After a long flight in one of Continental’s “mailing tubes” (Embraer Regional Jet) and a two hour drive to my destination in the Shenandoah Valley, I just wanted to grab a smooth glass of wine and supper.
Road weary I asked the young lady at the hotel desk if there was a nice local restaurant nearby. “Just down the street” she said...so not wanting to drive anymore I headed that way.
As I pulled into the parking lot I noticed the parking lot was full...seemed odd at this early hour, about 5:00 PM, and most of the cars were what I’ve always referred to as “retirees’ cars”...Mercury Grand Marquees, “Caddies” and Lincoln Town Cars.
Entering I noticed that the restaurant was dated, old paneled walls, heavy nautical type tables and chairs, old yellowed light fixtures and ceiling tiles and...aromatic (smokey).
The hostess asked the usual how many (I looked back to check if anyone had come in with me) and smoking or non (it smelled like it wouldn’t make any difference). “Just me” I said.
Seated I looked around and wondered if I hadn’t wandered into the dining room of a nursing home. Most, if not all, were senior citizens (bear in mind I’m about to go on Medicare), on walkers, oxygen trolleys’, and various other senior “appliances”.
They all seemed to know each other, laughing, smoking (yep...puffing away) and lifting their “toddies” in toasts to each other they were all milling around, having a grand time visiting each other’s tables.
I became totally engrossed in their joy, in-spite of ailments, physical status or age they were enjoying their night out.
It was unexpected but enjoyable...can’t remember what I ate (the wine was fine) as I was too busy listening to their laughter, stories (sounded like some were tall tales...oh yea!) and watching their joy.
When I finally departed I had been refreshed from my long day of traveling. Many were still there, I felt like I’d learned a lesson...you’re never too old to laugh and enjoy what you have (they were still there) and not what you don’t (youth and health).
So enjoy!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
NO BOARDING PASS!
In this day in time, where paranoia runs rampant...and the TSA has become the “Godzilla” of federal bureaucracies, playing on our fears, a terrorist under every rock and airline terminal a maze of security checks and blue shirted people everywhere...would you think you could get on a plane with no boarding pass?
“No way” you say! “Oh yea” I respond!...gather around and let me tell you the story.
I had gone to Pittsburgh for a few days of consulting, and all had gone really well. Flush with accomplishment I headed for the airport about noon, for a 2:00 PM flight. Work complete, airport security behind me I settled down for a nice lunch at TGIF and a rare luncheon splurge of a glass of wine (I knew it was five o’clock somewhere).
Lunch finished, a warm buzz from the wine, I headed for the gate. Passing one of those huge (at least 30 screen) arrival / departure boards (there not boards anymore but video extravaganzas) I noticed my flight said DELAYED. “Rut roh, rotsa ruck”...that is never good, especially in the middle of the day!
Arriving at the gate the poor young lady working the podium was already besieged with the inevitable barrage of questions, which to her credit she handled with patience and humor (stick around she’ll loose it later). Sitting near the podium I picked up (without getting in that long line) that our (B-737) flight was on a mechanical delay, “but no fear the mechanics are arriving on the next flight from Newark.”
Ok...that sounded plausible.
So I sat back and began reading my book and listening to the long line of people explaining to the young lady how important it was that “they” get to Houston so “they” could connect with their flight to wherever. She very politely listened and said she would know something shortly and would make an announcement.
Before this story becomes an epic novel, on a James Michener scale, let’s fast forward a few hours.
The mechanics arrived from Newark, opened panels and shined their flashlights into darken mechanical spaces and finally pronounced they’d found the problem...but the part was back in Newark! I’m not trying to second guess them, but being a retired pilot, I know that the problem had been diagnosed and the solution suspected....so why would you send mechanics, their tools and no parts?
When the young lady at the podium (her rosy cheeks getting darker) made that announcement....the scramble was on!
The arm waving, hand gestures and voice levels, around the podium began to rise by the minute. The once placid young lady’s cheeks began to turn a crimson red as she valiantly tried to handle the situation.
Hang with me...we’re almost there.
From somewhere in the gathering gloom of dusk and the ever increasing rain showers appeared a Continental Connection Bombardier Q400! Our young crimson cheeked agent announced that anyone wanting to get to Houston tonight (implying the part ain’t getting here today) could hop on board this mystery airplane and connect in Newark.
Momentarily stunned, the heard thundered toward the departure gate (why yes I was in the heard, taking a quick assessment of my chance on plane A and NOT seeing it going anywhere soon). To our surprise our boarding passes were surrendered at the gate and we were told that everything would be sorted out by the time we got to Newark...”just get on and find a seat!”
“WHAT...give up my boarding pass, my only proof of purchase...what’ll the TSA say....you’ve got to be kidding me”! Surely there was a TSA agent somewhere saying...”hey, wait a minute, you can’t let those people out on the ramp, much less on that airplane without a boarding pass.”
It’s only a short fifty five minute flight to Newark...up and down the aisle the conversation was all the same...“I don’t have a boarding pass...what’s going to happen in Newark”?
I have to take my hat off to Continental...we were all met at the gate with boarding passes for the continuing flight to Houston. WOW!! Kudos to Continental for taking a bad situation and making it work.
Exhausted but still hopeful we all dashed through Newark’s myriad concourses, more shops and restaurants than gates, arriving just in time to board our flight. WOW...again.
Disheveled, tired and thankful we arrived in Houston late in the evening, no worse for the experience and, in my case, HOME!
Commons sense does occasionally prevail.
“No way” you say! “Oh yea” I respond!...gather around and let me tell you the story.
I had gone to Pittsburgh for a few days of consulting, and all had gone really well. Flush with accomplishment I headed for the airport about noon, for a 2:00 PM flight. Work complete, airport security behind me I settled down for a nice lunch at TGIF and a rare luncheon splurge of a glass of wine (I knew it was five o’clock somewhere).
Lunch finished, a warm buzz from the wine, I headed for the gate. Passing one of those huge (at least 30 screen) arrival / departure boards (there not boards anymore but video extravaganzas) I noticed my flight said DELAYED. “Rut roh, rotsa ruck”...that is never good, especially in the middle of the day!
Arriving at the gate the poor young lady working the podium was already besieged with the inevitable barrage of questions, which to her credit she handled with patience and humor (stick around she’ll loose it later). Sitting near the podium I picked up (without getting in that long line) that our (B-737) flight was on a mechanical delay, “but no fear the mechanics are arriving on the next flight from Newark.”
Ok...that sounded plausible.
So I sat back and began reading my book and listening to the long line of people explaining to the young lady how important it was that “they” get to Houston so “they” could connect with their flight to wherever. She very politely listened and said she would know something shortly and would make an announcement.
Before this story becomes an epic novel, on a James Michener scale, let’s fast forward a few hours.
The mechanics arrived from Newark, opened panels and shined their flashlights into darken mechanical spaces and finally pronounced they’d found the problem...but the part was back in Newark! I’m not trying to second guess them, but being a retired pilot, I know that the problem had been diagnosed and the solution suspected....so why would you send mechanics, their tools and no parts?
When the young lady at the podium (her rosy cheeks getting darker) made that announcement....the scramble was on!
The arm waving, hand gestures and voice levels, around the podium began to rise by the minute. The once placid young lady’s cheeks began to turn a crimson red as she valiantly tried to handle the situation.
Hang with me...we’re almost there.
From somewhere in the gathering gloom of dusk and the ever increasing rain showers appeared a Continental Connection Bombardier Q400! Our young crimson cheeked agent announced that anyone wanting to get to Houston tonight (implying the part ain’t getting here today) could hop on board this mystery airplane and connect in Newark.
Momentarily stunned, the heard thundered toward the departure gate (why yes I was in the heard, taking a quick assessment of my chance on plane A and NOT seeing it going anywhere soon). To our surprise our boarding passes were surrendered at the gate and we were told that everything would be sorted out by the time we got to Newark...”just get on and find a seat!”
“WHAT...give up my boarding pass, my only proof of purchase...what’ll the TSA say....you’ve got to be kidding me”! Surely there was a TSA agent somewhere saying...”hey, wait a minute, you can’t let those people out on the ramp, much less on that airplane without a boarding pass.”
It’s only a short fifty five minute flight to Newark...up and down the aisle the conversation was all the same...“I don’t have a boarding pass...what’s going to happen in Newark”?
I have to take my hat off to Continental...we were all met at the gate with boarding passes for the continuing flight to Houston. WOW!! Kudos to Continental for taking a bad situation and making it work.
Exhausted but still hopeful we all dashed through Newark’s myriad concourses, more shops and restaurants than gates, arriving just in time to board our flight. WOW...again.
Disheveled, tired and thankful we arrived in Houston late in the evening, no worse for the experience and, in my case, HOME!
Commons sense does occasionally prevail.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Thunder rumbled and lightening flashed across the horizon...it was 4:30 in the morning.
Looking out our window on the ship we could see the offshore platforms dotting the Texas coast, shrouded in heavy rain and illuminated by their work lights, as our ship worked its way toward a dawn docking in Galveston.
The rains on the last day of our cruise were like tears of sadness...it had been a great cruise. We had departed Galveston seven days ago on the Carnival Conquest, under brilliantly blue skies and calm seas. Each day had been gloriously announced by golden sun rises and beautifully blue seas.
With over one thousand miles to Jamaica, our first stop, we had two full days at sea to explore and learn our ship....and learn we had to do as the fourteen decks offered challenges of getting where you wanted to go, as few decks allow a transit along the nine hundred feet of ship.
To the lyrics of the Beach Boys song Kokomo....
Bermuda Bahama come on pretty mama
Key Largo Montego baby why don't we go Jamaica
Off the Florida Keys There's a place called Kokomo
That's where you wanna go to get away from it all
Bodies in the sand
Tropical drink melting in your hand
We'll be falling in love
To the rhythm of a steel drum band Down in Kokomo
our wake churned and slid behind the ship to mark our progress.
Tours and shopping in Jamaica, Grand Cayman and Cozumel offered glimpses of island life and a chance to reacquaint our legs with solid ground.
Sadly, as all good things, we steamed around the tip of the Yucatan Peninsula and crossed the Gulf of Mexico back to Galveston.
It was our first cruise...but not our last.
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