11-14-2017, 08:41 AM
Okay. I'm beginning to have DM Time Displacement. I'm having a hard time figuring out what day it is despite my religious devotion to my scheduling calendar. The only things of value are what is on the calendar. So, I know today I am talking to Sheila Thompson and Buzz Hurst. But I couldn't really tell you what else is supposed to happen normally for this day.
It could be whiplash from the 2 weeks I spent back east. We were on the run for half of it and the other half we spent sitting around the NYAC. Although I didn't sit much. I went out with the cameras and the drone on several days to find spots Michael might have haunted.
The day HK and I landed on two separate flights, huge thunderstorms battered the east coast threatening all air travel. My flight didn't have a problem from start to finish. The sky cap grabbed my six bags at the curb so I didn't even have to rent a cart to get them into the terminal. Although I kept getting threatening text messages about delayed flights, we only took off about 20 minutes late.
I had booked HK to arrive at Newark about an hour after me. When I landed, I had a flood of text messages from him about mechanical problems with his flight. I ended up waiting about 3 hours for him. I had time to get all my bags to the car rental and then the car rental people were nice enough to let me leave the car their while I waited.
Since I had left the terminal, I was stranded on the opposite side of security from all the restaurants. I dined on a lovely bag of potato chips from a kiosk that didn't take cash.
After getting the rental car, I waited at the curb for HK for an additional twenty minutes while the world's slowest conveyor brought him his bags. Thankfully, they don't hassle you too much waiting at the curb in Newark. I just had to fight with a million cars who also waited for passengers to get away from the curb.
I had a nice dyslexic moment on the way to the hotel. We needed to get to route 287 and of course there was a route 278 along the way that gave me a panic that I had missed our road.
We stayed at the Doubletree by Hilton in Somerset in a spot that would give us equal distances between our New Jersey interviews.
On the first day, we interviewed Paul Levy in the town of Princeton. He had booked us a closet to do the interview at the Princeton library. I did some talking and had us upgraded to a lovely conference room that overlooked the street. We might have done better in the closet because of the noise. At one point, a man with a leaf blower stationed himself on the sidewalk below for fifteen minutes. I'm betting he saw us and decided to help out.
After the interview, we asked Paul Levy where to eat. He said out of town. He mourned the passing of all his favorite restaurants in the town of Princeton. Since, we were a minute away, HK and I strolled the campus for a few minutes. Ah, to be back in college.
On Day 2, we did the double interview. We had Tom Losonczy in the morning and Herb Cohen in the afternoon. Tom lived in a great house on the top of hill overlooking a forest of trees with their leaves changing color. Tom only told us one story off the record. It had to do with Columbian marching powder. Tom also told me I needed to contact Bob Dow.
Since we did our interview fast and had time to kill, we returned to our hotel in between interviews. I emailed Bob Dow to see where he was located and whether he would be up for an interview.
Herb Cohen lived on the bottom of a two level duplex. The kids on the floor above us decided that during the interview would be the perfect time for them to practice their clogging in hobnail boots. Herb also wouldn't shut off his computer so we got a lot of message pings on the sound recording. Herb also assured us he was in contact with Neil Diamond, his High School friend, and that he would forward our message of a request for an interview. Herb's apartment also had a less than pleasing scent that I kept smelling for the rest of the evening.
Bob Dow emailed me back and said he was up for an interview. We went back and forth about the time and where to meet. I eventually realized he was also in New Jersey, south of Princeton. I told him we should just cover over now, Friday, and meet with him. He said okay but not until the afternoon.
Originally, HK and I were to drive in through Redhook in Brooklyn and maybe see some sights on the way to the NYAC. Now, we were going to be an hour further away, pushing us late into rush hour traffic. But it was part of the job.
Seeing how much money Bob Dow has, I probably wouldn't have been as pushy. He's a retired investment manager that bought the house across the street from the school he wanted his daughter to attend. When we sat down, he cracked a bottle of wine from his own vineyard in Bordeaux. That kind of money. Winery in France kind of money.
But he talked to us. And seemed to enjoy killing a bottle of wine with HK while telling stories of Micheal D'Asaro.
So, Friday rush hour traffic in New York. Good times. It was about a 2 and a half hour drive normally from where we started in New Jersey. And the traffic wasn't too horrendous until we got to the Lincoln Turnel. It took us 45 minutes to get through the Lincoln tunnel section. Not knowing the traffic politics, I was also in the wrong lane when I got out of the tunnel for our turn uptown towards the NYAC. Instead, we set in this Lord of the Flies intersection. People kept jockeying for position to eventually get through the lights in front of us. No one paid attention to the rule that you don't enter an intersection unless you can leave the intersection.
The drive up Ninth avenue was equally horrible. Lots of stopping and staring at the flickering billboards.
Fortunately, the New York Athletic Club they had valet parking to take the car away and a bell hop to take our bags up to our rooms. We got to stay at the NYAC courtesy of Soren Thompson, who is president of the Fencing Inter-league at the club.
There is also a dress code for the main area of the club, so I had spent the majority of the day in dress shoes, slacks, and a collared shirt just so I wouldn't be booted out of the club.
More to come.
It could be whiplash from the 2 weeks I spent back east. We were on the run for half of it and the other half we spent sitting around the NYAC. Although I didn't sit much. I went out with the cameras and the drone on several days to find spots Michael might have haunted.
The day HK and I landed on two separate flights, huge thunderstorms battered the east coast threatening all air travel. My flight didn't have a problem from start to finish. The sky cap grabbed my six bags at the curb so I didn't even have to rent a cart to get them into the terminal. Although I kept getting threatening text messages about delayed flights, we only took off about 20 minutes late.
I had booked HK to arrive at Newark about an hour after me. When I landed, I had a flood of text messages from him about mechanical problems with his flight. I ended up waiting about 3 hours for him. I had time to get all my bags to the car rental and then the car rental people were nice enough to let me leave the car their while I waited.
Since I had left the terminal, I was stranded on the opposite side of security from all the restaurants. I dined on a lovely bag of potato chips from a kiosk that didn't take cash.
After getting the rental car, I waited at the curb for HK for an additional twenty minutes while the world's slowest conveyor brought him his bags. Thankfully, they don't hassle you too much waiting at the curb in Newark. I just had to fight with a million cars who also waited for passengers to get away from the curb.
I had a nice dyslexic moment on the way to the hotel. We needed to get to route 287 and of course there was a route 278 along the way that gave me a panic that I had missed our road.
We stayed at the Doubletree by Hilton in Somerset in a spot that would give us equal distances between our New Jersey interviews.
On the first day, we interviewed Paul Levy in the town of Princeton. He had booked us a closet to do the interview at the Princeton library. I did some talking and had us upgraded to a lovely conference room that overlooked the street. We might have done better in the closet because of the noise. At one point, a man with a leaf blower stationed himself on the sidewalk below for fifteen minutes. I'm betting he saw us and decided to help out.
After the interview, we asked Paul Levy where to eat. He said out of town. He mourned the passing of all his favorite restaurants in the town of Princeton. Since, we were a minute away, HK and I strolled the campus for a few minutes. Ah, to be back in college.
On Day 2, we did the double interview. We had Tom Losonczy in the morning and Herb Cohen in the afternoon. Tom lived in a great house on the top of hill overlooking a forest of trees with their leaves changing color. Tom only told us one story off the record. It had to do with Columbian marching powder. Tom also told me I needed to contact Bob Dow.
Since we did our interview fast and had time to kill, we returned to our hotel in between interviews. I emailed Bob Dow to see where he was located and whether he would be up for an interview.
Herb Cohen lived on the bottom of a two level duplex. The kids on the floor above us decided that during the interview would be the perfect time for them to practice their clogging in hobnail boots. Herb also wouldn't shut off his computer so we got a lot of message pings on the sound recording. Herb also assured us he was in contact with Neil Diamond, his High School friend, and that he would forward our message of a request for an interview. Herb's apartment also had a less than pleasing scent that I kept smelling for the rest of the evening.
Bob Dow emailed me back and said he was up for an interview. We went back and forth about the time and where to meet. I eventually realized he was also in New Jersey, south of Princeton. I told him we should just cover over now, Friday, and meet with him. He said okay but not until the afternoon.
Originally, HK and I were to drive in through Redhook in Brooklyn and maybe see some sights on the way to the NYAC. Now, we were going to be an hour further away, pushing us late into rush hour traffic. But it was part of the job.
Seeing how much money Bob Dow has, I probably wouldn't have been as pushy. He's a retired investment manager that bought the house across the street from the school he wanted his daughter to attend. When we sat down, he cracked a bottle of wine from his own vineyard in Bordeaux. That kind of money. Winery in France kind of money.
But he talked to us. And seemed to enjoy killing a bottle of wine with HK while telling stories of Micheal D'Asaro.
So, Friday rush hour traffic in New York. Good times. It was about a 2 and a half hour drive normally from where we started in New Jersey. And the traffic wasn't too horrendous until we got to the Lincoln Turnel. It took us 45 minutes to get through the Lincoln tunnel section. Not knowing the traffic politics, I was also in the wrong lane when I got out of the tunnel for our turn uptown towards the NYAC. Instead, we set in this Lord of the Flies intersection. People kept jockeying for position to eventually get through the lights in front of us. No one paid attention to the rule that you don't enter an intersection unless you can leave the intersection.
The drive up Ninth avenue was equally horrible. Lots of stopping and staring at the flickering billboards.
Fortunately, the New York Athletic Club they had valet parking to take the car away and a bell hop to take our bags up to our rooms. We got to stay at the NYAC courtesy of Soren Thompson, who is president of the Fencing Inter-league at the club.
There is also a dress code for the main area of the club, so I had spent the majority of the day in dress shoes, slacks, and a collared shirt just so I wouldn't be booted out of the club.
More to come.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm