BOOTS ON THE GROUND IN PHOENIX!

I am really worn out from the events of today, but I have arrived in Phoenix, Arizona to cover the Super Bowl XLII for the RP.

The Mrs. pumped me out to SHV (that's what us frequent flyers call Shreveport Airport) early this morning. Sure enough my buddy Harmon's boss-man was true to his word!

When I got there a ticket was waiting for me at the Delta counter. There was a bunch of papers and all, but I just handed them back to the old white lady at the Delta counter, and she stamped them all and sent me on.

I got on the little bitty airplane headed to DFW (that's what us frequent flyers call Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport). The flight was real smooth. Once I got to DFW, I asked this big black fellow who was wearing a Delta uniform where I needed to go to get on the plane to the Super Bowl. He looked at all those stamped papers and told me "Gate D-78...and have fun!" He was real helpful, and gave me all the directions to the plane to the Super Bowl.

Well, I had to get on a train-bus thing there at DFW just to get to the airplane to the Super Bowl. This was getting pretty confusing to me, but folks were helping me out along the way...so I said a "Thank You" to the Lord.

So I got on the airplane headed from DFW to PHX (that's what us frequent flyers call Sky Harbor International Airport in Phoenix, Arizona.) Now, they let me on before almost all of the folks waiting to get on the airplane to the Super Bowl. I didn't really know why, but this really tall, dark-haired, young white lady told me that I was in "First Class." Now I know what "first class" means, but I had no idea how different "First Class" on a Delta airplane is from a flight on a Greyhound bus to Baton Rouge.

Man...I am talking about "leg room, leather seats, and all white folks (well not exactly, there was one black fellow up in First Class that I found out later worked for ESPN). Since I was sitting right up front I could see everybody else get on. I watched real close, and I didn't see not one Arab get on the plane. So I figured it was gonna be a safe flight.

The flight to PHX was wonderful. This really nice-looking gal kept coming around asking me if everything was okay, and brought me some chicken to eat, and kept filling up my root beer. She was real nice.

I think Delta Airlines ought not be in as bad a shape as it is, due to their wonderful employees.

Well, the airplane landed in PHX (that's Sky Harbor Airport for non-frequent flyers), and I deboarded. I was a little "fuzzy" about what to do next, seeing as Harmon's boss-man didn't give me all the details on Sunday, but I got off the airplane anyway.

So, I'm walking out of PHX, and I see a long line of fellows in brown coats, wearing funny-looking hats (kind of like hats that a delivery man, or an English soldier would wear). These fellows were all holding up signs like they were supporting some political candidate. But every sign had a different name on it. I hadn't ever seen something like that, so I stopped to look at them fellows. As I was looking them all over, I saw one really tall, good-looking, Arab-looking fellow holding up a sign that said, "ANDY."

Since I didn't know what to do for sure, I figured that I would go over and talk to this tall good-looking Arab-looking fellow that was campaigning for Andy. Well when I walked up to this fellow he asked me, "Are you Andy?" I told him that I was. Then he said, "Please come with me sir. I am to take you to your hotel, and I have a package for you from Harmon's boss-man in the car." (His American was real good even though he was Arab)

Well, I went right on with this tall Arab fellow (he was hard to keep up with, due to the difference in our leg length...but I did). It seemed like he knew more about what I was supposed to be doing than I did.

Man, you should have seen that car that this Arab boy was driving! I had left my camera at home so I couldn't snap a shot of it. But trust me, this car was something else! It was long, shiny, and black (even the windows were black...but you could still look out of them from inside).

And inside the car there was a radio, a TV, leather seats, and a little refrigerator (can you believe that...a refrigerator in a car?). There was a bunch of little bitty bottles in that refrigerator, but I wasn't thirsty, due to all the root beer I had drank in "First Class" on the flight to PHX. The only thing it didn't have was a potty, but that was okay, seeing as I had finally calmed down on the flight to PHX (Sky Harbor Airport) and didn't really feel the need.

Well, that Arab boy was right. There was a box just full of stuff for me in that car. Let me list it out for you.

1) A Tracphone

B) A portable computer

C) A tablet and pencil

4) A letter from Harmon's boss-man listing all of the telephone numbers for the Super Bowl folks (coaches, players, refs, and "bowl officials.") In this letter, he told me that I was gonna need this stuff in order to do my job covering the Super Bowl.

5 and 6) two packages of M&Ms

7) Official Press Pass to all Super Bowl events

8) A computer camera (you know, the kind that don't take paper pictures)

9) One "PRESS MEMBER TICKET TO SUPER BOWL XLII" (XLII is Italian for 42).

10) A Platinum VISA card in the name of RP (Harmon's boss-man has got class, I'll tell you)

It was a real nice ride in that big car, and this Arab fellow left me off at the motel (no...this is a Hotel). I got to my room (man, you ought to see this place...I'll put some pictures on the computer once I figure out this computer camera).

I broke out all this new equipment, and I'm gonna study up on how to use it all tonight. The words are little-bitty on all these instructions, but I brought my reading glasses with me, so I should be able to be (let me get my word book...) proficient in reporting the Super Bowl XLII to all of you.

I finally figured out this portable computer, and how to hook it up to the wall in my Hotel room. (that's how I'm telling y'all this...through the portable computer). But the rest of this stuff is still puzzling me.

Y'all pray for me...there is alot of stuff here to read, and a bunch of wires to hook up.

I didn't know it was going to be this complicated to report on the Super Bowl 42 (XLII). I'm just ready for some football!

Man, these 20th century advances sure do make it hard on a reporter.