The day before the trip, all hell has not broken loose. Everything’s tidily packed in my trunk, sans broken camera. A quick stop at the Target next to the office nets me the last few supplies I need - plastic baggies for airport security, mostly.
After a quick rendezvous with the rest of my immediate travel group, we checked in and somehow managed to get through the TSA Gauntlet without losing the Rubber-Glove Lottery. Once on-board, it dawns on us that our whole travel group takes up, easily, half the 767. Duty-free liquor is, naturally, broken out upon take-off and when the stewardess announces that everyone’s getting a free round courtesy of Delta, the cheers were deafening.
After a purely perfunctory dinner - even international airline food leaves something to be desired - I dosed myself up with melatonin, hoping to catch forty winks and be fresh for a morning in the British Isles. Sadly, coach is incredibly un-conducive to somnolent endeavors, particularly with a beverage cart jolting me awake every hour by slamming into my knee.
Still, earplugs and willpower made for at least twenty-three winks over the North Atlantic.
Just my luck. Three days out from the Morocco stop on the Men From Sky World Tour and I discover that my trusty old digital camera has gone kaput. Oh, it still works, sure, but every photo is almost entirely white. It doesn’t seem to be a configuration or software problem, either. I imagine the CCD got damaged somewhere in the last few weeks of travel.
Sigh. I’ve not enough cash on hand to comfortably go out and buy a new one either, so I’ll be at the mercy of my traveling companions for photographic evidence of our misadventures.
At least I now have a better excuse for not doing any more photojournalism of Georgia.
Tomorrow I depart sunny Los Angeles for stormy Atlanta, and once there I get to finally start working again. Ten weeks “off” was nice and all, but after the first two or three without much to do, I get fidgety. I doubt the hotel I’ll be staying in, for the first few days at least, will have decent net access, so this could be the last update until later this week.
I’ll try to start taking some photos when I get over to Georgia, too. There has to be something interesting to see in the area. Right, guys? Right?
Going to the South, though, is a little weird. It’s the one region of the US I’ve never actually set foot in, which means visiting will be cool, but it also means all I have to go on right now are a raft of more-than-likely unfair stereotypes. But I do like cornbread, so it’s got that going for it.
I received official notification today that the State of California, and by proxy the United States of America, has no relevant judicial records of me and I am, therefore, certifiably Not A Terrorist.
That, along with a quarter-ream of documents, has been made airborne, starting the countdown on my work visa and the unlocking of the final stage in the Men From Sky World Tour. I think I need to win another 260,000 fans in Rock Band as well, but that can be cleared up later.
Getting the official notification officially notarized was an interesting experience. The Notary doesn’t usually get people certifying their lack of criminality, apparently, and it took a good while to locate the appropriate Affirmation form. There, I had to hand-write a statement declaring that, not only am I Not A Terrorist, but, yes, the presented document is, in fact, my authentic and genuine Not A Terrorist Declaration from the State. Accompanied, of course, by a separate affirmation that I am Me, along with thumb-print.
Regardless, the path is clear for traveling to Atlanta, which I intend to do in the first few days of April.
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