How NOT to travel

It's been four months since I've posted, and there are a lot of stories to tell and pictures of press boxes to post, but I've got to get this one down right now. After a horrendous travel day with the team that saw us end up in Columbus, Ohio one day before the team was scheduled to be here and two days before I was, the airline we were forced to switch to was not able to get our bags on the flight.

When they arrived in the morning and I sleepwalked downstairs to pick mine up, I had this lovely surprise:


Yes, that's my bag. Pretty much dead. I mean, I guess it's better than never getting your stuff at all - it's all there, just a little wet and, in the case of my sneakers, scuffed up. But it's still pretty depressing.

The big one in LA

Kind of big trip to LA last week. My brother's wedding! A long weekend - Thursday through Monday for me - that involved a lot of family events, a lot of Chinese food, and a LOT of driving. It was definitely a weekend I won't forget, and in the end my big brother got hitched, so it was definitely mission accomplished.

I don't suppose I'm your typical best man. I didn't organize a crazy bachelor party, and I couldn't even fulfill the supposed main function of the best man in a Chinese wedding - drinking when the groom can't drink anymore. But I had fun trying in vain to keep my brother loose and doing my best to represent the family well at all times. As part of the tea ceremony on Saturday, that meant fake bartering for my brother's wife, doing push-ups, allowing my brother to draw a handlebar mustache on my face while blindfolded, and more.

Being part of a Chinese wedding was quite a world to enter - and one my brother knows very well by now. He even speaks very passable Mandarin! Hearing him yell his love for his bride in both English and Mandarin on the steps of her house was one of the weekend's highlights for me.

I'm not going to do play-by-play on the weekend, because there's too much to tell. I had a great time seeing my family and meeting hers at the rehearsal dinner Friday and throughout the LONG day's festivities on Saturday.

There were also one or two hairy moments. For example, I left the notes for my speech, wonderfully transcribed by RBG, up in the suite and couldn't get back in to get them. The rings got dropped when they were transferred from my pocket to my brother's hands. The stupid flower on my jacket wouldn't stay put. A car alarm went off during the walk down the aisle.

But in the end, it was awesome. The readings during the ceremony - L'Engle and Hemingway - spoke to me, my brother and his wife looked great and looked in love, and we had a lot of fun.

The reception was a little bizarre at times. The 10+ Chinese banquet courses were crazy, and I'll admit I didn't finish them all - I already had two vegeterian Chinese meals under my belt by that point. There was many a speech and some interesting emcee hijinks. My speech came up far earlier in the program than I was prepared for, but at least I know I was going after my sister and the maid of honor, so I had a bit of time to gather myself.

I don't love public speaking, but I really wanted to do a good job on this speech. I literally had been building the framework in my mind for two years or so, and of course it was my chance to express some feeling for (and tease!) my brother. There were some changes during the week and even some changes during the proceedings - the previous speakers stole some of my thunder! But in the end, I was able to make eye contact with multiple parts of the room, pause dramatically here and there, and even elicit a few laughs. Hugging my brother afterward was a special moment I don't think either of us will forget.

So I think my brother's life will go back to normal now, and I'm glad we were all there for the occasion. It definitely served to reinforce that LA is not my type of city. The driving and the traffic are awful! Which is a bit ironic, of course, since I'm sure some of those same criticisms are leveled at Houston. I mean the main airport, downtown, the Med Center, the Galleria, NASA, even the Blue Bell factory if you really want to extend the area ... spread out all over the place! But somehow, and of course this could be because I know Houston by now, it all seems much more manageable than LA. I really struggle to keep my bearings in that place.

At any rate, I'm so, so glad I got to go and be there for my brother and my family. I'm feeling a major letdown this week - no big family meals, no ceremonies to attend, no amusing assertions or questions from my niece. But that's what makes these things so special, and that's why I'm glad I was there to experience it with people that are close to me.

A little extra time in the Windy City

So our trip to Chicago turned into a bit of travel lore. Friday training was very eventful – we had a dog at pregame training for the second straight week, I was able to avoid asking a player’s father to leave, and all eventually went well.

There was some serious hilarity in the airport as we waited for our flight when a young man who looked striking similar to one of our players walked up next to the group. Everybody kind of collapsed in laughter without the guy really knowing a lot about it. Fortunately, our player took it on himself to go up to the guy and pose for a picture, so we have proof of the uncanny resemblance.

All went well with the flight itself until we neared Chicago, and then we got delayed a bit due to the weather, eventually arriving late but not super late. Our bags, on the other hand, were fairly well delayed, and one or two event went missing. Walking out into the cool Chicago air was certainly a shock, but sitting on the bus waiting for the bag and arriving at the hotel maybe two hours late upset plans for more than a few people. Fortunately, I had none, and I wound up watching the second half of the nationally televised Friday night game in the hotel lounge with several of our coaches.

Saturday went relatively smoothly. I enjoyed breakfast in a deli a few blocks from the hotel, got my work done at the team walk, and eventually went to the stadium on the early bus with our reserves and four high school players from our youth system – a very big day for them. Chicago is where I had one of my biggest broadcasting setup issues. Two years ago, I couldn’t get on the air via conventional methods and therefore missed kickoff and the only goal of the game, recovering to call the remainder of the game via cell phone. Not cool. So I felt a little accomplished when I managed to set up properly in about 15 minutes, three hours before kickoff.

The game itself was good enough – a tie in a game we could have won – and I felt the broadcast had its moments, although I don’t feel I was at my sharpest. A good night with some laughs to be sure, but it was still probably 2 a.m. before I went to bed – game night takes a lot of work!

So waking up at 7:30 for an 8:30 bus was not very easy the next morning, but it was just the beginning of a long travel day. To recap:

7 – team breakfast
7:30 – Jon wakes up
8:30 – team bus departs
9 – team bus arrives, warm-ups begin
10 – reserve game starts, I provide updates via Twitter from fieldside table
11:30 – glare from the sun makes seeing my computer screen almost impossible
11:45 – reserve game ends in a loss
12:30 – team bus leaves for airport; I send out match report from computer on bus, then settle in
1 – team bus arrives airport but check-in process is very long
1:30 – security check, grab lunch at bagel place in airport
2:20 – board plane for 2:55 flight
2:45 – drift off to sleep
3:10 – informed of mechanical problem being worked on
3:11 – drift back to sleep
3:45 – informed mechanical problem appeared fixed but broke again
4:15 – finally told to de-plane
4:17 – strap on my radio bag finally snaps, dropping my stuff to the floor in the middle of the terminal
4:20 – the waiting begins … time-killing techniques of the players involve Su Doku, reading, playing games on phone, using my internet card to check facebook, stretching out to sleep, talking on the phone, etc. etc. We are a motley crew spread out across maybe five gates at one end of the terminal. At one point, I am seated next to four players each from a different country, each with a particular accent on the English language, each with a very different outlook on life. One is listening to music, one doing Su Doku, one reading a book, and one reading a magazine. Truly a diverse team. We discuss, among other things, how Easter is celebrated and how many states end in ‘a.’ There is no telling what other conversations are going on around the terminal as we all think about what we would be doing back in Houston.
6:45 – we are finally informed we have tickets on an 8:15 flight, giving us about an hour to get dinner. Amazing job by our team admin to book all players, reserves, staff, high school kids on same flight.
7:40 – prior to boarding, I give up my exit-row seat to a 6-foot-4 player, whose seat is in row 36
7:45 – find out row 36 includes a player with pregnant wife and infant son
8:40 – roughly the time of our departure. Too cheap to buy TV, as always, I’m using Su Doku and crossword puzzle from in-flight magazine to pass the time.
9:40 – I switch over to some combination of The Economist and sleeping. Thankfully, the cute little tyke next to me has gone to sleep with a minimum of fuss. His parents are very relieved.
10:55 – We finally land in Houston. I’m actually looking forward to the heat/humidity
11:15 – I get to baggage claim and my bag is already there. A miracle!
11:25 – I get to my car quickly. What in the world is going on?
11:50 – I get home before midnight! Amazing! Quite an end to a ridiculous travel day that began some 16-plus hours before. Hey, it could have been a lot worse.

College Station return trip from hell

I'm going to hold off on extended posts for a mini-trip to College Station and our trip to New Jersey, I think. The day trip for a site visit in College Station was pretty funny - good group of people and some serious lunch at Rudy's BBQ (not my first visit to the College Station location, I'll have you now) which can be seen at right.

In New Jersey, I had a great dinner with my parents, saw my grandmother, supported a friend at a family funeral, pulled out a 1-1 tie on the road, and got about four hours of sleep before leaving first thing Sunday morning. I heart Jersey, but that about sums it up. Oh, I had an awesome view of NYC again and had a nice early-Saturday-morning NJ Transit ride from Hoboken-Newark-Morristown.

Definitely worth an extended post is the return trip from College Station on Wednesday after our USOC game at Texas A&M. Not the best time I've ever had.

After an extra time loss and all the usual post-game site maintenance, I was set to ride back with Farnold (with a couple of spare pizzas in hand, mind you) to make sure he stayed awake on the drive.

As we pulled out of the parking lot, Farnold's tire pressure light came on, a problem with which he seemed familiar, so we pulled into a gas station to take care of it. Naturally, we picked a gas station with no obvious air pump, but we stopped anyway to get gas and see if the attendant knew of a nearby station with an air pump. Farnold made conversation with the attendant and an Aggie, the latter of whom ended up giving us 75 cents for air, even though we had it in the car. Nice guy.

Anyway, we drove down two or three blocks to a different station and pulled in, but there was a truck at the air pump. So we sat, and Farnold spilled a can of Red Bull in his cup holders and sopped it up with napkins. All the while, this guy remained crouched behind the truck by the front wheel, inflating away. A couple of times he got up, took a few steps backward in his T-shirt, Aggie basketball shorts, and flip-flops, and eyed the tires critically as if to gauge his progress. It took forever.

So he finally finished, and we made fun of him for wearing basketball shorts with no pockets while driving around, and we waited for him to leave. Before he did, a sedan turned in and drove between us as if to exit the station. Then the truck drove off right through our route, and before Farnold could accelerate, the sedan had U-turned into the spot at the air pump. We were both so stunned we didn't even know how to react. We kind of looked at each other with a "Did that just happen?" expression. I'm pretty sure it wasn't intentional, but it was just so bizarre that we had been so frustrated to wait on this guy but ended up getting beaten to the spot.

Instead of going all Kathy Bates in Fried Green Tomatoes on the car, we drove off and found another station, where Farnold put on a serious display of re-inflating tires in short order. What are you gonna do? Things seemed to go OK from there. We drove off down Highway 6, making up one-liners for our night (Forever Aggie, queue-cutter girls), snacking on cold pizza. Farnold even got permission to come in late the next day!

Then, just as we approached Navasota, the 'check engine' light flickered on Farnold's dashboard. So we pulled over, Farnold riffled through the manual a bit, and then he tried to restart the car to see if t he light would go away. No dice, no acceleration, and pretty soon a fading battery. This is where it became not cool.

BOTH of Farnold's phones were all but dead, so I called AAA, which I have, and they said they would send a tow to arrive in in the next hour. As we sat there, waiting for the tow truck to arrive, we (a) tried to explain our position to the AAA operator and tow truck driver on multiple occasions, (b) watched each car on the highway to assess whether it was a tow truck, (c) reacted to new indicator lights on the dashboard, (d) watched our lights - overhead, side-view mirror, hazards, brakelights, headlights, and dashboard - gradually dim and expire, (e) debated how much to tip a tow truck driver for a free 100-mile tow, and (f) shared some gallows humor. Good times. Finally, just as we felt like we had seen three tow trucks go by, and surely one must be ours, the headlights went out and we were all but invisible.

Fortunately, that is exactly when the tow truck driver arrived, and we figured it would be relatively simple from there. It was, mostly, but first the mechanic and Farnold had to figure out how to tow the car, which was no simple task and involved getting a tow-hook out of the trunk, which was virtually inaccessible because the trunk wouldn't open (no power, remember) and internal access was limited due to all the crap the car was carrying. We had been coming from an event, after all.

Eventually we got the tow-hook and let the driver do his thing before settling in for the long haul. I dozed in and out a little bit while Farnold made some conversation. Even after we got home and pushed the car into a parking spot at our apartment complex, Farnold still had to run me - in another car, of course - back to our work parking lot so I could drive home. 2:45 a.m. Awesome.

At any rate, frustrating and tiring as it was, it could have been worse, and I'm only a little worse for wear today.

First regular season road trip, PLUS Jon cooks ...

Since I last wrote, I've been to Costa Rica with RBG and Corpus Christi, Orlando, Ft. Lauderdale, and Atlanta for work. They all had their own bits of drama, but since the stats don't count until the regular season, I'm going to start my 2011 blogging with our first trip of the regular season to Seattle this week.

Let's start with the flight. I don't personally partake in Twitter, but I use it so much for work that I've started thinking in Twitter phrases from time to time. Not a fun realization and not something I'm especially proud of, BUT it's great for a little snarky humor. This example may or may not have anything to do with my situation on Thursday afternoon, but here's what an account called NotYardley Tweeted:

Middle seat, no DirecTv, no inseat power on @Continental 737 to SEA. #fml #icomplainalot

Once in Seattle, I put on the two different jackets I had brought with me and tried to adjust. The HIGH in Seattle was supposed to be about 60 degrees. The LOW in Houston that day was 64, I think. 'Nough said. It was more refreshing than bothersome, though. Did make me appreciate Houston.

We got to the hotel only about an hour before I was supposed to meet Berg and Ferg for dessert, so I hustled to the Cheesecake Factory to squeeze in dinner beforehand. Not surprisingly, about half the team was there in various groups, and I ended up sitting at the bar with two of our midfielders watching basketball. Needless to say, when my friends arrived, I took a bit of ribbing about ditching the guys.

As always, it was great to see the happy couple (coming up on their six-year anniversary - how time flies!) and we caught up on each other's lives and talked plenty of about college people we know and what they're up to. Out of necessity, this was a bit shorter than some of our other visits, but we got caught up.

On Friday, I woke up earlier than I wanted - love that Pacific Time Zone - and did some early morning work before getting up and going across the street for a bagel. Who did I run into but our head coach, so I sat with him and half-read the newspaper while he half-worked on the crossword puzzle, the other half of our attention being devoted to non-soccer conversation.

The team walk was a busy one, because I had set up about five different interviews and several people from the television crew were on hand, so we spent most of the time helping other people talk to our players. That left me without a pregame interview - mostly because I put off asking until it was too late - which put me in a bit of a funk for the rest of the day.

As usual, I went over early to the stadium, from which it is always a joy to broadcast. The ISDN line is always perfectly set up and easy to use, the vantage point is terrific, and the crowd noise is easy to pick up. Even my flaky machine was 2-for-2 in booting up to the correct menu. Amazing!

The game itself was tense and dramatic, since we were outshot 26-6, but I mostly kept it together and didn't openly campaign for calls from the refs or anything. I did call it "ridiculous" when an additional 45 seconds were added to the first half so Seattle could counter-attack. In the end, the 1-1 tie was bittersweet for us, but ... if you had offered it to me beforehand I would have accepted in a heartbeat.

Back at the hotel, I rushed to get basic info on the website - JK was watching NCAA bball so I was on my own for the night - then rushed to scarf down dinner before returning to work until the wee hours of the morning in Seattle, which meant it was really late in Houston. Good coverage, though, in my opinion, so well worth it.

Saturday was a travel day, leaving the hotel at 9 a.m. and not getting back to my house until 6:15 p.m. In between, I discussed the game with a lot of staff/players, convinced a Quizno's employee to serve me breakfast five minutes past the appointed time, traded a first class seat for a middle seat (albeit in an exit row), and listened to almost the entire broadcast.

All in all, not a bad trip.

Now, about that cooking ... I felt like trying something different today, so I searched through the cookbook my parents got me several years back. Everything was so hard! It all seemed to take a lot of ingredients (many of which I did not have) or a lot of prep time or both. I finally settled on a farmer's casserole, got the necessary ingredients on an afternoon shopping trip, and started cooking after the last basketball game ended.

It actually went OK. Figuring out how to get the frozen hash browns out of one large clump was actually one of the harder parts. I cried some tears while chopping onions, couldn't find a 1/8-teaspoon measuring spoon, and fudged a few ingredients, but that's just how I roll. I know my reputation precedes me, but it all happened and seemed to be edible.

Somebody (well, actually, many people) once made fun of me because the vast majority of my food fell into one beige-ish color range (pasta, cheerios, eggs, etc.). This definitely fit that bill, but with a little salt it was tasty enough and did the trick. Hopefully there will be a few more recipe adventures to come.

My ridiculous Northeast blizzard travel saga (honestly, it could have been worse)

So there I was, making small talk with guests and dealing with classic post-holiday letdown on the night of December 25, when I got a call from RBG ... "I'm watching The Weather Channel, and they're predicting 10-15 inches of snow for the Northeast tomorrow."

Um, crap.

So that turned into a fun one. With weather prognosticators saying the storm would be focused on Sunday and my flight set for Monday afternoon, I figured I would be able to make it, even if I got pushed back to a later flight. When the Sunday reports said EWR would open Monday morning, I thought I and my 1350 flight were good to go.

Wrong.

When I woke up on Monday, I eventually got around to finding out that the airport was not opening until 1500, and my flight had been canceled. Enter premium status payoff. I called the number on the back of my OnePass card and got placed on a later flight. Terrific! Huge relief. All good.

False.

Blissfully killing time by reading old sports books for teenagers, I checked for my new flight and found that it, too, had been canceled. Seems those 40-mph winds (which took down a major limb in our yard a few inches from the house) aren't so good for take-off or landing. My brother, meanwhile, had his own cross-country flight (on a different airline) canceled and spent most of the day trying to talk to a real person.

So with both flights canceled, multiple agents kindly informed me that everything from Newark, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington to Houston, Dallas, San Antonio, or Austin (and yes I made each one try each different combination) was booked solid for the next few days. My next chance to get out would be December 30. True story.

Since RBG and I were meeting up in Houston to drive her car to MD in the few short days before embarking on a fifth-anniversary trip, this was unacceptable.

After talking to about five agents, we determined the best solution would be for me to take a train to Washington on Wednesday, fly to Houston, and fly to New Orleans, meeting RBG there after she took the first leg of the trip solo. Needless to say, this was not great. It put a crimp in time spent together, prevented me from paying my rent, and forced RBG to pack for me for a three-week trip involving cold weather, warm weather, work, and somewhat formal attire. Not fair.

However, I kept at it and, late in the afternoon, managed to find a direct DCA-IAH flight on Tuesday night, allowing me to get in late Tuesday to pay my rent and pack my own bags before we left early Wednesday. However, I got an incompetent agent (a rarity for me on this day) on the phone who said she could book the flight but not re-issue the ticket. Even though all the other reps had no problem re-issuing tickets. Seriously? After this rep left me on hold for 15 minutes trying to track down a supervisor to OK the re-issue, I simply hung up and called back.

This time, my new rep understood exactly what I wanted (and trust me, it's not easy to explain that you have to be in Houston on Tuesday OR New Orleans on Wednesday, but the reverse is not an option) and hooked me up. E-ticket confirmed and everything. Then I got online and fairly easily switched my train ticket for no fee at all. Can't tell you how pumped I was to work out that travel deal. I may have flexed a bicep in celebration. May have.

Meanwhile, it was COLD in N.J. thanks to a significant windchill. Did not stop me and the family from going out for a great Indian dinner Monday night. Good way to close the family portion of the holiday. And as it turned out, my brother also had a travel victory, finding a Tuesday morning flight back to LA.

So on Tuesday I reached the train station in New Jersey and went to the platform, only to realize the schedule boards were still showing information from before the blizzard. Apparently the computer or cable or something was down. With no informative announcements forthcoming from the PA system, I checked my phone and found the train was 40 minutes late. Thankfully it was a much warmer day, so I waited in the sun and enjoyed the rather trippy after-effect of trains busting through snow on the middle track, which led to a snow-globe shower of small particles after it had gone through. The train wound up being about an hour late, but I had left plenty of time for that.

The train ride to D.C. was relatively uneventful, and I gave myself a walking tour of Union Station before grabbing food and taking the Metro to the airport. I managed to ruin my Metro card by putting it in a pocket with my phone, but I got through anyway. Arrived about three hours before my flight and had hopes of catching an earlier plane. The security line almost did me in. The elite line was infinitely slower than the adjacent normal line, which turned out to be because the normal line was splitting into two at the end, one competing with the elite line. In this case, status did not pay.

When I got to the gate, however, status did pay, as I jumped all the way to No. 2 on a 28-person standby list for the 1735 flight to Houston. The airline was offering a $300 travel reward for people volunteering to stay later, but the whole thing made me feel really, really guilty at just showing up and vaulting into that position over people who had been waiting all day. Still, with that offer out there, I thought I might have a chance,

Wrong again.

Didn't get the earlier flight, but I really couldn't complain. The people around me in the terminal were talking about how they had spent nights in LaGuardia on a luggage cart and just wanted to get home in any way possible, etc. Truly some rough stories out there.

Mine, therefore, is not that rough, especially the ending. On the late flight, jammed into what felt like a particularly cramped window seat, with the doors about to close, a flight attendant handed me my new ticket in first class. Awesome call. Again I felt a little bad, because the people around me were clearly a little miffed, but not too bad as I slid into my roomier seat with free TV, extra drinks, and even some semi-real food.

I eventually made it back at about 2300 on Tuesday night, less than 30 hours after I was supposed to get back. All things considered, not bad at all.

Now to see what the road trip brings ...

Of wind, rain, and power outages in the Northeast

OK, continuing the catching-up process, we take a look at Philadelphia and New Jersey in late September/early October ...

I went to Philly early (Wednesday before a Saturday game) to see RBG and wound up spending most of the time fighting the elements. Nasty wind and rain, all at a colder temperature than I had felt in Houston since February.

I would literally walk down the street to meet RBG after her classes and hold the umbrella directly in front of me, rather than over my head, because it was more important to block the on-rushing wind than the not-as-violent rain. Also, any time I tried to hold the umbrella over my head, the wind would rush in and push it inside out, making me look like an idiot as I tried my best to spin around and invert the umbrella while the wind was on my side. Somehow even the walk back - going the opposite direction, mind you - seemed to mess with the umbrella.

On another night, with RBG at an official dinner, I decided to get pizza from a takeout place we really like. BBQ chicken pizza. Mmm. There was a light rain falling as I left, but for whatever reason, I decided not to call ahead or take an umbrella. I don't mind a little rain every now and then, and as I already documented, the umbrella was more of a pain than a help. Plus sometimes I just like to make things harder for myself.

So I got maybe two blocks into a trip of roughly eight blocks, and the heavens opened up. Serious rain. It was still windy, however, so I was able to find several blocks where I could walk very close to the buildings and be completely dry because they would block the rain. That could not protect me forever.

I made it to the pizza place, wrung out my shirt, and placed my order. There seemed to be a few let-ups in the rain while they were cooking the pizza, but by the time the food was ready, it was back to pouring. Probably even more than on the outbound journey. I solicited a garbage bag to cover the pizza box and set off.

Most buildings provided no cover on the return trip, and I got absolutely drenched. I was really glad RBG wasn't home to see me when I arrived; I think I squished through the doorway. Fortunately, I had time to run all my clothes through the dryer before she got back. And there's nothing like pizza and warm, dry clothes to overcome a little hypothermia.

On Friday night, I left RBG's to meet up with the team at the hotel. There had been some confusion over who was coming on the trip, and I wound up rooming with my boss for the first time ever. Oh well.

The next day was our first ever trip to the Philly stadium, which is outside of town on the Delaware River in a not-great neighborhood, I had heard. I got there early, set up to broadcast, and got an informal tour of the stadium from a Philly PR counterpart. I really enjoyed it and, overall, thought it was a great stadium. The view of the bridge and river is pretty stunning. There are some kinks - fans have access to locker room entry and exit points, and the press box windows have to be open for one to see the game - but it's pretty cool.

I left tickets for my dad and brother and broadcast the game. The most exciting part might have been pregame, when our starting goalkeeper (concussed from the previous game) jogged off the field, leaving our unproven 22-year-old as his only available replacement. However, despite the scare, the starter returned during warmups and played the whole match. We tied 1-1, not a bad result all things considered. Afterward, I got together with my father and brother for a few photos - the Philly guy kindly included the 'Union' stenciled out on the far-side seats.

My brother and father picked me up at the hotel, and then we picked up RBG (after some impromptu turns due to vague Philly instructions), and headed back to Jersey. On the way, our thrilling conversation about vegan food was interrupted by a call from my mom, informing us that the power was out at our house. Awesome! Sure enough, it was out when we got home. Our house and maybe two others in the whole town. Luckily there were enough flashlights to navigate around the house, so after going out for a late dinner, we managed to get to bed.

Sunday was my mother's 60th birthday party, an extravaganza of family (wished we could have had more time) and friends (good to see) and Mom's friends (classic small-talk that has a tendency to drag). We had to leave a bit early to make my flight and RBG's train, but I was glad we made it. Family is hard to beat.

So that's Philly ... only one more trip to cover and we'll be all caught up in time for the holidays.