UA 881 BOS ORD 0915 1058 320 2D

Security at Logan took a full five minutes, so I was in
plenty of time for the 8:14. But they'd just given away
the last seat in front, so I waited the hour for the
next flight, which was fine: the feeder for ORD-NRT. I
(rumpled and sartorially challenged) sat next to
impeccably suited Dr. Ii, a pleasant gent who works for
a biopharmaceutical with offices in Tokyo, Portsmouth,
London, and somewhere in Switzerland, so he gets to fly
a lot among those places. Pretty good flight. Very full.

I wasn't too keen on breakfast, so I told Wendy, the
FA I've seen several times already this year, to hold
off until everyone else had been served. She came back
with the news that they had extras of both, so I had,
in my mistaken impression that the UA food service was
rising, the dreaded breakfast burrito - a soft and
pleasant enough tortilla with an egg filling that was
like sand with a few scallion bits and some glue, er,
cheese, holding it all together. The fruit cup that came
on the side was ok, the usual pineapple, strawberry,
kiwi, grapes thing, with all the fruit ripe this time.

Had a glass of some sauvignon blanc thing with the egg
thing and went to sleep.

UA 427 ORD PHX 1155 1444 757 3A

Bad start as my seatmate (affable enough) bustled
aboard with his wife and 14-y-o daughter and promptly
knocked my (thankfully mostly empty) orange juice cup
onto my white pants. Other than that he seemed fine,
and we had a pleasant chat; he's taking his family on
vac to Sedona, so we said we might meet each other in
a pub while the ladies spent their time and money at
the shopping mall ...

I was about 4th asked - the woman asked immediately
before me was thanked for being a UGS customer; a lot
of those types out of Chicago I guess. Choices were
ravioli with cheese or "an antipasti," said Pedro the
purser. The latter turned out to be a cook's tour of
UA business class appetizers from the last year; not
bad, actually: a shrimp, very lemony, firm, fresh;
good tender (Canadian by my guess) prosciutto;
marinated cucumber salad on a lettuce leaf' two slices
of pretty yummy smoked salmon; and a grilled zucchini
slice. Oh yes, a couple tiny bocconcini of mozzarella.
Bread was pretty good, low salt; butter was pretty
good, no salt. I asked the FA what the red was; she
said a Merlot; I asked if it was that Chilean stuff;
she said no; I asked for a glass. It was that Chilean
stuff. She asked if I wanted a second glass; I said no.
Finished off with an oatmal-raisin cookie and a
Courvoisier; whereupon my seatmate decided to live
dangerously and have one, too, only his was on the
rocks :Q

Got in early and tried to log into FT and found chat
the only thing open; so I stayed there for quite a long
time - it was kind of fun. Then off to do my e-mail and
get picked up by jan_az for dinner. We wandered around
downtown a bit, hindered by the fact that we had
forgotten the exact name and location of the place where
we'd agreed to meet people. We ended up parking under
the Bank of America and wandering south, thanks to a tip
from a girl at a hairdresser's, where we inquired about
likely places, and then back north thanks to a tip from
a guy who led us to a restaurant where HE worked (on
Jefferson between 3rd and 4th, right by the AWA Arena),
where they cheerfully provided maps and advice. We
finally decided that the Copper Square Grill in Arizona
Center sounded like the most likely choice (although
there is a Copper Square Cafe, which is a good half
dozen blocks away). We whiled away a bit of time there,
sort of wondering if we were in the right place;
eventually ordered some of the happy hour snacks -
prime rib sliders (tiny little roast beef sandwiches
with a horseradish cream sauce, at 50c each, but in
fact 8 would make a sizable meal, so not badly priced)
and Buffalo wings (a little dry and scrawny, also not
very hot); as soon as the food arrived, so also did
Viajero Joven, perfect timing, followed
shortly by JenniferInAZ. A pleasure talking to both of
them. Jan and I tasted the pours of the day - a BV Pinot
Noir, which was sort of smoky and thick and wrong for
the 85F weather, and the pleasantly semi-dry, rather
fruity Ch. Ste. Michelle Riesling, which we ended up
with. The youngsters don't drink, and the old fart (moi)
finished most of the alcohol and had more later.

At length we headed to the dining room for our real
dinner.

Jennifer's grilled salmon looked pretty good; not good
enough for me to violate protocol by asking for a bite;
VJ's fried chicken salad likewise. Jan_az had shrimp and
spinach over penne in a white wine garlic sauce, which I
did taste with pleasure. My roast chicken, a generous
serving, had been brined, and so was tender and juicy
but a tad salty. I'd asked for it a little on the rare
side, and the waitress informed me that that's the house
style anyway, and they've had problems with people
sending it back. It came with "almond pilaf" - heavily
cumin-scented and slightly greasy with a couple almond
slivers kind of lost in the mess. Also a mixed veg came
with the main dishes ... mostly green and yellow squash
with a few carrots and red onion slivers, not my fave
but I struggled manfully with them so as to be able to
say that I ate my veggies.

VJ had to take off, because he was cleaning up his
apartment in anticipation of a guest, but the three
of us stayed for dessert: chocolate mousse cake,
which was chocolate mousse inside a cake; cheesecake,
which was cheesecake; and Six Grapes, which was mine
(the waitress said it was Seven Grapes; I checked the
bill, and she only charged for six).

A pleasant evening for a stroll; we saw Jennifer to
her car and then walked down 3rd to the garage.
Jan took me down Van Buren a couple miles from the
restaurant to my hotel, the $40 Best Inn, which I'd
picked because it had a free shuttle to and from the
airport and was really close to a Bill Johnson's, where
I was thinking of picking up another of those "I Ate
the Big One" t-shirts, which of course I didn't do
thanks to the good sportspersonship of the FT/MMers
who had come out to dinner. I should have found a shirt
that read "It Bit the Big One" when I found my hotel
room. Jan was really leery of leaving me off in that
neighborhood; I don't mind such - when I was doing a
lot of touring, with motels paid for by cheesy agents
and penny-pinching impresari, I was used to this kind of
place, and nobody ever, ever gave me a hard time about
my musical instrument.* You pay what you get for. What I
got from the pleasant enough Indian girl at check-in:

pluses:
a biggish room, probably bigger than I'd get at most
real hotels, reasonably well appointed

a large spotless washing-up/dressing area

offputting things:
the room smelled like hospital disinfectant

the box spring had a big old blood stain, not nosebleed
big or gushing period big, I mean attempted murder big

Also the bathroom itself hadn't been quite sufficiently
cleaned ... evidence in the bathroom gave evidence that
a recent guest was a black-haired male, probably east
or southeast Asian, 20-40 and probably 25-35, who blows
his nose in the shower and who has some interest in
herbal medicine. I'm afraid I didn't help the general
ambience by getting a double-barrelled nosebleed in the
shower.

Finally, the pillows smelled of old Caucasian male. I
found one eventually that didn't - it smelled of old
Caucasian female who used Vick's Vap-O-Rub - and slept
okay.

* You heard about the viola player (not myself) who
left his viola in the back seat of his car? When he got
back, his car had been broken into ... and there were
two violas in the back seat of his car.