Mr. Lucky has been gone for 9 days now. He won�t be back for another 10.
Can I hear a Hallelujah!!! Amen.
He�s on the Board of Directors of a Virginia University who had been sharing their on-line courses with a school in Turkish Cyprus. When the government �nationalized� the universities of Turkish Cyprus, the school prevented it by becoming a branch of the American university, necessitating a seven-day expense paid trip to Cyprus for all the Board members and their wives. Then he would go on to India by himself for ten days to visit our office there.
Why am I still at home? Well, someone had to look after the bird, the house, the clients and the business while he was gone. Ok � and I didn�t want to be thousands of miles away while my daughter is 8 months pregnant. Ok, OK already. The peace and quiet was a welcome respite.
As it turned out, it was fortuitous in its own right, as I�ve moved ahead with all the tests and biopsies and discussed options with Gabriel. But enough about that.
This is about Mr. Lucky, the �Smartest Man in the World� traveling by himself.
When traveling in the States he can usually follow the carefully printed instructions from his secretary to find the airport, catch the right plane (most of the time), get a car rented, and get to his hotel. Which is asking a lot. Of course, he often misses his plane or connection, or leaves his car keys � which necessitates me crawling out of bed at midnight to go get him. But that�s another story.
I preface the next section to say that this will be the first overseas trip he�s made without someone traveling with him to take care of everything. So, two days before he left (packing his stuff in MY well-taken care of set of �Oh, were these YOUR suitcases?�), I asked him if he had weighed his luggage. And, (having read of the horrors that befall the unwary traveler) did he check the limitations of each airline and airport. Having made the suggestions, and given him dire warning, I left it up to him.
Yesterday morning I was talking to our project manager in Georgia. Apparently Mr. Lucky had called her at 4:00 am from the London airport with:
�What airline do I take to India?�
Mind you, he is carrying his computer with all the information in it. He is carrying not one, not two, but THREE sets, of itineraries. And he calls her at 4:00 am to help him find his plane. And an hour later:
�My carry-on bag is overweight. It�s going to cost a lot. Can you call your brother in London to come get the extra stuff? He could bring it back to me on my way back through.�
In London, like any large city, the distance from wherever you live to the airport can be up to two hours. And this man wants to save himself $50 by asking a complete stranger to come pick up some �stuff�.
I suppose I should be glad he didn�t call me (well, actually, I haven�t heard from him since he left�.not even an email. Can you say �self-absorbed�). So I don�t know that I would have been quite as pleasant as she probably was.
Then again, he pays her salary.
On another, and infinitely more cheerful note, BlueMeany stopped by this week on her way north to Syracuse and it was just delightful to meet yet another D-Lander. That makes eleven so far I think. I�m beginning to think this should be the summer for an East Coast D-Land party. You know, just a get-together of anyone that can come out on a Saturday night. I�ve got lots and lots of space for overnight crashing � and would welcome the diversion. And if you�re not from DC, it�s a great tourist trap.
Anyone game?
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