Last week Nick and I went to my friend Erin's wedding in Atlanta. It was beautiful and perfect, but what I really want to talk about is the Kansas City airport, because that's where we spent a great deal of our time during the trip. You see, we had originally planned to fly out Thursday at about 4 o'clock, but that morning we got an automated message from Delta telling us that our flight had been cancelled. "We have protected you," the voice said, "on Flight Blah Blah Blah departing Friday at 7:10. Sorry for the inconvenience." First of all, I love that they used the term "protected," like we were surrounded by wild dingoes and then Delta the Barbarian came charging in with his gleaming deltoids and Austrian accent, wrapped us in a non-flammable blanket, and carried us to safety. Yeah, thanks for protecting us on a flight that leaves at 7 o'clock in the freakin' morning. We really appreciate that.