Exactly ten years ago today, I took the most spontaneous trip of my life.

Arriving at work that morning, I had no plans for New Years, yet I had no intention to spend it home alone. I wanted to ring in 1999 in a special way, like maybe spending it in Times Square as millions see on TV every year. So on a break I checked for last minute airfare deals on the Internet. I was able to book a flight to nearby Newark for about $100, so I was all set.

I rushed home at lunchtime and packed very lightly... only a lowly backpack full of necessities. I had learned long ago that carry-on luggage was the only way to travel, but this might have been taking things too far. Anyway, we got to leave work early as it was New Years Eve, so I easily made my 4 p.m. flight, which landed in Newark at 6 p.m. From there, I took a shuttle to Penn Station in Manhattan to spend a couple of days in New York City.

Not bothering to book accommodations ahead of time, I walked to the Herald Square Hotel where Wil and I had stayed a few years earlier to see if they had any rooms available. Luckily, they did, so I had a perfect centralized based at a reasonable price. Very cramped, but it had a TV which was nice. Settling in for a few minutes, I called my mom from that room while watching a John Mellencamp special, and she could not believe that I was spending the weekend in NYC by myself.

I walked around a bit, then headed to Times Square. I believe I settled in at the block in front of the Brill Building. All I remember about waiting for the famous ball drop was that it was a very cold, very long wait. After all, you had to be in place a few hours ahead of time in order to have a prime viewing spot.

Man, it was really, really cold. Just as absentminded back then as I am now, in that I rarely coordinate what I'm wearing with the weather forecast, it would not surprise me at all if all I had under my light winter jacket was a flimsy T-shirt. All I know is that I could barely stand it, and with me being someone who loves (or at least used to love) the cold, that's saying something.

Anyway, the ball dropped at midnight, there was pandemonium, and then everybody dispersed. Being alone, I didn't know what I was going to do next. All I knew that I was hungry, and that I wanted to hear Prince's classic hit "1999" since it was finally 1999. Went into a deli for a sandwich to take to home base, and heard it right away.

The next day, New Years Day, a Friday, was to be my only full day in New York City. Off the top of my head, I don't remember where all I went, and surely many of the places you'd suspect were closed then due to the holiday. I do remember very much enjoying the Christmas sights of the city. Oh, and I bought marked down cards at MOMA to mail out the following holiday season. I mulled over trying to see the Rockettes at their famous Christmas show, but couldn't work out how to do that.

Anyway, late Saturday afternoon I shuttled back to Newark ready to fly back home, but got a rude awakening. The entire Midwest was experiencing a winter storm, and all flights for the day were cancelled. "What am I supposed to do?" I asked the lady at the counter. "Go back where you came from" was her unhelpful reply.

I ended up crashing at the airport overnight, like you see on the news sometimes, though hardly anyone else was there with me. But at least I was first in line the next morning for any available flights back. They put me in First Class, the first and only time I've flown that way.

Even that flight was slightly delayed, as they had to keep de-icing the wings. We finally took off, and as I watched the wings from my window seat, I got a little nervous. At one point I panicked and kept thinking, "Man was not meant to fly!" But I eventually calmed down and made it home okay. If only I had known what a tumultuous year lay ahead for me, I might have wanted to stay in the air longer...