Big Apple Con 2006: Greg's journal - Thursday (#1)
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Big Apple Con 2006: Greg's journal - Thursday (#1)
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Woke up at 4:30am to catch my flight to New York for the Big Apple Con and the First Annual ValiantFans.com East Coast Meeting. After a quick shower and packing up the car, we were on our way to the airport. Looking for somewhere to grab some breakfast (because everything was closed), I joked that we should call Justin (architect) in Colorado and wake him up at 4:30am (his time), just to see if he would get ticked off. I laughed at the thought, but decided against it.
My wife headed back home after walking me to the security checkpoint, so I had about a half-hour to wait for my flight. No problems in Little Rock, so I was in Cincinnati on time. A two-hour layover gave me a chance to grab some Chick-Fil-A and let my wife and mom know I was halfway to NYC. I got a text message from Justin saying that he missed his flight, so I called and found out that he was going to take an alternate route for about the same price and only 30 minutes difference on his arrival time.
From Cincinnati to New York was a smooth ride as well, so I was on-the-ground in NYC without a hitch. Once I figured out LaGuardia's layout, I took a bus over to the main concourse to wait for Brian (betterthanezra). He was scheduled to arrive about two hours after me, but since the hotel room was in his name, it made sense to wait, split a cab, and then check into the hotel.
While waiting, I read a little bit of The Elegant Universe by B. Greene, proposing a harmonious union of general relativity and quantum mechanics via string theory. I mention it here for posterity since it is only a "theory" at this point in time, but will undoubtedly be either fact or fiction in the future as science examines the implications. (I don't know whether mentioning this book makes me more of a "nerd", "geek", or "dork", but I guess I don't care... and I thought maybe some of you would be interested from a Solar, Man of the Atom realistic-science perspective.)
When I thought Brian's flight should have arrived, I checked the status only to find out that it was delayed about an hour and a half. Instead of heading back to my seat near the baggage claim, I decided to explore the barren hallways and discovered what is basically a mall inside the airport. Shops and a food court on two levels with tons of chairs and opportunities for people-watching. I felt dumb for sitting in baggage claim for the last hour. I spotted a celebrity while waiting, Mike Tirico from ESPN/ABC Sports arrived and explored the hallways a minute before disappearing into a shop that rents cubicles for internet access.
Brian arrived and after gathering his bags we booked a trip to the Hotel Pennsylvania on the Airlink shuttle service. They asked for a name, so I said "Holland... like the country", and the woman said, "Yes, I know" and handed us a printout to give to the shuttle driver. Brian put the printout in his bag because they told us it would be about twenty minutes for the shuttle to arrive. We headed over to grab a seat and wait. About one minute later, someone is yelling "Allen! 4032! Allen!" and I realize that they might be talking about us... but I don't know our number. Sure enough, Brian finds the printout and we're "Allen 4032". I still don't know what country that woman thinks is called "Allen".
We boarded the shuttle with about six other people to head toward the hotels of Manhattan. The reason we took the shuttle was that it was $13 per person, regardless of the amount of time in transit. At 6:00pm on a Thursday, we figured traffic would be too thick to split a timed cab ride. About 45 minutes later, we were dropped off at door of the Hotel Pennsylvania on 33rd Street. We proceeded into the lobby and Brian headed to the reception desk while I watched the bags. Twenty minutes later, Brian has the keys and tells me that they wanted $289 per night until he insisted that our reservation was for $189 per night and that we had booked it weeks ago at that price.
I figured the hotel was hoping for business travellers who put the charge on their company cards without double-checking the rate. This was only the first indication that the hotel is poorly managed. Brian paid cash for the first night, and had received a printout for the whole stay, showing that we were going to be charged $189 per night instead of the $289 they quoted. With taxes and fees, it was nearly $220 per night... but at least it wasn't $320. Brian was told that he could pay cash again the next day.
John (svair) had called shortly after we boarded the shuttle, and we had to tell him that we didn't know how long it would take to reach the hotel. Since we now had our room, we called John back in order to meet up briefly and store some of the convention items for Friday in our hotel room. John was outside of Manhattan and driving in.
We heard from Chris G. (k_c_collectibles), and found out that he was also in Hotel Pennsylvania and staying one floor up. We chatted a bit with Chris, and soon after John had arrived and called to let us know he was parked at the front door. We headed downstairs and out the door we entered earlier, but didn't see him anywhere. I called him and he said, "I'm right here", so I said, "33rd Street, right?", but he said "No, Seventh Avenue at Madison Square Garden". Brian and I headed back into the lobby and down to another door for Seventh Avenue, and there was John, his father-in-law, the car, Madison Square Garden, and Penn Station. It was almost shocking because I didn't expect to see any major landmarks so close to the hotel, much less right out the front door. I told John that we were at the "other front door", but laughed because Seventh Avenue is obviously the front... we just didn't know it.
Because John couldn't stay parked where he was, we talked only briefly before he headed home for the night. Brian and I headed back up to the room with the bags, folders, and boxes that John had dropped off. I was carrying two original cases of Deathmate books to be used as giveaways for the con. I joked with John that they weren't worth the amount of space that they were taking up... in the world.
The Deathmate books got revenge for my comment by being so heavy that I had to stop in the middle of the hallway on the 11th floor to rest and allow my arms to regain feeling. Yes, I know I'm out of shape, but I'm telling you those Deathmate books weighed more with each step, as if they were absorbing mass from the lead-based paint undoubtedly layered for decades earlier onto the walls of the 80-year-old hotel.
With everything stashed into the room, Brian and I headed out for some dinner at roughly 9:00pm, not having a clue where we were headed, but sure we would find something. Brian's first flights of his life had taken all day, including an extra hour-and-a-half on the ground in the Denver delay, and he hadn't eaten much in the past twelve hours. My own first trip to New York left us clueless in terms of where to eat.
We wandered a couple of blocks right, left, right, and saw a sign for Jack Dempsey's Bar & Grill. Since I recognized the name (but didn't know why) and since we were ready for something, anything, to eat, we headed in. It turned out to be an Irish pub/restaurant owned/run/founded/licensed/approved or something to do with former boxer Jack Dempsey. I ordered "fish & chips", which is traditional for an Irish pub (or so this Arkansas boy thinks), and Brian ordered a shrimp pasta plate. I was more thirsty than hungry, so I asked the waitress if my Diet Coke would have free refills. She said "sure, up to about ten", so I laughed and said, "ok, then I'll pay for another one for numbers 11 to 20."
The food was served in no time and was pretty good, but I think Brian would have eaten it all no matter what. The waitress was counting each Diet Coke refill, and announced "number four" sometime half-way through the meal. Once we were about done, I got one last refill (number five) and we headed back to the hotel, past the velvet-rope "upscale" gentlemen's club and the 25cent adult shop facing it, past the garbage piled far and wide on the sidewalk, and past the non-stop cabs filling the streets and continuing to honk at each other with anger. Almost midnight, Thursday, New York city. Strangely, it was exactly how I imagined it.
Just before we headed up to the room, we checked the menu of the restaurant in the hotel. Joe O's appeared to be an Irish pub/restaurant, with the same menu, and priced almost exactly the same as Jack Dempsey's, without the three block walk. Oh well, live and learn. The sound of live music coming from Joe O's in the hallway was the Crash Test Dummies' other song... not their only known "hit" song, "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm", but their lesser known song, which made us wonder if the Crash Test Dummies themselves were playing that night because... who else would play that?
Woke up at 4:30am to catch my flight to New York for the Big Apple Con and the First Annual ValiantFans.com East Coast Meeting. After a quick shower and packing up the car, we were on our way to the airport. Looking for somewhere to grab some breakfast (because everything was closed), I joked that we should call Justin (architect) in Colorado and wake him up at 4:30am (his time), just to see if he would get ticked off. I laughed at the thought, but decided against it.
My wife headed back home after walking me to the security checkpoint, so I had about a half-hour to wait for my flight. No problems in Little Rock, so I was in Cincinnati on time. A two-hour layover gave me a chance to grab some Chick-Fil-A and let my wife and mom know I was halfway to NYC. I got a text message from Justin saying that he missed his flight, so I called and found out that he was going to take an alternate route for about the same price and only 30 minutes difference on his arrival time.
From Cincinnati to New York was a smooth ride as well, so I was on-the-ground in NYC without a hitch. Once I figured out LaGuardia's layout, I took a bus over to the main concourse to wait for Brian (betterthanezra). He was scheduled to arrive about two hours after me, but since the hotel room was in his name, it made sense to wait, split a cab, and then check into the hotel.
While waiting, I read a little bit of The Elegant Universe by B. Greene, proposing a harmonious union of general relativity and quantum mechanics via string theory. I mention it here for posterity since it is only a "theory" at this point in time, but will undoubtedly be either fact or fiction in the future as science examines the implications. (I don't know whether mentioning this book makes me more of a "nerd", "geek", or "dork", but I guess I don't care... and I thought maybe some of you would be interested from a Solar, Man of the Atom realistic-science perspective.)
When I thought Brian's flight should have arrived, I checked the status only to find out that it was delayed about an hour and a half. Instead of heading back to my seat near the baggage claim, I decided to explore the barren hallways and discovered what is basically a mall inside the airport. Shops and a food court on two levels with tons of chairs and opportunities for people-watching. I felt dumb for sitting in baggage claim for the last hour. I spotted a celebrity while waiting, Mike Tirico from ESPN/ABC Sports arrived and explored the hallways a minute before disappearing into a shop that rents cubicles for internet access.
Brian arrived and after gathering his bags we booked a trip to the Hotel Pennsylvania on the Airlink shuttle service. They asked for a name, so I said "Holland... like the country", and the woman said, "Yes, I know" and handed us a printout to give to the shuttle driver. Brian put the printout in his bag because they told us it would be about twenty minutes for the shuttle to arrive. We headed over to grab a seat and wait. About one minute later, someone is yelling "Allen! 4032! Allen!" and I realize that they might be talking about us... but I don't know our number. Sure enough, Brian finds the printout and we're "Allen 4032". I still don't know what country that woman thinks is called "Allen".
We boarded the shuttle with about six other people to head toward the hotels of Manhattan. The reason we took the shuttle was that it was $13 per person, regardless of the amount of time in transit. At 6:00pm on a Thursday, we figured traffic would be too thick to split a timed cab ride. About 45 minutes later, we were dropped off at door of the Hotel Pennsylvania on 33rd Street. We proceeded into the lobby and Brian headed to the reception desk while I watched the bags. Twenty minutes later, Brian has the keys and tells me that they wanted $289 per night until he insisted that our reservation was for $189 per night and that we had booked it weeks ago at that price.
I figured the hotel was hoping for business travellers who put the charge on their company cards without double-checking the rate. This was only the first indication that the hotel is poorly managed. Brian paid cash for the first night, and had received a printout for the whole stay, showing that we were going to be charged $189 per night instead of the $289 they quoted. With taxes and fees, it was nearly $220 per night... but at least it wasn't $320. Brian was told that he could pay cash again the next day.
John (svair) had called shortly after we boarded the shuttle, and we had to tell him that we didn't know how long it would take to reach the hotel. Since we now had our room, we called John back in order to meet up briefly and store some of the convention items for Friday in our hotel room. John was outside of Manhattan and driving in.
We heard from Chris G. (k_c_collectibles), and found out that he was also in Hotel Pennsylvania and staying one floor up. We chatted a bit with Chris, and soon after John had arrived and called to let us know he was parked at the front door. We headed downstairs and out the door we entered earlier, but didn't see him anywhere. I called him and he said, "I'm right here", so I said, "33rd Street, right?", but he said "No, Seventh Avenue at Madison Square Garden". Brian and I headed back into the lobby and down to another door for Seventh Avenue, and there was John, his father-in-law, the car, Madison Square Garden, and Penn Station. It was almost shocking because I didn't expect to see any major landmarks so close to the hotel, much less right out the front door. I told John that we were at the "other front door", but laughed because Seventh Avenue is obviously the front... we just didn't know it.
Because John couldn't stay parked where he was, we talked only briefly before he headed home for the night. Brian and I headed back up to the room with the bags, folders, and boxes that John had dropped off. I was carrying two original cases of Deathmate books to be used as giveaways for the con. I joked with John that they weren't worth the amount of space that they were taking up... in the world.
The Deathmate books got revenge for my comment by being so heavy that I had to stop in the middle of the hallway on the 11th floor to rest and allow my arms to regain feeling. Yes, I know I'm out of shape, but I'm telling you those Deathmate books weighed more with each step, as if they were absorbing mass from the lead-based paint undoubtedly layered for decades earlier onto the walls of the 80-year-old hotel.
With everything stashed into the room, Brian and I headed out for some dinner at roughly 9:00pm, not having a clue where we were headed, but sure we would find something. Brian's first flights of his life had taken all day, including an extra hour-and-a-half on the ground in the Denver delay, and he hadn't eaten much in the past twelve hours. My own first trip to New York left us clueless in terms of where to eat.
We wandered a couple of blocks right, left, right, and saw a sign for Jack Dempsey's Bar & Grill. Since I recognized the name (but didn't know why) and since we were ready for something, anything, to eat, we headed in. It turned out to be an Irish pub/restaurant owned/run/founded/licensed/approved or something to do with former boxer Jack Dempsey. I ordered "fish & chips", which is traditional for an Irish pub (or so this Arkansas boy thinks), and Brian ordered a shrimp pasta plate. I was more thirsty than hungry, so I asked the waitress if my Diet Coke would have free refills. She said "sure, up to about ten", so I laughed and said, "ok, then I'll pay for another one for numbers 11 to 20."
The food was served in no time and was pretty good, but I think Brian would have eaten it all no matter what. The waitress was counting each Diet Coke refill, and announced "number four" sometime half-way through the meal. Once we were about done, I got one last refill (number five) and we headed back to the hotel, past the velvet-rope "upscale" gentlemen's club and the 25cent adult shop facing it, past the garbage piled far and wide on the sidewalk, and past the non-stop cabs filling the streets and continuing to honk at each other with anger. Almost midnight, Thursday, New York city. Strangely, it was exactly how I imagined it.
Just before we headed up to the room, we checked the menu of the restaurant in the hotel. Joe O's appeared to be an Irish pub/restaurant, with the same menu, and priced almost exactly the same as Jack Dempsey's, without the three block walk. Oh well, live and learn. The sound of live music coming from Joe O's in the hallway was the Crash Test Dummies' other song... not their only known "hit" song, "Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm", but their lesser known song, which made us wonder if the Crash Test Dummies themselves were playing that night because... who else would play that?
Last edited by greg on Wed Apr 05, 2006 1:59 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Vault-Keeper
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Really! I could have cruised down, and we could have had a mini-meeting!Byrneout wrote:You had a two hour layover in Cincinnati and didn't tell me?
Meanie.
BTW, if you were at the Cincinnati Airport, you were really in Kentucky and not Ohio! For some strange reason, the "Cincinnati" Airport is in Northern Kentucky, across the Ohio River. Go figure!---Steve
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Byrneout
- ...and in THIS corner...
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It gets even stranger than that. It's in one county in Kentucky, yet an adjacent county collects the taxes and performs the maintenance...Vault-Keeper wrote:Really! I could have cruised down, and we could have had a mini-meeting!Byrneout wrote:You had a two hour layover in Cincinnati and didn't tell me?
Meanie.
BTW, if you were at the Cincinnati Airport, you were really in Kentucky and not Ohio! For some strange reason, the "Cincinnati" Airport is in Northern Kentucky, across the Ohio River. Go figure!---Steve
I didn't know you were that close, VK?
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Vault-Keeper
- Mr. Sunshine
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