Air Traffic Control Towers

This is how he MW saw Bankok 12 hours after having left LHR. He knows I have a collection of ATCTs and that I adore hearing from him on his travels as well. He is one of the few people I know who spends as much time away from home as I do. His home is just on a different continent. He watched a movie, fell asleep, watched another movie and TADA! he was in Bankok. Unfortunately, there was a mechanical problem. They have to completely unload the plane, and then spray it or something, before they let it go to Australia. He was tired. It isn't a great picture, but the thought; the thought counts for a lot today.
Later, much later, and three hours late he arrives in Sydney. This is one of the coolest ATCT in the world. Note the SPIRAL staircase. The photo is a gem in itself. The sky is crashing light like a scary movie and although totally in color all we see is black and white. He tells me he had to lean over other passengers to get the shot. What a guy!
Now ATCTs are something he knows about. He once was a pilot, after he was a chef and before he was an international man of mystery. I am honored my little collection has these two pics in it. And to think I was going to post the ATCT from BWI today. Ok, I'll do that one too. But it is totally hokey next to these sublime examples of airport art. It will have to wait a while, as I wouldn't want to spoil these delightful specimens.
Bon Voyage MW - enjoy down under.
~E

Wequasset Inn

A hugely pleasant surprise to find a bastion of customer service, comfort and simple New England elegance an hour from Boston! A delightful venue for business meetings and and events, one can imagine the romantic potential as well. Fireplaces in and outside of the rooms, views of the bay, Moulton Brown products and heavenly mattresses and bedding make even a stressful (team meeting) visit a huge pleasure. Photos and further observations to follow.

NO ENTRY

I had the pleasure of picking up a colleague at BOS on Saturday. International arrivals are always entertaining. There are people waiting with flowers. There are children hanging on their mothers looking past the forbidding doors for their daddy. There are children fueled by the airport's mystery and hugeness running in eliptical pathways through the crowd. There are young families waiting for grandparents and old families waiting for the tired confused children who have flown too long. For every passenger that makes it through the doors there is the tiny rise in anticipation from the crowd. Will this one be the one I am waiting for.... will my passenger be next?

Little flocks of flight attendants leave together, uniform, efficient and in control of the role they play in the arrival drama. They are the harbringers of the flight they attend. If you see the BA attendants so the English have arrived. If you see AlItalia so the Italians are coming through. And as the crowd thins you see the worried or the impatient looks, the wonder with those with signs looking for their passenger, their international arrival, their unknown quantity, their love, their new friend as yet unmet.

The doors pose another thought. What goes on beyond them? What happened while they were away? Who did they see and what have they done? Will there be pictures to document the story or will there be secrets? The waiting crowd is blind to the travelers experience. Were they harrassed in customs? Did they lose their bags? Were their bags searched? What did they bring home? What did they leave behind? I think of my many journeys and how I came home time after time to a husband and son. Time afer time they waited for me in front of these doors that block the experience of my world from theirs, these doors that forbid view, that forbid questions.

BOS is where I come home. And so for me on this Sunny Saturday hours before game 6, I am not coming home through the doors but seeing and feeling what those I love have seen and felt for my many homecomings. And in seeing and feeling these moments of anticipation and worry I walk a step or two in their shoes. Reflect. What is like to be on the other side of your NO ENTRY?

Communication breakdown.

I'm convinced that great big light in the morning sky rising in the east is a lazy Mercury.  It lags in perspective to the Earth's movement and so is 'retrograde.'  The newly alone mom and worker needs an extra hour in the morning these days; my body clock perversly wakes me before the alarm.  The dog gets walked in the dark, while the hot planet causes mischief.

I have a close friend who calls me from BOS (Logan Airport) seated on a plane on her way to Paris to tell me that she is engaged.  She leaves me this message on my voice mail.  Mercury made sure I wouldn't hear this first hand. I missed this call by seconds.

Another friend's mobile phone has a nervous breakdown and talking on his BB is like trying to talk over 2 tin cans and wet string.  I call the Paris apartment he is lodged atand the phone gets so hot he can't hold it to his ear. I'm jonesing for conversation.

My 7:00 AM con call dies in a tunnel and and my assistant can't conference me in to ANYONE.  The drive feels like a waste.

Working all day I find myself backing out of conversations as my words twist and transpose on their way out of my mouth.   My advice is skewed, my warnings lame, my stories fall flat and all because the orbits of average little planets in an average little solar system aren't dancing in rhythm to the tune of our view.

Note to self: get an ephemeris and mark retrogrades in Outlook.


 

Halloween is my favorite time of year.

This is New

I'm just testing this out. Will I really start writing to this blog?
... Hmmmmm ... I think so.
CG

Starting out

Sitting here with Fabulously Out There, figuring out this site.