Homeward bound...
Sep. 24th, 2000 06:22 amIt's a quarter to six in the morning as I write this. Boarding for my flight isn't for another hour. The airport is dead, although you can see individual workers scuttling about inside their stores, getting ready for the day. I really would like a cup of coffee.
The banquet last night was nice, but not memorable. I sat at the same table with Nora Favorov, whose status as the Administrator of the Slavic Language Division had been confirmed earlier in the day at the ATA board meeting, and with Jost Z., whom I had met at the first evening's reception (the Déjà Vu advocate). The dinner was okay - typical hotel food complete with a shapeless chicken entree - and it was served in a thoroughly professional manner.
The "presentation" was elegant and, I'm sure, the food was nutritious, but I was a bit surprised by the the baby carrots, which were served with the green part still attached, and by the bottom end of a yellow squash served so as to accentuate the nipple-like structure at the end of the fruit. Ah, well, I suppose I'm a country bumpkin as far as the chef is concerned.
The training of the waitstaff was evident in their skilled service. All of the plates were served properly and gracefully with the ladies served before the gentlemen. Watching the waitstaff exit the kitchen (under a rotating red light) was an impressive sight. Everyone moved with military precision; I doubt that a trained SEAL team could move better.
Our waitress, however, did not seem happy in her work. By her expression, it was clear she was there last night under duress, or some similar circumstance. The expression on her face - noticed by several of us - was austere to say the least. I'm sure each of us thought she'd go postal on someone at the table, so requests were relayed to her in a very polite tone of voice.
Unlike other closing banquets I've attended, here, the dance floor was situated in a neighboring hall. I stopped by for a few minutes, to listen to the hired talent - a swing band - and watch some of the action. Since I was looking at a really early wake-up, I retired early.
So here I am. The airport version of CNN just came on, and Al Gore is screaming bloody murder about "Big Oil" and telling folks how he'll protect 'em. Yeah, right. What's interesting, though, is that though Bush and Cheney clearly have oil company ties - all the major networks have been on the ball in this department - so does Gore. I tend to doubt, however, that any major news organization is going to go to any particular trouble to report this, seeing how they clearly favor Gore.
Gore's old man, if I recall, was on the board of Occidental Petroleum after he retired from the Senate, and Gore himself has a huge interest in the company via inheritance. Occidental, by the way, has pissed off a lot of people in Columbia, if memory serves, where its operations threaten the local ecology and at least one indigenous tribe. So much for a "Mr. Environment" who is not beholden to Big Oil.
The Republicans and Democrats make me sick. Permit me a short digression:
Throw the bums out! Vote Libertarian!
There. I feel better.
Anyway, the ticket agents are here to do their thing. While I was able to check in electronically downstairs, I still have to show the agent here a photo ID. And judging from all the folks here, it's going to be a pretty crowded flight. Yikes.
Cheers...
The banquet last night was nice, but not memorable. I sat at the same table with Nora Favorov, whose status as the Administrator of the Slavic Language Division had been confirmed earlier in the day at the ATA board meeting, and with Jost Z., whom I had met at the first evening's reception (the Déjà Vu advocate). The dinner was okay - typical hotel food complete with a shapeless chicken entree - and it was served in a thoroughly professional manner.
The "presentation" was elegant and, I'm sure, the food was nutritious, but I was a bit surprised by the the baby carrots, which were served with the green part still attached, and by the bottom end of a yellow squash served so as to accentuate the nipple-like structure at the end of the fruit. Ah, well, I suppose I'm a country bumpkin as far as the chef is concerned.
The training of the waitstaff was evident in their skilled service. All of the plates were served properly and gracefully with the ladies served before the gentlemen. Watching the waitstaff exit the kitchen (under a rotating red light) was an impressive sight. Everyone moved with military precision; I doubt that a trained SEAL team could move better.
Our waitress, however, did not seem happy in her work. By her expression, it was clear she was there last night under duress, or some similar circumstance. The expression on her face - noticed by several of us - was austere to say the least. I'm sure each of us thought she'd go postal on someone at the table, so requests were relayed to her in a very polite tone of voice.
Unlike other closing banquets I've attended, here, the dance floor was situated in a neighboring hall. I stopped by for a few minutes, to listen to the hired talent - a swing band - and watch some of the action. Since I was looking at a really early wake-up, I retired early.
So here I am. The airport version of CNN just came on, and Al Gore is screaming bloody murder about "Big Oil" and telling folks how he'll protect 'em. Yeah, right. What's interesting, though, is that though Bush and Cheney clearly have oil company ties - all the major networks have been on the ball in this department - so does Gore. I tend to doubt, however, that any major news organization is going to go to any particular trouble to report this, seeing how they clearly favor Gore.
Gore's old man, if I recall, was on the board of Occidental Petroleum after he retired from the Senate, and Gore himself has a huge interest in the company via inheritance. Occidental, by the way, has pissed off a lot of people in Columbia, if memory serves, where its operations threaten the local ecology and at least one indigenous tribe. So much for a "Mr. Environment" who is not beholden to Big Oil.
The Republicans and Democrats make me sick. Permit me a short digression:
Throw the bums out! Vote Libertarian!
There. I feel better.
Anyway, the ticket agents are here to do their thing. While I was able to check in electronically downstairs, I still have to show the agent here a photo ID. And judging from all the folks here, it's going to be a pretty crowded flight. Yikes.
Cheers...