One last adventure or two

My final day in London was not one to disappoint my fans. Little did I know when I awoke that morning at the unbelievable hour of 5am did I realize it was actually a holiday. Yes ladies and gentleman it is Saint Patrick’s day, a day for all Irish and non-Irish alike to dress in green, eat potatoes and Guinness (with a fork for both of course). Now first you might ask why on earth would I get up at 5am, well I am glad you did. My traveling companion and good friend (who otherwise goes by the name mom) had a flight to catch and one must be polite and see friends off. After she left it was impossible to return to the land of slumber so better to try to catch up on some work and prepare for another day.

I will not bore you with work at the convention for that is neither interesting to you my readers nor germane to the conversation, however a funny thing did happen on the way to work (or the forum). Cell phones are curious things. In many places in LA they are such a nuisance that entire areas of restaurants and public transportation are deemed both non-smoking and non-phone areas. Well the British have a much better method. The subway was packed to the walls with men in suits, women in skirts and heels, the occasional student on their way to prep school, and countless others all listening to their ipods, reading a newspaper or simply staring into space their own thoughts hidden behind a mask of indifference and boredom. They all slowly sway to the movement of the train, the only noise the rush of the wind outside and the wheels traveling on metal tracks. No one speaks, for all are in their own bubble. A phone rings, not rings but plays a musical jingle. A couple of people smile as the jingle is one from a popular chart topping song and definitely does not fit on a phone with only a few notes. But this cell phone is top of the line with a quality speaker that is made for those with significant hearing disabilities. Soon both sides of the conversation can be heard by a numerous people all around this fairly non-distinct man in a black suit, which shirt, and striped blue tie. Now many people smile hearing this friend of his tell him of adventures from the night before. But one classic British woman sets out to inform the gentleman that we can hear the conversation, this of course he repeats to his friend. By now most of the train is listening to this exchange between the businessman, a random female passenger and a stranger on a phone. This conversation continues and the businessman is a good sport. Somehow in comes to pass that most of the train shouts at once to the phone that they very much enjoyed talking to him and cheers. The friend on the phone hears 50 voices and sends his best wishes to the entire train and may they all have a good day. It was enough to put a smile on a face of even the most stogy of travelers. What a marvelous way to start the day.

Upon completing work and it being such an unseasonably warm London day devoid of both rain or fog, or moisture of any form, I decided to walk the city. This included walking through Hyde part which had tulips and other flowers blooming filling the air with such a glorious smell. Following which was watching the changing of the guard at Buckingham palace, not quite as glorious as the state welcome to the president of Italy, but still well worth it. Something about tradition that fills the heart and mind with awe. But a mere block away is the guards barracks and training ground. This being a holiday and all a full inspection of the troops was underway. This included a couple of current troops, troops in training as young as 16 and guards of the past. All were dressed in their finest red suits except for the youngest of trainees that were in camouflage uniforms. Squad leaders inspected the troops for hours. I was there to witness a number of guards actually pass out from heat exhaustion, they were caught by fellow guards on either side and soon a squad leader would rush by with smelling salts to awaken the individual and place them back in line. Now this is the British stoicism that we are more accustomed to hearing of. And at the side were over 100 former guards, all devoid of a live gun, rather an umbrella to fill that void. These soldiers, or former soldiers was still able to march in perfect rhythm with a sense of dignity that reminds one of a king or president. It was quite easy to imagine the home guard of geriatrics protecting her majesties land in WWII.

But yet there was still the decision of what to do for the late evening. Now I could spend it in a hotel room watching bad British television or maybe catching up on email in the hotel. How about instead to see another Broadway show. When in the right place, at the right time, why not. So to the Producers I went. On the way I encountered numerous revelers all preparing for an evening of drinking, dancing and general merriment for the holiday. Green was clearly the color of the evening, and all were dressed to impress. But no matter, for I had a show to attend. Certain disappointments did arise when my seat was moved by the ticket company post purchase to an obstructed view in the rafters, but no matter. I was seated next to 5 lovely ladies from Texas who were on their third Broadway show of the trip. Fear not their reputation was quite safe with me, they all had children older than I. The show was both humorous and entertaining and is recommended to all even if Nathan Lane was not the star. Following the final applause, and the curtain falling for the final time, it was time to enter the night once more. It was merely 11pm which means the Irish were only halfway through their merriment but many were on their way to their next stop, most probably a private dwelling. With the oldest of emotions being displayed in doorways between couple of opposite sexes and occasionally with the same sex for all to see. In the cramped elevator to get into the underground the men decide on mutual decision to sing some drinking song while jumping up and down with all their might. This was met by screams and gasps by both the women in the elevator as well as the cables holding it up as it descended 270 equivalent steps down into the depths of London. Let us say there were many relieved sighs when the elevator finally arrived and the opposite door opened. Fear not my readers I did arrive safe and sound and very much alone in my comfortable hotel room. No attractive Co-Ed for me, or geriatric maid on a group vacation.

Overall it was an exciting adventure of a trip, filled with two sightings of the queen, one of the Italian president, numerous members of parliament and royal guards. Two great Broadway shows and even some native British food. It will be good to return home but the thought of attending graduate school at the London School of business did present itself and does present an attractive thought. Definitely something to think about.