As I mentioned in my previous post, I am freshly returned from a spot of job-related travel -- in this case, to Rochester, New York. I'm here to tell you, incidentally, that Rochester is wonderfully well provided with excellent non-chain Italian restaurants. I dined last evening, for example, at Agatina's, where I enjoyed something called "Chicken Wellington" that was just incredibly good ... it's probably a good thing I don't live there, else I'd be even fatter than I am. I "selected" this restaurant by coming out of the workplace, kind of late and tired and hungry, and asking Miss Garmin, the GPS Lady, to direct me to the nearest Italian restaurant (it was 0.8 miles, as it turns out). What a town -- pick a totally random restaurant, and you just can't miss! And did I mention the Yuengling's beer? No? Well, it was really tasty, too.
But I digress. Rochester is almost-but-not-quite 500 miles from the Fort. However, I had to go on (very) short notice, and I needed to carry a couple of fairly heavy pieces of test equipment with me. So instead of doing the usual airport thing, I asked my employer to rent me a car and find me a place to sleep, and I drove there and back. It's about eight hours' driving time each way, so you pretty much use up a day each, coming and going. In the past, when I've flown there, it involves a feeder flight to Detroit (or Cleveland), and a second flight from there to Rochester; and what with all the chicken guano involved in air travel these days, it uses up a day each way. In fact, I suspect the full trip by air probably takes (a little) more time than the trip by road took me. And, driving, I didn't see a single overupholstered TSA goon all day long; nor was my bag pawed through; nor did I walk through an electronic stripper machine.
I'm smiling.
And, if at all possible, I'll never board another commercial aircraft again. It's a shame the airlines are no doubt "too big to fail."
3 comments:
My husband's Miss Garmin is named Sheila, she has the Australian accent. What would we DO without GPS?
Those things are clever -- without a doubt.
So, your husband's is Australian? That's pretty cool. Mine seems purely American, and she gets exasperated pretty easily. When I miss a turn, or just decide to go a different way, it always seems to me that by the second or third time she has to say "recalculating," she's sounding really tense and out-of-sorts. I should be a more compliant driver, I suppose.
Yeah, "recalculating" with an attitude. Makes me snicker every time.
You can choose the language and accent on ours. Sheila irritates me though, she doesn't speak "american" very well. LOL
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