March 4, 1999
Dear Everyone:
There’s no place like home!!!
As business trips go, it was OK.
I got into “Hobby” Saturday evening and was assigned a rental car
with a “NeverLost” navigation system “at no extra charge”.
Good thing, too, or I might have demanded my money back.
The little magic box and I didn’t always agree on whether or not
we were, in fact, lost.
I had all day Sunday with nothing to do.
I was in a hotel in downtown “Hobby”.
Downtown is downtown, regardless of what city you’re in.
Years ago, we kids were watching a sci-fi movie about giant
grasshoppers overtaking the world.
At one point, the movie showed a deserted city with bus-sized
grasshoppers crawling all over the place.
Dad came in, took one look at the TV screen and pronounced:
“They must have filmed that in downtown
Chicago on a Sunday
morning.”
I thought about just hanging around in the hotel
room, watching movies on HBO.
But then I told myself, “How many times are you going to have a
free day in another city/state?
Go to the
Space Center. It’s a
part of history. Improve
your mind, or something.”
The hotel guest information book included
directions to the Johnson Space Center (JSC).
It did not include a specific address, which the little magic box
needed to give directions, but I already had instructions, so I figured
the little magic box could take a rest.
With that, I got into the rental car and drove to
Galveston.
Not that I had any desire to go to Galveston.
As far as I’m concerned, “Galveston”
was a song that
Glen Campbell sang when I was in high school.
It is also the destination of Interstate 45 South from “Hobby”.
I found out later that the instructions in the guest information
book were just a tad off the mark.
By about 10 miles, actually.
So I kept driving south, still looking for a sign
that would direct me to the Space Center, long after I’d passed it.
Until I wound up on Galveston Island, where the “Freeway ends,
1000 feet” sign was a clue that I had gone a little too far.
Once I was in “downtown” Galveston Island, I managed to turn
around and get back onto I-45 North, still hearing Glen Campbell singing
“Galveston” in my head.
On the return trip, I got lucky and spotted the
“Space Center, next two exits” sign, ten miles short of where the guest
information said it would be.
So I did get to spend the better part of the afternoon wandering
around the museum and taking a tram ride through the actual Space
Center. And since I was only
looking for a way to kill a few hours, the (unscheduled) trip to
Galveston certainly applied as it probably killed an hour all by itself.
On the plus side, that large body of water on the right was the
Gulf of Mexico,
so I can honestly claim that I’ve seen the Gulf.
On Monday, I went to the Company Tower in downtown
“Hobby” (the reason for staying downtown instead of out in west “Hobby”)
and met with some
Versatile
users. After lunch, I told
the little magic box that I was going to XXXXX Harwin Drive, which is
way out west. (This is the
address of the “Hobby” Records Center.)
Right away, we ran afoul of detours as the main downtown streets
are (constantly) under construction.
The little magic box said, “Go straight”; but the
big orange barrels said, “You can’t get there from here.”
I managed to find my way to I-45, but couldn’t seem to find the
interchange to highway 59.
When I passed the “Space Center, next two exits” sign, I told myself,
“%(#@*& it! I’m on my way to
Galveston again!” I got off
the freeway, turned around and got back on, heading north (no small feat
in “Hobby”) and told the little magic box to paint me a new map.
We proceeded fairly well for a while, going from
I-45 to I-610 to highway 59 and finally off the freeway system
altogether. But when I
spotted Harwin Drive and turned onto it, the little magic box beeped at
me like an angry driving instructor.
(“Not that way, you idiot!”)
Eventually, it said, “Beep-beep-beep!
Make a safe U-turn.”
I was looking for a place to pull off the road and turn around when I
spotted a sign that read, “The Company Companies.
XXXXX Harwin Drive.”
I looked at the little magic box and said, “You’re
more lost than I am.”
After meeting with “Lewis” in the Records Center, I
found the hotel, without the help of the little magic box.
While I unpacked, I turned on the TV and got the inevitable local
newscast. Seems I was just
in time for the big annual
rodeo and livestock show.
There was a lot of talk about the local
humane society
getting on the rodeo’s case because of “cat roping”, which the humane
people said was cruel and unnecessary.
I thought, “They’re roping cats? Not only is it cruel and unnecessary, but it doesn’t sound very practical either.” I had a mental image of cowboys with little, tiny lariats, trying to run down a bunch of angry kitties. Then I realized that the newscaster needs to work on his consonants. It was calf roping that the humane society wanted to outlaw. And, personally, I concur.
Tuesday was spent with the software people, the
main reason for the whole bloody trip.
Then, Wednesday morning, I gave the little magic box one last
chance to guide me back to the airport, or at least close enough to find
the rental agency again.
And so, finally to home, where I unpacked my
suitcase and promptly began packing a smaller suitcase for next Sunday’s
trip to “Idaho Falls”. Quite
the little globe-trotter.
(Roping cats, indeed.
Only in Texas.)
Love, as always,
Pete
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