American Way Cover - 1/15/2007

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Tom Cruise | Nevada Terminal | Terminal D Admirals Club | travel hiccups

There’s No Place Like

by Sherri Burns and Chris Wessling

North Las Vegas, Nevada

Terminal D at DFW. (Yes, I'm praying my wife never reads this.) … Terminal D is a true oasis in the desert! Where else can you do all your Christmas shopping, pick up the latest DVDs and a pair of noise-canceling headphones, and down two or three of the best margaritas in town? That's right, Terminal D at DFW! (No disrespect intended to Terminals A, B, and C.) Imagine three soaring stories of beautiful retail and restaurants, accented by glorious sculptures and dramatic skylights. If it were not for the pesky flight announcements, you'd completely forget you are in an airport. Whenever I fly in to DFW, I anxiously await the announcement of our arrival gate as my plane taxis in. If it's not in Terminal D, I hang my head in sorrow, but my hopes and prayers are only temporarily dashed. After all, there's a 33 ­percent chance that my connecting flight will leave from Terminal D. If not, then things get ­really interesting. Do I have enough time in my layover to hop on the Skylink, get over to Terminal D, soak in the ambience at the bar in Cantina Laredo, and then make it back to Terminal A or C in time for my departure? Sometimes I feel like Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible trying to pull it off (well, maybe not exactly like Tom Cruise). I remember the time I had a three-hour layover in Terminal D. I was safely ensconced in the luxurious Terminal D Admirals Club, sitting there mesmerized by the soaring panorama of touchdowns and takeoffs. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your perspective), I had forgotten to adjust my watch to Central time, and I missed my connection. Oh joy! I had another four hours to bask in Terminal D's glory. … Happy travels, and may all your DFW layovers include a Terminal D connection! - Corey Sommers,
Santa Clara, California

Some parts of the country call them diners, some call them greasy spoons, others call them Waffle House or Denny's - but I call them my kitchen, and there's no place like one of these restaurants for me. The hours of operation accommodate my crazy work and travel schedule. … Accessibility from the highway is key. I can eat at the counter and chat with the short-order cook, or I can get a booth and talk to my wife while I eat - either way, I get to glance at the local color that I don't normally get to see inside the airport, the hotel, or the office building where I am working. Not to mention, I love the comfort food! I've probably eaten in one of these establishments at every hour of the day. Red-eye flights, client deadlines, time-zone changes, and the travel hiccups that are bound to happen when you fly more than 100,000 miles a year mean that dinnertime isn't just at six p.m. for me. … Pulling out of the rental-car lot in the wee hours of the morning, I've learned to scan the highways for billboards or tall signs calling me to these eateries. … I've visited 47 of the 50 states and … even adopted tastes that reflect some of the regions where I've spent time. … Now, some people might wonder why I haven't tried all of the great restaurants that so many cities have to offer. … But that's just it - I have. I spend many nights out to dinner either entertaining clients or meeting with coworkers, but many of these dinners are just an extension of work for me. The 24-hour eatery is like my kitchen. This is where I go when I want late-night comfort food like eggs and hash browns or a greasy bacon cheeseburger. And what about dessert? Well, I leave that to the airports - I know where the ice cream stands are at just about every major airport in the United States!


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