Before Commute Time Commute

1.24.2020

Have you ever tried to take off compression stockings after a ten hour flight?  They become permanent body paint.

Running shoes back on, I prepare myself for the mile hike from the United terminal to the customs area, all underground.  Above me, planes rumble past.  The Concorde is up there for viewing, no longer in service.  Last year, I stood in Custom's Disneyland lines for 2.5 hours waiting while the workers did a slowdown work strike.  Something out of Pajama Game.  This year, the U.S., Canada, and other Commonwealth countries have been added to the European Union line.  I open my passport, put it face down in the scanner, and walk on.  No humans question me, and I never miss a stride heading out to baggage claim.

I 've never checked a bag going overseas.  Would Jean's Pledge Multi-Service Cleaner plastic bottles be broken?  More importantly, would my 96 point Geodesy wine be intact, or did it break inside my boots?  Would everything be covered under a proprietary red blend?

I decide not to look until I get to Jean's flat.  I knew the drill.  Heathrow Express, Paddington Station, Tube, and a long walk from London Bridge to the Tower Bridge.  I time my commute, and I'm talking to her doorman at 3:35 p.m.  We landed at 1:37, I was off the plane at 1:50, had my bag at 2:10.  I had the option of sitting on the Piccadilly line.   How could this journey be better?  All of my pre-trip anxieties became joy when I saw the Tower Bridge in the fading light.  I will try to deserve this.

Fort Jenyth in row 50

1.23.2020

I resisted the temptation to upgrade my cheap flight.  Again.  Originally, it was 328.00.  Then I offered to bring some cleaning supplies to my friend Jean and realized I would have to check a bag.  There's another 50.00.  Then I saw the best seat on the plane was open.  In the second to last row on a Boeing 777, there are two seats.  That means you can put your humongous, overfilled backpack under the aisle seat in front of you, and have leg room under the middle seat.  I snagged it.  Airfare now 428.00.  Still a bargain.

But, this morning, I saw a Premier class seat open with a sleeping pod.  I've never been in any class other than public-school-back-of-the-plane-economy with the tired and overworked flight attendants. Would it be worth 800.00 to sleep and have the beautiful ones bring decent wines?  Nah.  Business class had two open seats for an additional 210.00.  It appeared those seats reclined as well.    The plane hadn't sold many seats.  17 people were on the free upgrade list for Premier, but only 2 on the free upgrade list for business.  So, they wanted to sell those seats instead of giving free upgrades.  I understood that.  What is this pricing strategy?  I was experiencing my daughter's world of behavioral economics:

Demand Based Pricing is a pricing method based on the customer's demandand the perceived value of the product. In this method the customer's responsiveness to purchase the product at different prices is compared and then an acceptable price is set. 

If you've ever bought an event ticket on the secondary market, you've experienced demand based pricing.  By the time I figured what was happening, the two seats were gone.

Well, I kept my 51B.  Last boarding group.  In rows 44-46 were a dozen British businessmen, clearly drunk from their last call.  Several delightful attendants greeted me in the back of the plane, and one said in a lovely British accent, "We've only 77 passengers on the plane, so once we're at 30,000 feet, you may change your seat."  I'd been thinking about that all day, yet my seat was the best.

I could smell delicious food? On a plane?  The trolleys didn't stop by me.  I leaned my head out about 90 minutes into the flight and caught the eye of the surfer dude attendant.  "Yo, I know you're there.  I don't think they gave us enough dinners," he sighed.  A young British attendant looked distressed.  I opened my bag of pretzels.  The third attendant asked me how I felt about Ravioli Florentine.  I said I loved it.  He returned with an extra Premier class (actually hot) dinner, complete with a tiny bottle of Chateau Lafitte Bourgogne.  I rarely drink on a plane, but I didn't want to disappoint the chef who had married the meal and wine.

After dinner, the thought of a fulling reclining business seat sounded so appealing.  I could make my own:  a row of three seats with the armrests up.  I made the move to row 50.  The Brits were still singing, softer now, and United provided three pillows and three blankets per row as well.  Time to make a fort.

In the old days of flying Southwest with my girls, we'd get the last two rows on the plane during early boarding.  Three seats facing front, three facing back, and a playpen on the floor. (Don't judge - I was never a germaphobe.)  Those were the pre-9/11 days of no TSA and lots of fun making forts with blankets and having pillow fights.  In honor of the girls I left behind, I put up the armrests, took three blankets and made a tent top over the seats.  Six unused pillows meant no seat belt buckles digging into my back, and I was off to Lala land.   The young British attendant looked underneath and I showed her my fastened seatbelt.  I'm in first class.

1.23.2020

New garden at the end of the United International Terminal.  My TSA-pre status allowed me plenty of time to walk the entire terminal and catch the sunset and a fellow traveler's magenta sweater.  Not sure how I would interpret the metal sculpture but it does say something.

Late night in Carnaby Street

13 December in CA, 14  Dec. in London

A little farther down the road, we head into my long lost past as a punk rocker wannabe.  I wonder what Carnaby Street has designed this year?  Well, of course!  An homage to Freddie Mercury:

Many famous lines are written across the street.  Here's another one:

And down the side street with the Tapas restaurant I love, we find a dual entry.  On one side, it says Ho Ho Ho and looking the other way it ways Oh Oh Oh!

Life is...

Looking up at light sculptures in London.

All is well.

No Customer Service in Customs

I mean, really.  This wasn't due to a work stoppage?  An employee sick out was clearly happening right in front of my eyes.  We started with 5 agents, then one by one they left until nobody was stamping passports!

1 hour and 55 minutes standing in a line of 150 people.  By the time we got to the front, there were at least 400 people behind us.  Why, you are asking?  Only ONE agent checking non-EU/UK passports!  And again, at times, no agents were working.  A lady missed a connecting flight when she thought a two hour layover was enough time...We had 6 employees in purple coats directing traffic, one agent checking frequent travelers, and 1 checking our passports.  When the family of 5 was up there with a language barrier and took 30 minutes to get through, I wanted to scream at someone.  Here's the sign that kept flashing on the overhead monitor:

So many things could be said, but I know it's going to be pitch black when we get outside.

But, we do, and thanks to our wonderful friends, we are staying at the London Bridge townhouse of P.D. James.  Here's the view walking to her home:

Now, that feels like England!  Here's what the Regent Street decorations are this year:

Remember remember the 12th of December

12 December

What great students I have!  We have everything in order in the classroom for a solid finals week.  And the seniors are in for a surprise:  they will be using their acquired knowledge of heroes, anti-heroes, tragic heroes, villains, and damsels in distress to analyze the literary archetypes in Phantom of the Opera.  I wonder what they'll think about the Phantom, one of the most famous and tragic villains of all time?  They earned this break!  All of their college applications are in, and decisions are about to be made for the early round of admissions.

And I?  Feeling a bit guilty, but so excited to travel to the U.K. and hopefully France in the upcoming weeks.  It all depends upon Brexit and the gilets jaunes (Yellow Jackets) protests.  Blogger autocorrect wants to call them the filet jaunts, which is about the level of my French.  I feel a poem coming on...

Filet jaunts
before Phantom haunts
with tear gas along
the Champs E'lysee...
What a way to pack:
Masks from the Paradise fires
In case I need them in Paris-dise.
Colors for the day:  pink and gray.

Teach school.  Quadruple-check the lesson plans, grades, etc.  Say good-bye to everyone.  Check the packing list.  Again.  Wonder what I've forgotten.  I've been looking forward to this day for so long.

Get into the car and drive to the airport with an hour of stoppage time.  We need it:  Left home at 4:30, arrived at 6:15 for an 8:20 flight.  Fortunately the car park was working.  Glide through check-in easily - I have never checked bags for an international flight, but am feeling "brilliant" as the English say.  I put my own bag inside of my daughter's bag and checked them both.  Not sure how it will be coming back with a huge bag full of stuff, along with mine, but I'll deal with it.  Can't wait to see her!  But first, it's time to find my seat in the very last row.

Alas, the cheap seats are cheap for a reason.  The velcro underneath my seat does not attach the cushion underneath the seat back, so I am sitting on a metal bar.  I do have plenty of leg room, as I'm in a "twin" seat, which means there is no aisle seat next to me, but there is room under the aisle seat in front of me.  This I knew when I booked the seat.  Thankfully, a wonderful steward hangs up my new winter coat, gives me free wine and a nice blanket, so I pad up the back and recline.  Ahh.  Time for reading and a nap.

Poet Laureate 3

11 December 2018

First reading at City Hall. Third reading so far.
I read "New Lights" to a packed house and started off facing the City Council.  There was a running joke about the height of the microphone, so I read the poem while doing a 360 turn around said microphone.  I was able to make eye contact with all parts of the room that way, and saw local congresspeople, contractors, citizens, police officers, and fans of the town.

It was great to talk with outgoing council member Harry Sachs, and cheer for incoming member Sabina Zafar.  It's going to be a great year for San Ramon!

Our Christmas tree is red, white and blue!