Early in the morning I was on my way, off to Intercontinental for my flight to Boston. Everything was going smoothly—I even got a seat in a row all by myself, so I could go back to sleep—until I realized we were not moving. I was behind a big tour group of elderly folks with matching bags and IDs, the women with big Texas hair (some of it synthetic, some natural; well, when I say “natural” I do mean it grew out of their heads. What was done to it after that had nothing to do with nature.) who were chatting merrily so no one seemed too concerned.
I thought maybe they were waiting on a vet to sedate the dog that we could hear barking madly, but no. The captain comes on the intercom to say that we needed a new tire and it would take 45 minutes to an hour to accomplish that. After a little more time, they decided we needed to get off the plane, but told us not to go too far. I barely had time to call Robert and annoy him at work when they called us to reboard. We were all set to go when they realized that two people were missing from the tour group. Their friends tried phoning them, but they had left their cell phones off. One of the tour leaders loudly proclaimed that she would not depart without them, and in her firm resolve I imagined the story of another tour who had left one behind, disappearing into the jaws of an itinerant crocodile. But they arrived at last, out of breath, deeply embarrassed and greeted with applause.
After that things went smoothly, and I stretched out across my empty row and slept most of the flight (not used to those early hours!). Before I knew it, we were descending into Boston. I weaved my way among the retirees on the jet way and walked out the door of Logan to find an Avis bus just pulling up, and hopped on it to go get my Ford Focus. There’s always a lot of traffic north of Boston, but two rotaries (and a pass nearby Malden, Adrean!) later I was approaching Danvers and the Sheraton. I got in all right and they had a registration desk for the conference too, but not my registration stuff (forgot to send my last owl). Then I get to my room and find there is not, in fact, internet access because the wireless network cannot be found in my room. Nice eh? So I’m writing this in Word in my room, and if the free wireless does work in the lobby as the front desk now says (after three calls and no answer!) then I’ll put it up. If not, I’ll be entering these when I return.
Well -- the free wireless in the lobby isn't working, but I finally found a spot in the room where I can get the wireless signal: between the room door and the bathroom door. Lovely -- welcome to the Fawlty Towers of the North Shore.