The People You Meet

June 20, 2017

I haven't been here for a while, most of my blogging attention has been focused on my travel blog (The Erudite Tourist) and this space has been a bit neglected. 

I tend to write things here that I'd like to say, but might not be inclined (for whatever reason) to broadcast on more interactive social media platforms. If someone happens to stumble upon my writings here then great, but if not I'm happy for them to be out there if and when they are discovered. In other words, I'm not necessarily looking for feedback, but if it comes, OK. This was written on June 20, 2017, but I never got around to publishing, so here it is.

A promising start to the trip

I'm currently sitting in the Charlotte, NC airport, waiting for my flight to London which is scheduled to depart in 7.5 hours.

I was supposed to arrive in London almost 11 hours ago, but Mother Nature decided to unleash her fury on the Eastern United States yesterday and the air traffic system ground to a screeching halt.

A Few Thunderstorms

So here I sit in the American Admiral's Club (thanks to a Business Class ticket) sipping a Cuba Libre, reflecting on any number of topics, but mostly thinking about people and specifically how we deal with random encounters and connect with others. Given the current socio-political climate in the country this has been a common topic of late, so it certainly makes sense. 

Thanks (?) to Mother Nature I've had several encounters in the last 24 hours and I'll list them here with some thoughts on each. For some reason I've been more engaging than usual, a bit by design but mostly due to circumstance.

• The lady sitting behind me on the first leg who pushed everyone out of her way to de-plane when we arrived is completely forgettable. Just your average inconsiderate traveler. Not a good experience.
• The gentleman that I walked with down the concourse during my layover, sharing observations on the need for a more efficient way to get people from the end of Concourse E up to the Concourse D walkway in Charlotte. They've added a tremendous number of gates to the E concourse over the years but haven't made any provision to expand the choke point at the escalators, creating quite a mess at times.
• The lady with four kids who pushed in front of me as we waited to board the flight to JFK. Her rudeness would only increase.
• Colin, my seat-mate on AA 1972 (or at least the attempt at such.) His phone was dying so I pulled out my booster battery (Amazon owes me a commission if he ever figures out how to get one shipped to one of his addresses.) We chatted off and on for hours, sharing anecdotes and jokes of the struggles of modern air travel. He was just trying to get home.
• Colin's co-worker, who sat behind us and across the aisle. Offering witty retorts and joining in the banter as we sat and waited, and waited and sat.
• The guy behind us, another New Yorker, who was generally non-plussed and also lighthearted about our shared misery.
• The lady across the aisle from me, from Raleigh, also trying to get to London, who works in the biomedical field. She was on a flight from RDU the previous evening which was cancelled due to mechanical issues. A friend of mine was also on that flight, trying to get to Stockholm, he ended up making it, albeit 24 hours late as well. An experienced traveler, she was going with the flow and hoping for the best. Her flight from JFK to LHR was also delayed, but the cancellation finished things off.
• The flight attendant "up front" for the adventure was just a good guy. He chatted and joked with us as well as sharing whatever information he had available. At every twist and turn he maintained his sense of humor and communicated a very strong sense of "we're all in this together." This guy was the epitome of what it takes to keep passengers on an even keel in an unfortunate situation.
• Captain O'Toole (a name I won't soon forget, since he was on the PA about every 98 seconds giving us updates as he received them from various sources.) He gave us the best he had and stood at the cockpit door every time the jetway was connected, chatting and joking with passengers. Based on his demeanor I'd fly with him any time - he came across as a real pilot's pilot.
• The young lady from France who is a member of the USC track team who stood in line with me waiting to be rebooked. I think I was on Face-Time with her boyfriend more than she was, as she was holding her phone at an odd angle. I hope she made it to Paris with minimal hassle. She was helped quickly by the agent at the customer service counter, so I think she ended up in good shape.
• The group in front of me in line, trying to get to Italy and working the phones to sort things out with Travelocity and the other airline. Apparently they ended up with a refund from AA, not sure how things ended up with their second flight. Lesson learned - make sure you have plenty of padding if you're trying to glue together your own trip with different airlines.
• Kim, at the American Airlines Customer Service Counter on C Concourse last night. She was cranking people through the system and had me rebooked in minutes after I finally made it to the front of the line. Despite the crushing number of passengers she kept a smile on her face and did everything she possibly could to say "yes" if at all possible.
• Jackson, my Ghanaian Uber driver, who provided a clean, safe ride and a fantastic conversation about his country. I have other friends with connections to Ghana, so it was easy for us to find a connection.
• The staff at the Hilton City Center in Charlotte. Due to fatigue and lack of attention I didn't catch any names, but everyone was amazing, from check-in to check-out. The young man who delivered toiletries to my room spoke very little English, but was a delight to interact with and went above and beyond to make sure I had what I needed.
• Donald, the Uber driver who took me back to the airport. Another clean, safe ride with good conversation. Never found out when his son played golf for NCSU, but hope that turned out well for him!
• The TSA agents in the Pre-Check line were friendly and engaging. I think the size of the airport and volume of passengers may contribute to their generally superior demeanor. No screaming instructions (for either line) and no condecension was offered that I heard, quite unusual given the varied experience level among travelers.
• My friend Paul, who happened to be connecting through Charlotte on his way to Newark. By chance I saw his post on Facebook and went to visit his gate. We were able to chat for a good thirty minutes and that alone almost made the whole delay worth it. It definitely made the day much more tolerable!
• The grandparents from Kansas with their 4 year old "Cars" fan on their way home from Disney who had their flight cancelled last night. They made me realize that yes, I am old enough to be a grandparent, even if I still see myself as a kid sometimes. Now I'm pretty sure that the reason grandparents are so crazy over grandkids is because it gives them an excuse to be young and goofy again. It seems to be a reward for having to be more serious while raising your own kids.
• The former Montessori teacher who spoke so softly that I never figured out where she was going (I think she was also going to Kansas, but not sure.) She's been to London a few times and has a relative who married a Scot and lived in the UK for a while.
• The family from Columbia with the toddler who was too cute for words. With a mother who speaks at least four languages other than English and a father who speaks at least three more he's destined to be a polyglot.
• The lady from California, who was nice enough to recite not only her SSN and personal details, but also her credit card information, all while sitting in a large room surrounded by countless others. How does identity theft happen? Just like this...
• The arms dealer who sat across from me talking loudly on his phone so everyone could hear how important he was. I quickly located him on the internet (luggage tags and stickers on laptops can divulge a lot of information that Google can turn in to actionable intelligence.)
• The staff in the American Airlines Admiral's Club who made sure I was comfortable during my protracted wait. They checked on me "just enough" without being overbearing, and each time the snacks were updated they gave me a rundown. Top tier, all the way.

Finally Leaving Charlotte

I got to London 24 hours late, with no luggage. Somehow it made it to JFK without me, but before my flight from CLT-JFK was even cancelled, then had to catch up to me in London. Yes, it defies logic...

What and Why

General observations, sometimes rants, of the world around us. Occasionally an anecdote.

I consider it therapy. My cardiologist endorses the activity because it keeps my blood pressure manageable. 

There's no telling what you might find here, so fasten your seatbelt, I'm not everyone's cup of tea. I'll defend my LGBT friends with my 2nd Amendment rights and think we should spend marijuana tax revenue with fiscal restraint. 

I often write quickly and edit poorly, due to a desire to get thoughts down before I forget them.

Content is added sporadically. Sometimes I edit to update links, but I don't change content. Sometimes I predict the future (Obama's first election) – sometimes my predictions fail (Obama's second term.)

I hope to do better going forward, now that I've rediscovered this neglected corner.

Dad and Nixon

First, a bit of background. My Dad (stepfather) may have been as close to Forrest Gump as anyone has ever been, at least when it comes to finding himself in the presence of famous personalities. This is a verbatim copy of his handwritten account of one such event that took place in November, 1977. He was attending the National Soft Drink Bottler’s Association Convention in Anaheim with his friend and long-time business partner, Carl Brown. 

Politically Dad was more concerned with issues and integrity than party, and while we never discussed Nixon from a political standpoint I’m comfortable saying that he was probably in agreement with many of his policies and initiatives, but disappointed in his conduct with respect to Watergate. 

Regardless of politics, he was certainly aware of the significance of his experience on November 16, 1977. I’ve shared bits and pieces of this with friends over the years, but haven’t heard/read the full account for forty years. So here it is. I’ve made every effort to maintain the precise spelling, capitalization, and punctuation of the long-hand version, so any syntactic anomalies are intentional. 

"Let me tell you about the most exciting part of my trip. After spending two full days – Monday and Tuesday on the Convention floor – seeing the Exhibits – talking to Suppliers and other Bottlers – I was beginning to repeat myself. It was time to change the scene. 

Since the Pepsi Bottlers Association was scheduled for Thursday, Carl Brown and I decided that if we were to see anything of Southern California, that it would have to be on Wednesday. We thought it would be nice to drive down the coast, all the way to Tijuana, Mexico. So after breakfast Wednesday morning, we took the car that I had rented on Sunday and we headed for the coast and South. The weather was good. The coastline is really pretty along the way – Newport Beach, Laguna Beach, etc and we were getting into enjoying the trip and the scenery. 

Down the road – and as we approached San Clemente, I said to Carl that “what we really should do is to stop in San Clemente and pay our respects to Richard M. Nixon.” Carl said “Yeah, we really should.” And so having that settled we started looking for signs, or something, that would indicate that we were approaching what used to be the Western White House. No signs or recognition, so we stopped at a service station and asked the man for directions to where Mr. Nixon lives. He gave us some general directions and we proceeded on. 

When we came into the general area we saw a security guard shack with a man on duty and told him that we would like to drop in on Mr. Nixon. Turns out that he wasn’t the one to see – he was on duty for the benefit of the other residents. But he told us to “go down that road to the Coast Guard gate – before you get to the gate there is a phone on a post – just pick it up and the Secret Service will talk to you – you wont have to say a word – they will talk to you.” 

So, with that, we went “down the road” and stopped and picked up the phone. Sure enough, they answered right away. I told the “voice” that me and Carl would like to see and speak to Mr. Nixon. The “voice” said that Mr. Nixon had not been receiving visitors and what we should do is to write him a letter and that if he wanted to see us that he might give us an appointment. I responded that “that doesn’t fit our situation” – that we were just a couple of business men from North Carolina and that we simply wanted to meet Mr. Nixon in person and to pay our respects. We did not have time while in California to write a letter and get a response before having to go home day after tomorrow, but we sure would like to meet him. 

He said – “well in that case you should call this telephone number” – and he gave me a telephone number. Then I asked him where I could find a telephone and he said that the closest one was back down the road where we came from. He probably thought that that was the end of that. 

We went back “down the road” but we didn’t stop at the security gate – we went on to the first gasoline station and there was a pay phone sitting on the side of the lot, and we called the number. I turned out to be Mr. Nixon’s office and his secretary answered. Found out that her name is Marnee, then I went into the spill about me and Carl wanting to see Mr. Nixon. She said that he hasn’t been receiving guests since he has been working on his memoirs. She said that a request to see Mr. Nixon would have to be cleared with Col. Jack Brennan. Could the colonel call us back? I explained that we were in a phone booth on the side of the road outside the Exon station- “But, “ I said, “I see a sign over there that says San Clemente Inn.” She said “We know that number – go over there and wait in the lobby and Col. Brennan will call you there.” 

 So we drove over to the San Clemente Inn and told the lady at the desk that we were expecting a telephone call from Jack Brennan, and could she connect us when he called? – and she showed us a phone that she would let us use. So while we waited for the call to come in we began to ponder what our reaction would be if he gave us an appointment, but not until 3:00 o’clock or 4:00 oclock, since it’s only 11:00 now – Before we figured out what we would do with that, the telephone rang and it was for us. 

I picked up the phone and it was Marnee. She said that she had a problem. She wasn’t able to get up with Col. Brennan since he was out for a while but that she had spoken with Mr. Nixon and Mr. Nixon said that he would see us for a few minutes before his appointment with the Reader’s Digest people – Could we come at 11:30? I said, “That’s just Fine!! So we waited until 11:25 – went back to the Secret Service telephone and this time they know exactly who we are. When I picked up the phone this time they told us how to proceed when they opened the gate. Inside, and down the road a ways, a vehicle was waiting to escort us the rest of the way to his office. We parked outside his office, went in and met Marnee and after waiting just a couple of minutes she came to tell us that “Mr. Nixon will see you now” There we were, at 11:30 AM Wednesday, me, Carl, and Richard Nixon in his office shaking hands and slapping each other on the shoulders and talking to each other like we were friends who had known each other for years. We stayed in his office for almost 15 minutes – just talking about personal things – looking at stuff in his office of which he is especially proud – about his forthcoming book which he says will be out in March. I told him that his old yacht was tied up with eye sight and a stones throw of my condominium at Wrightsville Beach, and that gave rist to some personal recollections about trips down the Potomac. And I must say that the visit to his office – meeting and talking with Richard M Nixon was one great moment. I really did enjoy it. 

After Carl and I left, and headed on down to San Diego, where we had lunch, we began to realize what a really rare even that this turned out to be. It was simply a whim that we had acted on, and a combination of circumstances and timing that had gotten us into his office – Well, enough of that – it was great fun! But didn’t that take a lot of balls?! 

After the meeting on Thursday both Carl and I left Anaheim and went to Los Angeles – Spent the night at the Century Plaza Hotel, which is one of the great hotels of the world. 

 Having dinner that night I looked around at the table next to us sat Col. Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame. He wasn’t eating fried chicken – but then we weren’t drinking Pepsi either – 

He told me that if I didn’t quit that smoking that I wouldn’t live to be 84 – He might be right about that."