febreze, towels, and a to-do list with our room number on it. He got off on the third floor, dropped the towels off somewhere, and arrived at our fourth floor room, Febreze in hand, at the same time we did. Note to selves: Allow 20 minutes travel time to the breakfast buffet.
9 pm
When I looked over the hotel reservation and started to re-orient myself to Fort Lauderdale, I wondered if the hotel was located near one of our favorite landmarks from our time in South Florida. Every time we took 595 from our place in Plantation into Fort Lauderdale, we could see it from the highway: the mausoleum for the Forest Lawn funeral home. Or, as we reverently called it, The Pyramid of Death. We were not disappointed. It's right across the street.
Hopefully it is not a bad omen for the Irish.
The woman at our hotel check-in brightly inquired whether we are going on a cruise. She looked confused when we told her we're here for the BCS championship game.
8 pm
Lots of BCS signage and welcome goodies at the Fort Lauderdale airport, which appears to have spent much of the last decade under construction, with minimal progress. I rounded a corner into what looked like a mostly-finished shopping area designed to look like a cutesy village and saw this:
5 pm
The crowd at the gate in Charlotte is sporting a lot of ND blue and gold. I feel like I am traveling incognito because I am not wearing anything with Notre Dame on it. I end up seated next to an older couple wearing everything Bama -- the woman has teased hair, red boots, a prairie skirt, red jacket with Bama boutonnière, and an Alabama diamond watch. I resist the urge to play the fight song, helped by the fact that I have to turn off electronics for takeoff.
Morning
I looked at Mike this morning and said, "I'm probably too old to get away with saying, 'I'm going to the 'SHIP, baby,' aren't I?" Even though I already knew the answer, I was still slightly disappointed when he agreed with me.
In my student days, there were plenty of alums to giggle and roll our eyes at on football weekends. Lots of middle-aged men in plaid pants and ND logos who sometimes wanted to visit their old dorms. I wonder whether the alum stereotype has changed since then. Maybe now the students giggle at people like me, who would not be caught dead in plaid pants, but will be carrying around all the same gadgets they have and trying to act like we're still students.
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