A Sight For Sore Feet
Suffice it to say, I did not screw the turkey.
Which was an office joke for there you had to have been, but it’s still rather relevant. After several weeks of planning and some late nights and weekends and missing my children learning to crawl and going into Kindergarten, a near-flawless Counterpart Visit was executed by me and my office cohort.
Remembabouttit
Thanks to Ex-Hurricane Hannah, I woke up not only with a newly arrived houseguest (who had been stranded at Dulles) but to a message from my Airline saying how sorry they were for the inconvenience of canceling my flight until the next day. So there’s transportation issue #1. I quickly called and rescheduled with another airline from another airport, then hydroflew up the Fairfax County Parkway in a driving rain just in time for boarding. Don’t think I’ve been to JFK for thirty-four years, and don’t care if I don’t go back again until 2042. What a mess. But after greeting my guests, I caught a tab, which is the neither a taxi or a cab, but I’m typing quickly so let’s just stick with it, with a TV and GPS in the backseat that helped pass the time into Manhattan. I LOVE this century.
The lobby of the Hyatt at Grand Central Station was lovely, though the room was rather ordinary. I met up with an old ex-AF friend for dinner and a movie (! What’s that?), enjoying the purple heck out of “The Dark Knight”. Only the second flick I've seen all year.
The next day was beautiful, so I strolled around and had a small breakfast sandwich and cup of tea in the middle of Times Square, before heading to LaGuardia to start The Official Trip on our Official Aircraft, a luxurious C-9 that looked like a mini Air Force One.
After a dinner at The Chart House in Alexandria overlooking the Potomac, we settled into our VIP hotel rooms on Bolling AFB, used for all visiting generals. Truly the biggest, nicest billeting I’ve ever been in (a four-star general was a recent guest in my unit).
Just Capital
Days like this made all the tough preparation time worth it. An honors ceremony at the Air Force Memorial, complete with 16-piece band, two honor guard flights, a wreath-laying ceremony, a drummer and bugler playing “Taps”. Just spellbounding to be a part of. Took our party around to meetings and briefings in the Pentagon the rest of the day, before heading to the Chief of Staff’s residence to help out with the dinner (I was not an official invitee, but I still got to eat a heavenly piece of Sea Bass back in the kitchen). After dessert, the efforts of the chef and support staff (us included) were graciously recognized by the Chief, and then gifts were exchanged after a few songs from an AF Celtic Quartet. Just an amazing night to end and incredible day.
Date ‘n Ambassador
A short flight to Wright-Patterson AFB in Ohio started the morning, including the best hashbrowns I’ve ever eaten, plane or no plane. Crunchy as cracker jacks without being burnt. (Part of my job was selecting all the in-flight meals.) Eggs with cheese and onion, tea, a fruit cup…it was just a thrill to be eating on a plane, let alone with cloth napkins and metal utensils.
Took the troupe for whirlwind tours of my old Academic Stomping Ground at AFIT, the AF Research Lab, and the National Museum of the USAF, to include a catered lunch (an awesome salad with grilled chicken) in a VIP room overlooking the “Early Years” exhibit with dirigibles and WWI aircraft hung from the ceiling. Headed back to DC to visit the Embassy, then a quick change into suits to go to the Ambassador’s house, and when I say house, I mean castle. I need to learn how to ambass. The dogs would SO love living in a place like that.
I de-invited myself from the dinner, since per tradition only the principals attend, so I hung out looking all important in my suit with the security folks out front and bantered about for three hours while others watched DVDs or grabbed some chow in Dupont Circle.
Criss Cross’ll Make Ya
The long day from Bolling to Andrews to Langley to Peterson to Nellis started out in a comical way, with the 22-bag luggage vehicle not starting (transportation issue #2), forcing us to call an audible and throw the suitcases into the airmen’s three personal cars and hope they could make it onto the flightline without molestation. Briefings and tours at Air Combat Command preceded a 3.5-hr flight to Colorado Springs’ Space Command, where cool breezes keeping clouds just nibbling at the top of Pikes Peak tickled the cockles of my loinage. Or something. After a few short Get Ta Know Us briefings, we were back on the plane to head to Las Vegas, the westward sun keeping everyone going a little longer. Helped out by the homemade spinach-n-artichoke dip.
It was a bit of a cluster getting everyone and our bags into our hotel (The Palazzo, attached to The Venetian) but the room was amazing, 5-star luxuries with a two giant Plasma TVs, a smaller one in the bathroom, glass shower doors, remote-control curtains, chocolate water, gold-laced toilet paper, and live baby seal slippers.
A dinner by a waterfall at the Wynn Hotel next door was just so-so (more presentation than substance; ended up cracking up at my dessert plate when it was placed in front of me), then we battled Strip Traffic to go catch one of the Bellagio Water Jet Shows before letting our guests throw some money into a slot machine, just to say They Had Done It. We went to bed around 1:30am, East Coast Time.
I-15ED
Received briefings all day at various Nellis sites (USAF Warfare Center, Weapons School, Red Flag, UAV simulator), then tried to head back to our hotel, but the left-rear tire of our bus had to go and explode on the Interstate, leaving us slightly delayed (T.I. #4) but injury-free. We had a wonderful dinner at Pinot Brasserie in a semi-private room (windows looked out into the alternately slutty or shabbily dressed walking by) and then took in a Las Vegas Spectacle in the form of the nautically odd and bombastic “Le Reve” (French for “The Freaky-Ass Dream”), a Cirque-Du-Soleil-esque romp that had some pretty cool stunts, water gymnastics, and aerial bungee-tastic effects, but also had very weird characters (frog-men, goblins, un-comedic men in comic relief wearing white tuxes and wings). The scantily clad wet women were offset by the even scantilier wet bald men who seemed in greater abundance, and the music was just a smidge over the top. I’m still debating how it went over with our guests.
My Agent Vinny
Hello, Topeka, said our aircraft during a mid-country refueling stop, before landing in a pouring-down LaGuardia airport. The local OSI agents had arranged for our transportation to supplement the luggage and passenger vans I'd rented, since we don't have a military base to draw from up there. Pretty cool to be in a six-vehicle convoy, lights flashing, snaking from lane to lane, until our snake skidded into the back of the SUV in front of us (thankfully with no passengers), denting the heck out of the grill. (T.I. #5) We barely had times to plop our bags on our opulent, historical, but smallish Waldorf Astorial beds before needing to change into suits again and accompany the group to the UN Ambassador's residence in the Upper East side, though I was again forced to thumb-twiddle outside.
Saturday the clouds cleared, allowing us to enjoy DV access to the 102nd floor of the Empire State Building, with clear views up and down the island. Many grins all around. A shopover at Macy's was all that was left before having to say our verbal chestbumps back at JFK, where I waited until I saw the status of the flight change from "Final Call" to "Away from Gate" to, sigh of relief, "Departed."
T.I. #6, however, forced my 7:10 flight not to leave until 8:45, so I didn't get home until 11:30. Blistered ankles from new and dressy shoes all week, tired bones from being constantly on the go for seven days, it was so wonderful to relax the next day with two little munchkins who sport an uncanny resemblance.
Still, I'm stunned by how, dare I say, 'easy' the trip was. But six weeks of planning had me knowing the schedule cold, and, once arranged, it was simply just pulling back on the matchbox car and letting it go. The folks at the outbases went out of their way to accommodate us.
And I get to do it all over again in six weeks.
I'll be breaking in my shoes in the meantime.
Which was an office joke for there you had to have been, but it’s still rather relevant. After several weeks of planning and some late nights and weekends and missing my children learning to crawl and going into Kindergarten, a near-flawless Counterpart Visit was executed by me and my office cohort.
Remembabouttit
Thanks to Ex-Hurricane Hannah, I woke up not only with a newly arrived houseguest (who had been stranded at Dulles) but to a message from my Airline saying how sorry they were for the inconvenience of canceling my flight until the next day. So there’s transportation issue #1. I quickly called and rescheduled with another airline from another airport, then hydroflew up the Fairfax County Parkway in a driving rain just in time for boarding. Don’t think I’ve been to JFK for thirty-four years, and don’t care if I don’t go back again until 2042. What a mess. But after greeting my guests, I caught a tab, which is the neither a taxi or a cab, but I’m typing quickly so let’s just stick with it, with a TV and GPS in the backseat that helped pass the time into Manhattan. I LOVE this century.
The lobby of the Hyatt at Grand Central Station was lovely, though the room was rather ordinary. I met up with an old ex-AF friend for dinner and a movie (! What’s that?), enjoying the purple heck out of “The Dark Knight”. Only the second flick I've seen all year.
The next day was beautiful, so I strolled around and had a small breakfast sandwich and cup of tea in the middle of Times Square, before heading to LaGuardia to start The Official Trip on our Official Aircraft, a luxurious C-9 that looked like a mini Air Force One.
After a dinner at The Chart House in Alexandria overlooking the Potomac, we settled into our VIP hotel rooms on Bolling AFB, used for all visiting generals. Truly the biggest, nicest billeting I’ve ever been in (a four-star general was a recent guest in my unit).
Just Capital
Days like this made all the tough preparation time worth it. An honors ceremony at the Air Force Memorial, complete with 16-piece band, two honor guard flights, a wreath-laying ceremony, a drummer and bugler playing “Taps”. Just spellbounding to be a part of. Took our party around to meetings and briefings in the Pentagon the rest of the day, before heading to the Chief of Staff’s residence to help out with the dinner (I was not an official invitee, but I still got to eat a heavenly piece of Sea Bass back in the kitchen). After dessert, the efforts of the chef and support staff (us included) were graciously recognized by the Chief, and then gifts were exchanged after a few songs from an AF Celtic Quartet. Just an amazing night to end and incredible day.
Date ‘n Ambassador
A short flight to Wright-Patterson AFB in Ohio started the morning, including the best hashbrowns I’ve ever eaten, plane or no plane. Crunchy as cracker jacks without being burnt. (Part of my job was selecting all the in-flight meals.) Eggs with cheese and onion, tea, a fruit cup…it was just a thrill to be eating on a plane, let alone with cloth napkins and metal utensils.
Took the troupe for whirlwind tours of my old Academic Stomping Ground at AFIT, the AF Research Lab, and the National Museum of the USAF, to include a catered lunch (an awesome salad with grilled chicken) in a VIP room overlooking the “Early Years” exhibit with dirigibles and WWI aircraft hung from the ceiling. Headed back to DC to visit the Embassy, then a quick change into suits to go to the Ambassador’s house, and when I say house, I mean castle. I need to learn how to ambass. The dogs would SO love living in a place like that.
I de-invited myself from the dinner, since per tradition only the principals attend, so I hung out looking all important in my suit with the security folks out front and bantered about for three hours while others watched DVDs or grabbed some chow in Dupont Circle.
Criss Cross’ll Make Ya
The long day from Bolling to Andrews to Langley to Peterson to Nellis started out in a comical way, with the 22-bag luggage vehicle not starting (transportation issue #2), forcing us to call an audible and throw the suitcases into the airmen’s three personal cars and hope they could make it onto the flightline without molestation. Briefings and tours at Air Combat Command preceded a 3.5-hr flight to Colorado Springs’ Space Command, where cool breezes keeping clouds just nibbling at the top of Pikes Peak tickled the cockles of my loinage. Or something. After a few short Get Ta Know Us briefings, we were back on the plane to head to Las Vegas, the westward sun keeping everyone going a little longer. Helped out by the homemade spinach-n-artichoke dip.
It was a bit of a cluster getting everyone and our bags into our hotel (The Palazzo, attached to The Venetian) but the room was amazing, 5-star luxuries with a two giant Plasma TVs, a smaller one in the bathroom, glass shower doors, remote-control curtains, chocolate water, gold-laced toilet paper, and live baby seal slippers.
A dinner by a waterfall at the Wynn Hotel next door was just so-so (more presentation than substance; ended up cracking up at my dessert plate when it was placed in front of me), then we battled Strip Traffic to go catch one of the Bellagio Water Jet Shows before letting our guests throw some money into a slot machine, just to say They Had Done It. We went to bed around 1:30am, East Coast Time.
I-15ED
Received briefings all day at various Nellis sites (USAF Warfare Center, Weapons School, Red Flag, UAV simulator), then tried to head back to our hotel, but the left-rear tire of our bus had to go and explode on the Interstate, leaving us slightly delayed (T.I. #4) but injury-free. We had a wonderful dinner at Pinot Brasserie in a semi-private room (windows looked out into the alternately slutty or shabbily dressed walking by) and then took in a Las Vegas Spectacle in the form of the nautically odd and bombastic “Le Reve” (French for “The Freaky-Ass Dream”), a Cirque-Du-Soleil-esque romp that had some pretty cool stunts, water gymnastics, and aerial bungee-tastic effects, but also had very weird characters (frog-men, goblins, un-comedic men in comic relief wearing white tuxes and wings). The scantily clad wet women were offset by the even scantilier wet bald men who seemed in greater abundance, and the music was just a smidge over the top. I’m still debating how it went over with our guests.
My Agent Vinny
Hello, Topeka, said our aircraft during a mid-country refueling stop, before landing in a pouring-down LaGuardia airport. The local OSI agents had arranged for our transportation to supplement the luggage and passenger vans I'd rented, since we don't have a military base to draw from up there. Pretty cool to be in a six-vehicle convoy, lights flashing, snaking from lane to lane, until our snake skidded into the back of the SUV in front of us (thankfully with no passengers), denting the heck out of the grill. (T.I. #5) We barely had times to plop our bags on our opulent, historical, but smallish Waldorf Astorial beds before needing to change into suits again and accompany the group to the UN Ambassador's residence in the Upper East side, though I was again forced to thumb-twiddle outside.
Saturday the clouds cleared, allowing us to enjoy DV access to the 102nd floor of the Empire State Building, with clear views up and down the island. Many grins all around. A shopover at Macy's was all that was left before having to say our verbal chestbumps back at JFK, where I waited until I saw the status of the flight change from "Final Call" to "Away from Gate" to, sigh of relief, "Departed."
T.I. #6, however, forced my 7:10 flight not to leave until 8:45, so I didn't get home until 11:30. Blistered ankles from new and dressy shoes all week, tired bones from being constantly on the go for seven days, it was so wonderful to relax the next day with two little munchkins who sport an uncanny resemblance.
Still, I'm stunned by how, dare I say, 'easy' the trip was. But six weeks of planning had me knowing the schedule cold, and, once arranged, it was simply just pulling back on the matchbox car and letting it go. The folks at the outbases went out of their way to accommodate us.
And I get to do it all over again in six weeks.
I'll be breaking in my shoes in the meantime.
posted by Dan at 9:23 PM
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