As promised, here is the rest of the report.

Born at the Right Time

Me and my buddies we are travelling people
We like to go down to restaurant row
Spend those Euro-dollars
All the way from Washington to Tokyo
I see them in the airport lounge
Upon their mother's breast
They follow me with open eyes
Their uninvited guest

Never been lonely
Never been lied to
Never had to scuffle in fear
Nothing denied to
Born at the instant
The church bells chime
And the whole world whispering
Born at the right time

- Paul Simon


Me and my buddies we are travelling people and we like to go down to Cité. And that's where we found ourselves later that evening, reunited in celebration of life in a time of so much death and loss. It was both energizing and cathartic, rendered even more so by the attendance of Gaynell, the purser from my prior night's flight and now an honorary FlyerTalk member. I have to admit, after attending to a VIP (Very Irritating Passenger) such as myself, I was almost a little surprised that she showed up. But for several hours that night, every one of us could think happy and peaceful thoughts and distract our wounded spirits and consciousness from the recent tragic events, at least for a while.

After a wonderful evening of food, wine and friendship, we dispersed into the drizzly midtown evening, a few of us wandering in the direction of the NY Hilton, where I had booked a room that night. Once in the lobby, a security guard politely asked to see my ID and room key before granting me permission to enter the nearly empty 2000 room hotel. As a result of myriad cancellations in the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attack, the normally bustling lobby seemed like a ghost town. The hotel's occupancy had dwindled to a mere 20% and the executive lounge was now closed indefinitely:

Exec Lounge at the NY Hilton is Closed

Quite frankly, I have never really much cared for the staff or rooms in this rather mediocre hotel and the offering of a fairly decent executive lounge was its primary raison d'être. Shortly after I checked out the next morning, I canceled an upcoming reservation for Monday and called Starwood customer service and offered to book a room at the Sheraton Russell as long as they agreed to waive their ludicrous $5.81 per day energy surcharge. At the NY Hilton, I figured, the official attendance on Monday would be 20% minus one. By the time I ventured outside, there wasn't much of a taxi line and I was soon picked up by Mohammed the Tax Driver, who was more than amply protected by a huge American flag emblazoned across his rear window and somewhat smaller ones adorning each side of the cab.

Paranoia Blues

I fly into JFK
My heart goes boom boom
I know that customs man
He’s going to take me to that little room
Oh no no
Oh no no
There’s only one thing I need to know
Whose side are you on
Whose side are you on
I got the Paranoia Blues
Knocking Around in New York City
Well they know you for a nickel
and they stick you for the extra dime
Any way you chose
Your bound to lose in New York City
Oh I just got out in the nick of time
Well I just got out in the nick of time

- Paul Simon

After a very busy week of work and a very boozy week of play, it was finally time to flee suburban New Jersey and head back to Westchester to rendezvous with my driver. For those of you familiar with the region, I typically drive along route 287 north and then traverse across the beautiful and serene Seven Lakes Drive through Harriman Park towards the Bear Mountain bridge. While en route, I could see that some of the leaves were just beginning to reveal a tinge of their other underlying pigmentation. As is customary, I was alone in the park, my drive witnessed only by a small flock of wild turkeys, a few white tailed deer, and I presume millions of black-legged ticks and their spirochete symbionts.

I have navigated this pastoral conduit every few weeks for the past seven years and it usually takes about 70 minutes to cover the 60 miles from Parsippany to Croton-on-Hudson. As in most of my earlier drives, I was making some very good time but this time I ran into problems when I crossed the Hudson river and arrived in the vicinity of Peekskill. Route 9 southbound was completely blocked by police and all traffic had been funneled into a small side road, seriously ill-equipped for the mass of cars and trucks that quickly began to create a mile long backlog. After an additional half an hour of uncertain negotiation along unfamiliar back roads, I finally completed what would ordinarily have been a mere five minute journey. I reached my destination at about 10:15, a bit tight for my planned 10:30 pickup. But my driver was also somewhat delayed and I soon grew a little antsy when he failed to show up on time.

When he finally pulled up at about 10:50, he explained that he had also been stuck in traffic on northbound route 9A. As we drove south, I could now see the opposing traffic backed up for miles as we sped past. Near Pleasantville, I watched as the police were pulling trucks off the road for closer inspection. Boy, I am certainly glad cars cannot have bombs. As I thought back about the impediments of Peekskill, I finally figured out the cause. These detours were triggered by fear of an attack on Indian Point, the nuclear power facility that had been erected in northwestern Westchester many years ago when I was growing up.

They say nobody's ever beaten the Van Wyck

- Elaine Benis

We encountered two other monumental roadblocks along our journey to JFK. One was a multi-mile backlog comprised of northbound traffic approaching the Whitestone Bridge. It occurred to me that the Long Island Expressway's reputation as the "world's longest parking lot" was now in serious jeopardy.

We were actually doing relatively well until, of course, we reached the Van Wyck. Even during the best of times, this sluggish little excuse for a highway has proven to be a nearly insurmountable challenge and today was no different. But at least it was not in the worst shape ever; that record is still held by a trip six months ago in which it took us nearly an hour to crawl along the five mile approach to JFK. I figure all our government needs to do is to trick all the terrorists into using the Van Wyck; they would probably be trapped there forever. And perhaps they could do something about the AirTrain boondoggle too.

We were confronted by a final roadblock at the threshold to JFK but inbound traffic was relatively light at that time of day. In addition, the detoured trucks were all directed off to the side towards the nearby Ramada so they were not much of an impediment to traffic. Before arriving at terminal 7, I asked my driver how much his business has been affected by the recent tragic events. He told me that I was his first customer in two weeks! How very sad, I thought; when do the little guys get their bailout?

The last time I flew out of terminal 7, I waited in line for over fifteen minutes at an empty check-in counter staffed by a solitary agent, who yacked on the phone the whole time and refused to make eye contact with me. I eventually became so perturbed that I finally shouted out "Is everyone at this airline on strike?", much to the amusement of the nearby BA personnel. After another ten minutes of customer disservice, I was ultimately permitted to check in.

This time, things were different. I was still the only passenger in attendance but now all check-in stations were fully staffed and I had some difficulty choosing amongst such a huge plethora of check-in options. Today's check-in agent was very pleasant to deal with and it turned out she even knew Gaynell, seemingly everyone at UA does. I told her that I was astonished to see so many people on duty today, especially in light of my experiences at this terminal several weeks ago. I was also quite surprised to see that my flight to SFO was scheduled to depart from terminal 7 because all SFO-bound flights typically depart from terminal 6. She explained that UA was in the process of abandoning terminal 6 and all of the agents had been consolidated here that very morning.

UA Pulling Out of JFK Terminal 6

As UA continues its seemingly inexorable slide into a pale shadow of its former self, this certainly seems like a wise and logical move but I was still a bit stunned nevertheless. I quickly realized that things had come full circle. I remember flying out of JFK on the very day UA first opened terminal 6 and now I was flying out on the very day it was being vacated. I fondly recall the lavish festivities organized to commemorate the momentous occasion several years ago. The area by gates 1-3 were filled with throngs of happy customers and the party was serviced by wait staff plying all in attendance with copious amounts of food and drink. It was quite a classy affair, hosted by a once classy airline. United was rising and the skies were still friendly. There hasn’t been much cause for celebration lately and it was especially so today.

I passed through a nearly empty security checkpoint, casually observed by bored-looking college kids outfitted in camouflage paraphernalia, calmly toting unloaded M16s. Boy did I feel safe. The entrance to the RCC was a hectic scene of bustle and commotion. The area by the front desk was filled with throngs of people but none of them were customers. Four concierges sat in attendance but there was nobody to check in. Two employees worked quietly on some of the terminals installing new software. A few of the formerly carnation-adorned first class concierges were today dressed in jeans, scurrying around stacking boxes of junk recently evacuated from terminal 6. Several management types were huddled together, presumably to decide for whom the axe tolls. There was a bit too much hubbub in my club so I slipped into a vacant conference room where I could seek the sound of silence and await my flight in peace and solitude.


[This message has been edited by LarryU (edited 11-02-2001).]