AUS MegaDO 2010
AS 658 SJC AUS 0855 1415 73G 11C
My uncle, a good sport, drove me to Morgan Hill to catch the
68 bus, which arrived a hair late at about 0515. I got to
Santa Teresa, the light rail terminus in time to catch a
train at around 0530. A smooth ride to Metro/Airport, where
I found myself at the beginning of a 35-min hole between
buses, the longest one in the service schedule, not counting
the 11-5 overnight. Nonetheless, I was at the airport with
a good cushion, especially as security took about 1 min.
Martini Monkey was closed, and there's no club, even a paid
one, in dingy, nasty Terminal C, due to be demolished this
year (the bag claim area is already gone). Internet is free
and apparently airportwide, so that was a consolation.
So here's a reason for gate liceage: this flight boarded in
this way: F and MVP Gold; MVP and partner elites; and then
the wonderful scrum of "all rows, all passengers." I found
a spot for my carryon fairly close, but some guy in the next
row, arriving a bit late, had to check his bag.
opushomes and Marsha were in the second exit row, a couple
feet behind me. I'd tried to get into one of these rows, but
as opus pointed out, I'm not important enough.
I needed to wake up, so I had a Coke Zero; it was nasty.
A Cougar Mountain oatmeal raisin cinnamon cookie. It was
okay. Why is it that a woman of my age and level of
attractiveness who hit on younger persons might be called a
cougar, whereas if I did likewise I'd be considered a creepy
old man?
AS seems to offer somewhat better recline in Y than the
airlines I tend to fly, either that or my far memory is
faulty. This worked to my disadvantage as the guy in front
reclined as far as possible and then some, bouncing back and
up and coming as close to fracturing my laptop screen as has
ever happened to me. And he kept doing it, too, obliviously.
Sheraton Austin Hotel at the Capitol, 701 East 11th Street.
The opus family and I took a cab to the Garden Inn, whence
after depositing Marsha at her room we walked to the
Sheraton for our rendezvous with the crew.
I checked in, got a room with a prized highway view, and
went toward my room to put up my stuff. The elevator opened,
and my heart leapt when out stepped lili. Any party with
lili is a good party. We greeted each other with hugs and went
our ways. I hurried to the room, made sure everything was
okay, and hied myself back downstairs; I was one of the few
who obeyed Starwood Lurker (William) when he led the way to
the bus. Eventually the cats went herded and we were off.
Central Market is a bit of a hike out of town, and on the
way there William took great and perverse pleasure in
pointing out all the wonderful places to eat en route. I
think that he is setting the scene for a new MegaDO, the
Austin nonBBQ do - you know, Magnolia Cafe for breakfast,
Fran's Burgers for lunch, and so on.
On arriving, the impression I got was whoa, I've been here.
As it turns out, I have - the Houston location, where I'd
gone to buy flowers for my hostess at my 40th reunion last
year. It's like a Whole Foods, only Texas-size and with
prices that aren't stupid. And with sampling stations all
over the place. Some of us were expecting Les Halles. It's
not that way.
We split into two groups so as to be manageable and not
disrupt the store too much. One half was to hang at the
cafe part of the store, eating and drinking and causing
havoc while the other toured; then we were to switch places.
The Director of Training, pleasant and knowledgeable, led us
through the store, enjoining us not to sample while on the
tour, as that would bog things down. monitor, Franny, lili,
and I, probably the most senior members of this august
group, promptly disobeyed her and went tasting about all
there was to taste. A togarishi-encrusted rare ahi tuna
with seaweed salad was my favorite. I offered some to lili,
who politely (i.e., without tearing my head off) refused.
One of the stations offered a decent Sangiovese and the
fruity and pleasant Butterfield Station Cabernet 08
(California someplace). Good move. We bought a few bottles,
which I believe is the desired result of this activity.
In addition I saw the Peter Lehmann and the Layer Cake
Shiraz 08 at fairly advantageous prices; I know the former
from having been fed it by Peter's wife and the latter from
Vinnin Liquors in Swampscott, MA. After some soul-searching
I got a couple bottles of the latter, as it's more luscious
and would make a better Q wine.
We cracked a bottle of the Butterfield at the cafe, with
bread and cheese (a significantly ripe Brie) courtesy of
Marsha. And in due time it was time to go back. I put the
remainder of the wine in a go cup and was one of the last
back on. Sat with Noelene on the way back; we caught up
and had a good old chat. Unfortunately, half the facts I
remembered about her actually belonged to Downunder Girl,
so I got kind of embarrassed a couple times.