An Inauspicious Start

We leave for our big Morocco Trip today, and we're pretty much ready. Except for one thing. I lost my camera. My Canon 40D, with the 28-135 IS lens. Needless to say, I'm pretty pissed, as I was really looking forward to taking the best pictures I was capable of in Africa.

How did I lose it? I left it in the back seat of my Avis rental car at the Philadelphia airport. Yes, that was pretty dumb. I was at work in Pennsylvania all week, and had been leaving it in the car while I was working , since cameras are prohibited there, and that worked out fine. But when it was time to leave, I moved it to the back seat so it wouldn't get crushed by the luggage. When we dropped the car off, I must have forgotten to check the back seat. I don't know how. That's very unlike me. I'm usually pretty anal about checking rental cars, hotel rooms etc., and I've never left anything in either place before.

I didn't realize it was gone until this morning when I went to clean off my compact flash cards. I called Avis, and they've checked the safes and no one has turned it in. My only hope now is that it's still in the car with the next renter, and that they and anyone else who has come in contact with it is a moral, ethical person and does the right thing and turns it in to Avis lost and found at the Philadelphia airport.

That being said, we still have three other cameras that are going with us. I have my Sony DSC-H2 back from a friend we had loaned it to, but now I've got to go get some memory stick pro duo cards on the way to JFK airport. I'm determined to not let this ruin our trip, and I'll sort out whatever options may be available to me when I get back.

Wish us luck, and we'll update en route or when we get back.

Update 7/25. The camera has not reappeared. Avis has been no help, Johnson Controls Travel Department has been no help. Right now I'm considering the camera stolen. The thugs at Avis stole my camera. Still trying to figure out what options I may have on replacement.

Anatomy of a Business Trip

It was time to return to Pennsylvania for work, this time a three-day, two-night trip.

Now generally, I'm one of those strange people that not only doesn't mind business travel, I actually enjoy it. Maybe because I haven't done it so much that I've become a jaded road warrior, or maybe it's just my nature to enjoy being on the road. Granted, southeastern PA is the farthest thing from an exotic location to me, being that it is the homeland and all, but at least I know my way around.

Leave the house at 6:00 Wednesday morning, drive to RDU, park, take the shuttle from Purple 3 (the official economy parking lot of The Traveling Roths) to the A terminal. Ridiculous "security" procedures, and an on-time departure from gate 22 on a Canadair small jet.

RDU Departure Hosted on Zooomr

On-time arrival at PHL via runway 35, which runs perpendicular to the main 9R-27L and 9L-27R runways that parallel the Delaware river. This was very disorienting as I didn't even realize they still used that runway for commercial traffic.

Get the rental car (a Chevy Cobalt) and off to West Conshohocken. Meet up with Bill, my PA counterpart, and work on a reporting project all morning.

For lunch, Bill suggested Cifelli's in Bridgeport. . . just up PA 23.

Cifelli's Hosted on Zooomr

It's a tiny deli that's been around a long time, but just changed ownership. I didn't see a menu, but I knew that if I ordered an Italian Hoagie, they'd probably know what I meant. I didn't know what they meant, however, when they set wrapped sandwich down on the counter and called out, "Shad?". Shad?!? Isn't that a fish? What the hell kind of messed up hoagie was that? Bill pointed to it and said, "That's yours." No way. Seriously? Bill then explained that the "shad" referred to the special homemade roll that was the specialty of the house, and that my sandwich remained fish-free. Oh. OK. Freak-out averted. We took our food back to GSK and ate in the break room. No surprise here, but it was a great sandwich, complemented with some Herr's Kettle Cooked Sour Cream and Onion chips (which you also can't get in North Carolina) and some Canada Dry Vanilla Cream Soda.

Shad Hosted on Zooomr

Back to work for the rest of the afternoon. The weather was really nice for Pennsylvania in winter, getting up close to 80F. Can't complain about that. After work, I checked in to my hotel, the Hampton Inn in King of Prussia. I have to admit, it's weird staying in a hotel in KoP, but I got used to it. I drove out to the folks' house with the initial intention of surprising Mom on her birthday, but since Dad hadn't responded to my e-mails or messages on his cell phone, I'd be surprising him too. And surprised they were. I gave Mom her card and present, and without too much difficulty, convinced them that they needed to go out to eat. We went to Longhorn in one of those Chester County strip malls that was just a horse farm a year or two ago.

After dinner and some hanging out, it was back to the hotel.

Thursday. It was still pretty warm, but it was raining. I was invited to sit in on a staff meeting at the Upper Providence (Collegeville) site that I've never actually been in before. The UP site was one I used to drive past twice a day when I worked in Conshohocken back in 93-94. At the time, I had wished that I worked there. It was some other company back then, and the rumor was that they paid people with backgrounds like mine something in the neighborhood of $30,000, which was a far cry from the $9/hr I was making at the time. Now I did work there. . . kind of. . . in a sense. I at least now have a GSK ID badge with my picture on it that opens the gates and doors.

After the morning meeting, it was back to the Upper Merion (aka West Conshohocken) site. Maureen had picked up a paper shopping bag full of Philly soft pretzels, which is not uncommon at businesses in that area, but it turns out there is a chain of pretzel stores that sells Philly-style pretzels. Finally! Now I enjoy an allegedly Amish mall pretzel covered in chocolate jimmies and gummi bears or whatever they coat them with as much as the next guy, but a Philly pretzel is where it's at for my taste. The late nights leaving the Spectrum after a concert, usually with Andy, buying five pretzels for a buck from some shady character with a stolen shopping cart full of them, and washing it down with a warm $1 can of soda. What could be more wonderful? Now the Philadelphia Soft Pretzel Factory can bring that little authentic taste of Philly to an affordably-priced franchise opportunity near you.

Philly Soft Pretzel Factory Hosted on Zooomr

But I digress. . . . Back to work. Lunch at the cafeteria, where Aramark also provides their over-priced, under-delicious food, and disturbingly, people dressed in scrubs eat lunch in the same room as those of us wearing clean clothing. More work for the afternoon.

After work, I made the reverse commute back to the folks' for some corned beef and cabbage for dinner, and the chance to rewire Dad's stereo, and bring the nice TV in from the RV. At least there was no sailboat transit involved. I took a ride through Pottstown on the way back, and found the location of their Philly Soft Pretzel Factory franchise. It's on East High Street, in the little strip mall where Arthur Treacher's Fish and Chips used to be, next to Pat's Beverage. (That description is for the benefit of my brothers, and anyone else from around there who has moved away, who also find the historical references more useful than modern ones.)

Friday morning, and I already had the feeling it was going to be a long day. The forecast was for wintry precip, and before I even opened the shades on my room, I could hear the ice pellets bouncing off the air conditioner. All through the morning, flights were being canceled at the PHL airport, but my 5:30 direct flight to RDU was allegedly still on. With that being the case, and the sleet starting to pick up, it was clear that I'd have to leave even more time to get to the airport.

But I didn't have to leave so early as to miss eating lunch at my favorite Conshohocken eatery, Flanigan's Boathouse.

Flanigan's Boathouse Hosted on Zooomr

Bill had spoken so highly of the crabcake sandwich the last time we were there (see July 2006) that I knew I had to try it. Bill was right. The chunks of crab were as big as lump crabmeat-sized pieces of chicken, plus The Boathouse has the best seasoned salt-seasoned fries around. You also get a souvenir cup to take with you!

We trudged back through the slush to the car, and drove back to the work. The afternoon was short, as everyone was admonishing me, "You'd better leave now." Crap. I had planned on swinging through Norristown to get some pretzels to take home, but now I was paranoid about not getting to the airport in time for my alleged flight.

It turns out the drive to PHL wasn't all that bad by Philly standards. I had plenty of time, even with returning my rental car. I couldn't believe what I saw in the terminal. The lines were interminable. (See what I did there?)

Queue? Hosted on Zooomr

I don't know if it was all people who had been stranded, or just people that hadn't bothered to check-in before getting to the airport, or maybe had baggage to check. Because I've flown on airplanes before, I:

1. checked-in online 24 hours in advance,
2. don't check luggage

So I went almost right to my gate to wait, bypassing all the lines. There were huge lines at the gate agents too. One agent completely lost it on the customer in front of her, and left, leaving probably 50 or so people in the now absolutely not moving line. I love watching stuff like that, especially when it's not my fault.

But allegedly my flight was still on-time. Until about 45 minutes before departure, when it was canceled. Why they took this long to figure this out, I have no idea. So now it was a quick call to my corporate travel department to figure out some options. They found me three hotels ranging in price from ~$150 to $290 for one night, and ranging in proximity from four miles away up to however many miles Center City is. So once this information was presented to me, I decided on the cheap one and tried to book it only to find out that it was now sold out. Uh-oh. Try the midpriced option. Sold out. The $290 hotel was still there, and we started to book it when I inquired if I could still get a rental car. My awesome travel arranger found me one with unlimited miles and no drop-off charge. I would be driving to North Carolina. I figured with the extra night, plus who-knows-when I'd be able to depart the next day (or the day after that, it turns out) it became one of those "If I had driven I could've been home by now" situations. So I'd drive.

Now it was off to the Hertz building, passing this grounded plane with a ground crew guy shoveling snow. Literally. (That's him by the plane's right winglet.)

Grounded Hosted on Zooomr

Even though I had a reservation, I waited at Hertz for three hours to get my car. There were probably 150-200 people in front of me.

Hurts Hosted on Zooomr

When I did finally get my car, I was not disappointed. They gave me a 2006 Volvo S60, with traction control, heated seats, a special "weather" driving mode. . . the works.

Swedish Sled Hosted on Zooomr

So by 8:30, I was on the road, presumably. I couldn't actually see the road through all the accumulated snow/sleet, but that didn't stop me from trying to lose traction in the Volvo; flooring it, slamming on the brakes, turning way too hard. The little wheel-spin indicator would flash and correct my indiscretions, and keep the car on course. Even when I was driving down the completely snow-covered I-95, steering with my knees as I flipped through the owners manual, trying to figure out what all the buttons did, the car never got out of control. This was actually going to be fun. What my brother Tom told me about his first experience with winter driving: "It's like sledding. . . . . with heat."

After a few stops at places like "Something House", or Sheetz to get some food, take in large volumes of coffee, and then release large volumes of coffee, I arrived back in Mebane around 5:15 AM Saturday morning.

Like I said, had I stuck it out with the airplane plan, there was a good chance that I wouldn't have gotten home until at least Sunday night, and maybe later. This could've all been a horrible experience, to say the least, but to me it was almost kind of fun, because it was an adventure. . . and hoagies and pretzels were involved. What could be more wonderful?

The Nuptials of Buick

6:10 AM, RDU Airport, Gate A23

I'm traveling to Pennsylvania for a long weekend to attend the wedding of an old Penn State Blue Band Drumline buddy, Buick, AKA Matt Kozsuch. He's marrying Christine Barbush, whom I've never met, this evening in Mechanicsburg, PA, a suburb of Harrisburg. I've been waiting for this for a long time. Buick was one of three friends from the Blue Band who attended my wedding in Georgia way back in 1995, the others being Truck and Jerry. Jerry got married in stealth some years ago, and Truck is getting married in August in Cambridge, Massachusettes. Look for that blog entry in about two months. I'm happy to finally be able to return the favor. I'm going solo, as the other Traveling Roths will be in PA (and/or Vermont) for all of July, so there was no need for them to run up and back just for the weekend. Plus they're at the beach right now anyway, so it's not like they're not having fun, and traveling, too.

I just got a Canon SD450 digital camera, mainly because it's very small and totally portable, and also so that Jennifer and I will both have cameras with us when we're in different places. So far, I totally dig it. It's super convenient to just whip it out and fire off a couple of shots, plus it fits in my pocket. I still love my Minolta Dimage 7Hi, but that's significantly bigger, and less convenient. All the pictures in this blog post will have been taken by the Canon.




The flight usually takes about an hour, and the weather looks perfect. Mom and/or Dad will be picking me up at PHL, and I'm debating if it's too early in the morning to stop by South Philly for a Cheese Steak. I'm not sure I'll get back to the city on this trip, so this may be my only shot at it. We'll see. The plane appears to have been here all night. I don't know the tail number, nor what type of aircraft it is, but I'll enter that later, because that's the kind of geeky thing I do. I may even record the flight time, as well as the maximum cabin altitude (simulated altitude of the aircraft cabin based on the interior air pressure).

I need to wrap their gift (an Oxo Salad Spinner) that I shipped up to the folks' house a few days ago, write in their card, and iron out my dress-up clothes that are currently rolled up in the backpack on the seat next to me.
Other than that, I don't have an agenda for the day.

The airplane was a 737-300. We took off at 7:16, reached a cabin altitude of 4900', flew for 1 hour 3 minutes, and landed at 8:20. It was unremarkable, and that's just fine.

Mom and Dad picked me up, and we drove back to their house. 8:30 AM was not the right time for a cheese steak, although Pat's King of Steaks is open 24 hours, so I know they're always ready when I am.

The folks told me about a Whole Foods-type market over in Kimberton, plus they'd read about a new Gelateria over there, so we decided to check them both out.

On the way we stopped at Mom and Dad's graves.This was, perhaps, a little creepy. Mom and Dad bought their headstone a few months ago, and although it's not finished nor installed, the cement peer block (or whatever it's called) that will sit under the stone is in. It had "ROTH" scratched into it while it was still wet.

Continuing on to Kimberton. The market was pretty cool, and had a lot of the same kind of crunchy granola stuff that you'd see at a Whole Foods/Wellspring/Fresh Market/Weaver Street Market kind of place. Plenty of organic this and hemp that and witch doctor herbs and supplements. We did get some good looking produce though.

The Gelateria was just up the street, so we walked. The guy who owns it, Fabrizzio, was born in Italy, but grew up here in the states. He's probably roughly my age or a little younger, and his store was just like what you'd find in Italy. On the patio side, there was a wide sliding window that you could open and look in on all the flavors. He had about 16 gelato flavors, as well as sorbetto, granitas, and Italian pastries. He had a fast hand with the samples, and it was damn hard to choose. He had many of my favorites, like pistachio, nocciola (hazlenut) limoncello, stracciatella, etc. If you've never been to Italy, here's how you plan your budget: 25% on lodging, 25% on food, 25% on transportation, and 25% on gelato. This gelato was right on the mark. I went with a large, splitting it between pistachio and stracciatella.
He asked if I'd like a little fresh crema on top, and I responded with a hearty per favore. Dad and Mom got pretty into it too.
I hope Fabrizzio can make a go of it. The location isn't great, but the product and customer service are top notch. I'm looking forward to bringing the other Traveling Roths back here on our next trip up.

Later in the day, I made the drive out to the Harrisburg West exit of the sorry Pennsylvania Turnpike, and found St. Joe's Catholic Church in Mechanicsburg without any difficulty. As soon as I got out of the car, I started recognizing people whose names I never knew, and whose nicknames I couldn't remember.

Buick was in a fraternity back in our college days, and even though I was not, the frat house was a couple blocks up the street from my house, and a lot of the guys in it were Blue Band Drumline guys, so I knew pretty much everyone there, and got to hang out there a lot. Everyone had a nickname, and usually, that was the only name I ever knew them by.

One of the Groomsmen was Gopher, a roomate of Buick's and an awesome bass player. Another was Jabba, I guy who used to give me excellent haircuts for $5 plus a beer or two tip. Yet another was Murtaugh, a guy who was just entering shool as I was leaving. And here I was anxious that I wouldn't know anyone.

The wedding was pretty straightforward. It was in a Catholic church, or cathedral or whatever you call it, and it moved along quite nicely, as there was no communion. I don't believe Buick is Catholic, so that may have played a factor.

The reception was at a country club in Camp Hill, mabye 15 minutes away. This place was really nice. I signed the guestbook and was photographed, and headed in to the big room. There were a couple of open bars, complete with wine, good beer, and all the mixed drinks you could imagine. Also ready to go were the appetizer tables. There were cheese trays, complete with fresh figs, dried fruit and cool cheeses, bruschetta, sushi "wraps", and tuna salad lettuce boats. I filled a plate and found a seat at a nearby table, when my friend Zippy (Matt Homsher) came over and sat down. Zippy was also in the drumline. He's now an attorney and has three kids. I haven't seen him in probably a dozen years or so, but we picked up where we left off like no time had passed. It was cool. Joining us at the table were a bunch of other frat guys, like Little John, Gunner, Slider, Sleepy, Goombah. They looked amazingly like their early 1990's selves, and we had a great time.

Dinner was excellent. Pasta, prime rib, fruit salad (yummy yummy) and more, and plenty of desserts. There was dancing and toasting and champagne, and cake cutting. The works. Finally Buick and Christine got around to us, and I finally got to meet her. No surprise here, but she seemed really cool. They were having a great time, and were very appreciative of our presence. They're headed to Spain for 10 days for their honeymoon.

I left there a little before midnight, and thanks to Pennsylvania's inability to mark roads, spent half an hour finding my way back to the sorry Pennsylvania Turnpike. Arriving back at the folks' close to 2 am. What a long day, and a great night.



The Rest of the Weekend
Saturday we had lunch with Grandmother Roth at her retirement community. My brothers and I have been busting on the food there for many years, and with good cause. I'm sure the food is perfectly safe, and very adequate for the nice old people that live there. Here's my lunch; Turkey Divan.It was a slice of lunchmeat turkey wrapped around a chunk of gray-greenish brocooli, topped with cheese, and baked, and baked, and baked, in the oven. Accompanying the Turkey Divan was some cauliflower, cooked in some manner. The iced tea had some very odd side taste that I couldn't put my finger on. Overall, it was food. On the way home we bought some groceries at Clemmons. Dinner was hot dogs on the grill. Later on, Uncle Dave and Aunt Phyllis (Prizer) came over to visit. After that, Mom, Dad, and I watched "At the End of the Spear" or something like that.

Sunday, we attended Coventryville United Methodist Church, where for the first time in their 232 year history, they're going to be installing air conditioning. Believe it or not, some in the church opposed this. The A/C wasn't in yet, so Sunday school and church were pretty uncomfortable, as they have been for many summers since 1774.

Sunday was also Fathers Day (tm). As my gift to Dad, I made some insalata caprese, and cooked some Omaha Steaks with carmelized onions and mushrooms. It all turned out very medium-rare. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful.

Monday I got up at 3:30 am, and we all left for the airport at 4:00, arriving a little after 5:00. US Airways flight 3939 was scheduled to leave from Gate F25 at 6:32. It was oversold, so I had the opportunity to "volunteer" to get bumped. I didn't jump at the chance since I had to be at work that day. The plane, a Canadair CL-65 was small and packed. I was in the last row. We pushed back from the gate late, since we had to wait on a fuel truck. After taxiing from the gate, we parked and sat their with the engines running at half-throttle for about 20 minutes becuase the plane had been loaded with too much fuel, and was therefore too heavy to land (yes, a plane has differing take-off and landing weight restrictions). So we had to burn off the extra weight.

We took off about an hour late, at 7:26, flying for 52 minutes at a cabin altitude of 3950 feet and landing at 8:18. The rest of the normal day was otherwise uneventful, but I can't remember having been this tired in a long, long time. Maybe travel takes a lot out of you.