Cell Phone Saga

I left my cellphone unplugged with its battery removed for a little over a day, hoping (but knowing otherwise) that being powerless would convince it to start working. No such luck.

Tonight, back in Connecticut, I rummaged through my cabinets of old electronics and found two LG G4010s. Nice phone, back then. One had been Helaine’s, the other mine. Guess which was in better shape?

There’s no Bluetooth and, so far, I’ve found no way to move the phone numbers from the RAZR to the LG.

Hey, at least I have a working phone!

Of course any phone number that’s been changed, or newly acquired by me, is not in this old phone. I’ll survive.

Now I can go about my new phone plan acquisition at a more leisurely pace.

Just Too Busy

The last two days at work have been hectic. We’re installing some new computers which will be seen on-the-air during the weather broadcasts.

Cool technology. Hopefully, I’ll do it justice.

I’m not sure how many computers are now under my control at work, but it’s more than a dozen! The more computers you have, the more often you’re going to get trouble.

I’ve mentioned this before, but it bares repeating… Before computers, if you lost your mechanical assistance performing your job, you’d slow down. Now, if there’s a breakdown, you’re dead.

Think about what’s happened to the airlines more than once over the past year. Airplanes had the value of paperweights!

It’s happened to cell phone networks, ATMs, TV stations too. Over the next few years it will only happen more often!

Moving Through The System

My leg/ankle is still killing me. I can walk on it and don’t wince in pain, but I am limping and the discomfort has woken me in the middle of the night.

I went to see Steve today. Sock off, pant leg rolled up, on the table… he looked every bit a doctor as he examined me.

He saw enough to send me off for an X-ray. The Temple Medical Center is only a few blocks away.

Though Steve is an ‘old school’ sole practitioner, once you leave his office the medical profession becomes the medical industry. As a patient in this system, you’re a tree on your way to becoming a box of toothpicks.

Unless you’re ‘in the system’ on a regular basis, it’s easy to lose track of how big ‘organized medicine’ is. I parked at the Temple Street Garage and walked the sky bridge to the medical center’s building. After an elevator trip to the ground floor, I walked across a connecting lobby, then up another elevator to the radiology practice.

The waiting room is massive with magazines everywhere and a glass wall behind which the office staff sits. Because my stats are on file for Yale, they are on file here.

A nice woman behind the glass put a hospital bracelet on my left wrist. I went back and sat down to wait my turn.

Before I go on, let me say it’s good to be Geoff in New Haven. When people know you, and are nice to you, it makes an otherwise pedestrian experience enjoyable.

Today, people could not have been nicer. That’s not lost on me. I am grateful for their attention. I cannot understand the attitude of today’s big celebs who forget to be gracious and nice.

I was ushered through a door and into the inner sanctum of medicine. We were deep enough in the building for my cell phone to lose service. There were windowless halls leading to windowless rooms.

I ended up in an X-ray room (I’m sure there’s a proper technical term). Shoes and socks off again, I stretched out on a slab while my foot had a target projected onto it.

The technician threw a lead shield over my private parts! I suppose it’s some sort of historical site worthy of continued protection.

Bzzzz.

After three X-rays (now digital, thank you), I put my sock on, only to be requested to take another. No sweat.

A nice guy named John showed me my shots. A foot is crazy with bones. It’s tough to imagine how complex that part of your body is. He could see my tissue was swollen. There were no breaks!

So, now it’s on to physical therapy. I have an appointment for tomorrow afternoon.

Whatever bruise, tear and pull I have needs help to heal. And, I have to ask them to figure out exactly what I need to do to start exercising again.

I don’t want to lose my motivation. On the other hand, I also don’t want to limp.

Greetings From PBI

Our flight was scheduled to leave at 2:55 PM. Now it’s on the board for 3:15 PM. It makes no difference. We were here early anyway.

As we passed painlessly through security, I had an overhead announcement making the last call for a Southwest flight to Tampa, Phoenix, Las Vegas and Sacramento. That’s a lot of peanut and Diet Coke time between here and Sacto.

We’re at Gate B5, which isn’t a particularly long walk. Helaine found a seat right away, but I staked out our position in the Group “A” line.

Southwest doesn’t have reserved seats. As you check in, you are assigned a boarding group – A, B, or C. But, all A’s are called together, so one of us (that normally means Helaine) usually gets in line. Today it’s my turn.

The line for Group “A” is behind the check-in podium facing a bank of now removed payphones. The good news is, there are power outlets here. Good for me, with a laptop who’s battery stamina is measured in seconds.

What’s bad is, I’m sitting on my tush and this floor is very hard.

Someone just walked up to ask if this is the line for “A.” Yes. That’s the fith time this question has been asked.

With so many people in close proximity, there is no privacy. I’m listening to a guy right now having a business conversation on his cell phone. A few minutes ago a woman checked her messages using the speakerphone feature of her cellphone!

She quickly hit the switch when a message came in telling her the person speaking was in withdrawal and needed her help. Honest.

I took a look at our flight’s data on FlightAware.com. As I was looking, a woman nearby asked if there were weather problems on our route. I quickly called up the Weather Service composite radar for the US. No problem. She thinks I’m a road warrior god.

I expect Southwest will make up any delay during our stopover in Baltimore. We’ll be home later this evening.

This was a very short trip to Florida, but I’m glad we made it. It was nice to see them. Nice to hang out with them. Nice to leave before we wore out our welcome.

I’m Numberless

What’s your most organized time of the day? For me, it’s the thirty seconds that precede getting in the car for work.

Tie

check

Collar stays

check

Belt

check

Cell phone

check

Bluetooth

check

Wallet

check

Watch

check

Trust me – I’ve forgotten each of these at least once… some a lot more than once. The wallet and watch are the worst. If either of these are missing, I walk with a list!

Wow, this entry is just starting and I’m already off on a tangent.

Anyway, I left the house, turned on the phone, checked my messages and realized there was something I had to tell Helaine. She’s “9” on my speed dial.

Nothing. An error message told me slot 9 was unassigned.

Uh oh. Not good.

As I drove, I hit the button to see my phone numbers and… oh crap… nothing. All my entries are gone. It’s really not important how it happened, though I know it’s not my fault.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t dial most numbers anymore. I just find them in my phone book and hit send. My phone book has taken the place of my memory.

It’s possible there’s an old version somewhere on my computer at home. It’s certainly not a recent version, but it will get me started.

Meanwhile my friends Wendie, who got a new number with a job promotion and my friend Farrell, now in the Palm Springs area, are lost. I don’t even know his area code!

The awful thing about this kind of loss is that you don’t even know what you’re missing. If you’re leaving a message for me, please leave your number.

Blogger’s note: Somehow, I managed to find a month’s old backup on my backup PC. I now start the task of updating numbers that have changed.

The Sky Is Blue

Yes, I know Nevada can be excruciatingly hot during the summer, but right now, it’s heaven. Temperatures have been in the 70s during the day with zero cloudiness!

What’s not to like?

My poker playing continues my head’s still above water. I decided to try the afternoon tournament at Caesars Palace.

When I first came to Las Vegas in 1975, Caesars is where I stayed. The original buildings are still there somewhere, but not in a form recognizable by me.

Back then a parking lot sat between the hotel and Las Vegas Blvd. Over the years, more and more has been built in that space and every other space.

The poker room at Caesars is new, spacious and nicely furnished. More important for me, the structure of the poker tournament is excellent. You get a lot of chips and the blinds increase slowly. That benefits a more conservative player, like me.

I still lost my $130 buy-in, placing well back in the pack.

I headed back to the Mirage to nap. A ‘wrong number’ to my home phone, which is begin forwarded to my cell phone, woke me after 30 minutes. Nap over.

I called Helaine and found she had walked dow the block to the Bellagio. I headed out to meet her. In our opinion, Bellagio’s buffet is the best on the Strip. We decided we’d have a buffet dinner there.

Meanwhile, it was early for dinner, so I sat down in Bellagio’s poker room. It was jammed. Actually, it was too jammed!

The poker tables and seats are much too close together for my liking. The room is pretty with a beautiful ceiling, but I’m not on the ceiling. It just wasn’t a particularly comfortable place to play.

I won back around $40. That was Bellagio’s saving grace.

Our nighttime plans took us to the Flamingo Hotel for Second City. Second City is an improv comedy troupe. It is named for, and has its base in, Chicago.

The show was very good… very funny. The theater is fairly small, so even though we sat in the back, the sight lines and sound were good.

I know Second City claims to be improv, and maybe these routines were originally improvised, but there seemed to be very little improvising going on last night. I’m not disappointed, just puzzled.

Before bed, I decided to play some more poker. I found a table at the Mirage which was a miniature United Nations. There was a Chinese man, Laotian woman, and at least two other accents I didn’t recognize. This at a table of nine players.

For the first time on this trip, I thought I played poorly and quickly dug a hole for myself. I was too interested in playing hands – that’s bad. By the time I righted myself, a stack and a half of the chips in front of me had been distributed to other players.

I bore down and scraped back. I was getting closer to even, when I was dealt two Aces. This table was so aggressive, I was able to bet strongly at each stage of the game without scaring everyone away.

The Aces held against another player’s Jacks, and I walked away up $29.

I continue to be ahead at the poker tables on this trip. I’m not up a lot. More importantly, I’m not down.

How Do They Know It’s Us?

Helaine is out-of-town for a few days. She left from Hartford this morning.

Yesterday afternoon we spent about twenty minutes, including a call to Southwest, trying to ascertain if food was as explosive (and restricted by the TSA) as mouthwash or toothpaste.

It is not.

She left Bradley and flew to BWI Airport outside Baltimore. Terminal B arrival. Terminal A departure.

Southwest flies to Houston’s Hobby Airport’s (I wish it were professional as opposed to a hobby&#185), and this particular flight went to Gate 50. Yes, there are gate numbers higher, but none more remote.

How do they always know we’re coming to make it as far as is humanly possible? They do, you know.

A few years ago, when it was a United hub, we changed planes in Denver. We literally walked the walk between their two farthest gates. It was like taking the tour of DEN!

Another night, changing at Detroit’s Wayne County Airport (DTW if you’re checking your baggage tags) we were so far away, with so little time, I slipped some money to a person driving one of those long motorized carts and got chauffeured.

The terminal was so crowded, I’m still not sure we ran someone down. I closed my eyes except when I was staring down my watch. We got to the gate in the nick of time… well, it would have been if the flight hadn’t been delayed.

Back in my SciFi Channel days I changed planes in Minneapolis. I was talking on the cell phone walking slowly to my gate – 15. As I walked, I passed 19, 18, 17, 16, 31, 30, 29!

You’ve got to be kidding. They were out of order! I almost missed that plane.

Of course this is one reason I enjoy flying from Tweed New Haven Airport so much. There’s only one gate currently in use. Unfortunately, you can only fly to Philadelphia.

Actually, if more airlines would come in to New Haven, I’d promise not to kvetch about the walk.

&#185 – I know, Hobby was a Texas governor – Governor William Pettus Hobby. I just can’t resist cheap humor.

The Remote Control

Remember when you had to get up to change channels on TV? Life was so much simpler then.

Actually, in the TV business, life was so much more lucrative and predictable then. You didn’t have to worry about 30 seconds of uninteresting programming driving an audience away. That’s why you could have ‘variety’ shows, like Ed Sullivan, who might have an opera singer, juggler, and Elvis all on the same night.

I digress.

My pocket vibrated last night at the station. Helaine was on the cell phone. The remote for the TV in the bedroom had stopped working. Did I have a clue what might be wrong?

I did. But there was no way to fix it remotely (ha – I made myself laugh).

What probably happened was the code reset button was inadvertently pressed and held. The remote started speaking Mandarin instead of English – or so it would have seemed to the TV.

Do you have the instruction sheet for your remote(s)? Me neither. Though it’s a Magnavox/Philips, their websites had no info.

Google, don’t fail me now.

I popped open the remote, looking for a model number. Of course, there’s nothing but the manufacturers names on the outside. On either side of the battery was a sticker with some numbers and letters. I took a guess and entered “cl015” into a search box.

On the first entry I found pay dirt. The site was remotecentral.com and it was filled with postings like this:

I have the CL015, and a Mitsubishi TV- I moved and my code manual was lost in the shuffle, we are set up in our new place and now that the v=codes are gone it is very inconvenient if any one has a code list please email jmmansuri@yahoo.com

And this:

I have a philips-magnavox universal remote that controls six components but the only model number I can find says CLO13 by the batteries. I lost the instruction manual for it and I need to know how to program it for my Zenith tv. If someone could please help me out I would really appreciate it. My e-mail address is garciasg83@hotmail.com. Thanks.

How many remotes get thrown out every day because there’s no easy way to make them work?

We have at least ten, maybe more. The family room table often holds three – TV, DVD, cable box. And, even though some say “Universal Remote,” they never control all the functions.

I HAVE A PHILLIPS MAGNOVOX UNIVERSAL REMOTE MODLE REM110Z, I LOST MY INSTRUCTION PAGE WITH THE CODE NUMBERS AND HOW TO SET IT UP PLEASE HELP!!

So sad.

The correct answer to all the questions was posted by someone going by the name Abrodino. He is today’s good Samaritan in the Fox house.

April 1st At The Geeks

It is April Fools Day. We have Photoshop. Let the games begin!

My favorite, so far, today comes from the Geeks. Every day I get an emailed ad from these people. I seldom buy, but I always look. I, after all, am a geek. Most days I’d like to be buying what they’re selling.

I began to read today’s ad and immediately knew what it was. The problem is, the product described is getting very close to really existing. When it does, I want one!

No, actually, I want one now. And that’s no April Fools joke.

Friday Night With A Clarification

Aboard the Norwegian Star

In the morning we’ll be docking at Manzanillo. We’re under 200 miles away.

I haven’t found anyone to go to the volcano with, so I’ll be on my own – which might actually be better. I’ll let you know.

Earlier today when I looked at this website, I realized it looks like the ship is jammed with people. It’s really not like that. Just an unlucky choice of shots I suppose.

Most of the time, there’s plenty of room to stretch out or go at your own pace. Many areas (and this might be on purpose) seem perfect for introspection.

We went back to Aqua for dinner tonight. Once again, it was excellent. I had a steak with a banana based dessert. In fact we all had the steak.

I like Aqua better than Versailles. They both have the same menu, but Aqua wins on decor. I especially liked the artwork, which from a distance seemed to be ceramic.

I mentioned this to someone at a hold’em tableand he felt just the opposite. I’m not saying it’s the right opinion, just that it’s my opinion.

Each table at Aqua had a small candle flickering away. Nice touch until I noticed someone at an adjacent table playing with his. It was actually a solid state light, programmed to flicker and look like a candle.

Where has the romance gone?

Our table was at the window. That was nice until the Sun went down. It is pitch black outside the ship, especially when there are clouds.

It has since cleared, and I’m on the balcony looking at a sky full of stars. The only thing that breaks the night is the translucent plume of smoke trailing us. The wind must be blowing from port to starboard.

Since Wednesday evening the ship has been moving through the Pacific. With light seas it’s easy to forget you’re moving. There’s no noticable noise when you’re inside.

On the other hand, if you’re on deck it’s unavoidable, as water is rushing by constantly.

Every once in a while, I feel myself swoon and think, “I must be tired.” I guess swooning is something I do when I’m tired, but never think about. On the ship it’s just a reaction to the slight sway we’re constantly under. It’s funny how the mind works with unusual stimuli.

If you watch the wake along the side or rear of the ship you realize our motion is part of a complex interaction with the sea itself. The wake is never quite the same over any stretch of time, though patterns do repeat. It would be interesting to see it plotted out.

Most people think a ship’s rock pivots from the keel. There are actually multiple pivot points and they’re constantly changing. The ship is rocking side-to-side, front-to-back and other ways I haven’t thought of, all at once!

I hope I’m making myself clear. This is a tough concept to try and explain.

The ship itself is quite complex. It seems as if no space is left unused. That’s especially true in the hallways were there are utility closets and storage lockers in the space between cabin.

I noticed a piece of electronics hanging on a wall and came in for a closer look. It’s a cellular telephone site – in the hallway! I saw another one earlier on the side of an open deck.

The ships officers communicate with cell phones in their own mini-network. Passengers can buy in for outrageously expensive calls back home.

Fire is a huge concern. Fire at sea is incredibly dangerous. You can’t go more than a few feet without seeing a smoke detector or sprinkler head. There are also storage lockers with fire fighting equipment. On the water, we’re on our own.

As big as this ship is it’s easy to get lost, so there are flooplans all over the place. I was surprised earlier today, looking to go the stern, to look at the water rushing by the ship and still go the wrong way!

Tonight’s entertainment was Dave Heenan, a comedian from New York though he sounded Irish to me). He is living proof that good stage presence trumps good material, since he was better than his material would indicate.

He is a large man… maybe immense is a better word. He uses that to his own advantage, making fun of himself.

Helaine and Stef laughed a lot. I did too. I was surprised to hear him tell a joke I heard Allan King tell on Ed Sullivan at least 45 years ago.

Later in the week he’ll be performing in a lounge, and I’ll try and see him again. I guess that’s endorsement enough.

By the time I post this, I should be back from the volcano. I do want to keep the blog up-to-date (a labor of love for me), but I also want my vacation.

So far, it’s a ball.

Improv – More To The Story

After an attempted nap, I sat down to play poker. It wasn’t long before a man sat down two seats to my left. He looked familiar.

When he stood up to make a cell phone call, I realized it was Bud Freedman, owner-founder of the Improv. I wasn’t totally sure, so I kept my mouth shut.

When the dealer referred to him as Bud, I knew.

Bud Freedman is to comedy as Benny Binion was to poker. Bud had a comedy club long before that was the thing to do. And to say the majority of the big names in comedy played his clubs is not hyperbole.

I told him I had something to say, but I didn’t want to kvetch. I explained we had been to the show last night, told him where we sat and that the sound was awful.

He seemed concerned. He also had the exact correct and gracious response. He offered to host us another night, his treat, front and center.

I didn’t take him up on his offer. We’re committed. Still, I was impressed.

You don’t survive in business as long as he had without serving your customers. I’ll bet the sound system is looked at tonight and fixed as quickly as is possible.

At least I hope that’s what happens.

I Didn’t Know I Was This Nice

My friend Farrell’s mom, Ruth, has been interviewed again about her escape from New Orleans.

Every time she tells the story, I become a bigger hero. It’s now the “Legend of Geoff Fox.”

Seriously, this was a call anyone with info would make to the parent of a close friend. I am glad Ruth escaped New Orleans unscathed. I’m glad she listened to her family and friends, because I know in her heart she very much wanted to stay.

The story from the Valley Gazette continues at the jump.

Continue reading “I Didn’t Know I Was This Nice”

Death Seems To Be No Excuse

This is a story about a good friend of mine. A few months ago, tragically, his wife died. Anything you can possibly think of concerning people who die much too young is applicable in her death&#185.

When someone dies, the surviving spouse begins to go through the process of letting the world know what’s happened. You would think, and my friend confirms, most people are understanding. It’s an awkward situation and people walk on egg shells trying to be accommodating and respectful.

That’s what makes what’s happened with his wife’s cell phone account so puzzling and troubling. They had an account with Verizon Wireless. Without going into all the details, my friend can’t seem to get things straightened out with his wife’s part of the account.

He was first told they didn’t need a copy of her death certificate, then they did. He faxed the death certificate and spoke to the person who received it. Later, another person said they had not received it! Yet another customer service operator said they’d only waive the early termination fee if it was the primary holder (it’s under his name) who had died.

As of earlier today, his wife’s cell account was closed, but the early termination fee was outstanding – around $150. A concerned Verizon employee at one of their phone stores has taken up his cause, but so far, nothing’s changed.

I told my friend the easiest way to fix this is to go to a local TV station or newspaper and have them tell his story. It wouldn’t take long for the cell company to see the cost of bad publicity and retreat.

Why, after everything else he’s gone through, should he be subjected to this?

&#185 – She was very private and asked that her death not be mentioned in any public forums, which is why I am not using his or her names.

It’s All Over In Birmingham

I’m sitting in a corner of the lobby of the Radisson Hotel in Birmingham typing this blog entry. Most of my classmates have gone home or gone to lunch. As a chronic snacker, I’ve already had my fill.

We spent all day Friday seeing presentations and lectures. There were a few given by Weather Service personnel from here in the south. What they said was fine, but it was really about types of weather I just don’t deal with… and never expect to deal with.

Later, one of the Mississippi State instructors presented a case study for us to analyze. Again, it was interesting, but it dealt with a type of storm we never see in the east.

Finally, as the afternoon was ending (it was actually evening by then), we began another session of tape watching.

While it was going on, I thought I was the only one dreading this. Later I found nearly everyone was self conscious and petrified of what their classmates would think.

Isn’t strange how we can go on the air, in front of thousands (sometimes millions) of viewers without a second thought. But, to show our work in front of a room full of our peers is a weak kneed moment!

My tape was pulled. I stood up to say a few words before it played. I attempted to crack a small joke at my own expense. Silence. Tough room.

The tape played and I was really squirming. I think it was OK and, of course, the polite comments were very nice. Who can really tell?

What impressed me more than anything were the few people who had no background in broadcasting or weather, adults who had decided to begin a new midlife career and registered for the MSU program. A few of them were the program’s best students.

The session ended around 7:30 and I headed to the room. I was fully intending to stay there for the rest of the evening until I called Helaine. She accused me of acting like an old person. I was in Birmingham. Have a good time.

I changed my shirt and headed to the lobby.

A few groups were organizing, deciding where to go. I joined a group of 14, and we headed to Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but there’s no way to say this restaurant chain’s name without sounding like you’re mispronouncing it.

We entered the restaurant and were escorted to a small, private room. That was perfect, because we didn’t want to disturb the other diners, and we certainly didn’t want them to disturb us!

I had lamb chops and broiled tomatoes. The chops were beautifully seasoned, thick and very tasty. I started to explain to the waiter how I wanted them cooked. He just looked at me and said, “Pittsburgh?”

Exactly, Pittsburgh. Some burn on the outside, but more medium in the center.

We left the restaurant and headed back to the hotel. On the way, some decided to go to Danny’s, a local bar. This time I took a pass and continued to the Radisson. There was, after all, another morning of class to come.

I have been getting up very early (for me) on this trip. Even though my commute was by elevator, I was still out of bed by 7:30 AM. That’s just wrong.

Today was the final session. A practice test&#185

Hold on… cell phone. Uh oh! Words I never want to hear.

“Hello, Mr. Fox. It’s Mary from Delta Airlines calling.” This is not a social call. “Unfortunately, your flight from Birmingham to Cincinnati has been canceled.”

This blog entry will be picked up when I get back to Connecticut.

pause

Where were we?

In order to successfully finish the course, you need an 80 on a two hour, 100 question comprehensive test. It covers all three years. How could you possibly study?

On the other hand, the instructors have told us 90% of those taking this test pass on the first try. People with A’s and B’s always pass the first time.

I took the sample test. The benchmark was 55 answers correct on this shortened test, to pass. I got 54 right! Better luck next time.

As I checked around the room I realized, I wasn’t alone. This test might have been a little harder, and it certainly wasn’t an open book test, as the real one will be. On a test like this, where I’ll probably know 75% of the answers immediately, open book will be the difference.

There were also awards handed out. I did very well at MSU and was thrilled to receive, along with six others, an award for academic excellence.

You may have noticed, as the photographer, I’m not in many pictures. Well, for this award I handed the camera to another student and walked to the front. At least this one achievement should be documented.

That is how the photo came out of the camera!

Even more impressive, a few of the awards were captured by people who had never been on the air! This course was their first meteorological experience and they scored all A’s. That’s astounding.

We finished off our sessions with a talk about the qualifications for the American Meteorological Society Broadcast Seal. The AMS is transitioning to some new criteria for the seal. In fact, though I’ll be grandfathered in, it’s obvious the AMS is trying to diminish the Mississippi State program in favor of four year, calculus based degree programs.

It’s ridiculous, because the MSU program is more than sufficient for an on-the-air forecaster. It seems to me, this is only a way for the ‘traditional’ on-campus meteorology programs to avoid competition.

The AMS is also starting a Certified Broadcast Meteorologist program, which I will not qualified for! I didn’t have meteorology classes that were calculus based. Of course, no one in operational meteorology ever uses any calculus to produce a forecast!

Angry? Me? Sure – a little bit. I knew all of this going into the AMS program. It’s the meteorological equivalent of a protective tariff.

So, that’s it. The program’s over. I have not yet taken the comprehensive test, but my instructor instructed me to begin referring to myself as a meteorologist… and I will.

And then, that phone call from Mary at Delta!

We spoke for a few seconds, and things didn’t sound promising. Then, I said I’d be willing to fly to Hartford and have Helaine drive me to New Haven to pick up my car.

Perfect.

Delta would move me to an earlier Birmingham to Cincinnati flight and then take me to Hartford. I’d be over 50 miles from my car, but I’d be in Connecticut three hours earlier than previously scheduled.

I packed up my gear and hopped into the hotel’s airport van. Three guys in airline uniforms joined me. As it turned out, they were my crew to Cincinnati.

We got to talking and before long I was asking them, then telling them about meteorology. The pilot, a kite surfer, was looking for a better way to predict ocean winds. I made a recommendation.

Later, during the flight, he congratulated me on passing my course on the plane’s PA system. How embarrassing.

So, now I’m home. I’m really tired, but I’ll be better tomorrow. Going to Birmingham turned out to be a better, more valuable trip than I anticipated (not that I had any choice in going)

&#185 – Even though I have totally completed the course of study, there is a comprehensive test of 100 questions in two hours that I’ll have to take within the next few weeks.

Camouflage Cell Tower

I was invited to go to the Yankees/Angels game at Yankee Stadium. I’m just too exhausted to write it up now. I will tomorrow.

I brought “Clicky” the camera and went a little nuts. There are a few shots I’m pretty happy with.

Meanwhile, on our way to New York from Connecticut, we stopped at a rest area on the Hutchinson River Parkway in Westchester County. Square foot for square foot this might be the most profitable retail business in the world! Their convenience store is jam packed 24/7.

It’s what’s on the edge of the rest area that attracted me the most. There is a cell phone tower, disguised to look like a tree.

The problem is, not only doesn’t it look like a tree, it looks like a thumbed nose insult to anyone who really thought this cell tower was going to blend in with the background.

I don’t know the process that went on, but I can’t believe anyone is happy with this – not the people who thought it might spoil their view, not the company who paid for its erection.

Recently there’s been a huge clamor about a cell tower to be built near the shores of Lake George in the Adirondacks. If this is the way their tower will be ‘hidden’, I understand the tumult.

Before I sound like a radical, if given the choice between this tower, on a major highway, and having no cell service, the tower would stay.