| My Daily Reports From
New Orleans Report 1 -
Tuesday, 22 June 1999
2 days and counting.....
well it's 10 in the morning and I'm sitting here at work... network is down, boss is
screaming, users are screaming, phones are ringing off the hook and they all wonder how I
can just sit and smile through it all. Cause in 2 days I am air bound for New Orleans.
Which makes me wonder, is it against the law to feed management personnel to gators? not
all of them mind you.
okay I got my check list... camera, laptop, clothes, yearbook, and other oddities... still
though feel like I am missing something... no... not my tickets... got them right here...
room reservations... that's already taken care of... got my rides lined up... hey, who's
gonna feed my cat for five days while I'm gone? hmmm... aren't they independent anyway?
Five days? Well three to be more accurate. Two of them are spent sitting next to the guy
who has never heard of the slim fast plan fighting for elbow room... no wait, that would
be me... okay then two days next to the woman who has to have the only child in the world
capable of screaming for 5 hours straight while I try to find that last damn word in my
word search, which the publisher accidentally left out for some reason. Even failing to
note that in the front of the book. Just my luck too, the page I used to write my return
flight information on so my ride would be able to pick me up happened to be the solution
to this puzzle. Just how much does one of these air phones cost to use anyway... never
mind.. wouldn't be able to here over "Attila the Lungs" wailing aloud next to
me.
But did I get a deal on these tickets... 200 bucks round trip... easily worth it.. so I
gotta be up at 4 in the morning to catch a plane at 6:30 to get to phoenix by 8 to catch
another flight at 10 to get to new Orleans around 4:30... makes me wonder how they can
call it "convenience pricing". I can see the pilot now getting up at 3 in the
morning cursing me... "Who in the right mind would be flying this early in the
morning" anyone got a dollar for that insurance machine... gotta be better odds then
lotto.
Well don't want to spend all my time talking about getting ready for the trip...
Management around here actually expects some work out of me before I leave on vacation.
they have no heart.
Are you sure you can't feed them to the gator's?
Report 2 - Wednesday, 23 June 1999
okay then.... 8:30 in the morning and only 16 hours before I got to be at the airport....
Seems P.C. support figured out that Network problem.. phone isn't ringing off the hook...
that reminds me, (editor's note: There is allot of reminding going on in this report, you
are here by notified, we mention it now and ask that you remember this as you will not be
reminded later.. although there is a lot reminding occurring, none of it will relate to
this pre-reminder of the reminders coming up) I must leave a new voice message expelling I
am in the south pacific somewhere entertaining lava lava girls and might return next week
depending on whether another volcano erupts and wipes that place out too. Maybe that is
where we made the mistake... does anyone know if the class of 91 made their sacrifice to
the Mt. Pinatubo god or not... you know this could all be their fault. I say we gather
them all up and we.. and then .. and .. ah never mind.... if you can't feed management to
the gators then what I have in mind for the class of 91 isn't allowed either.
back to the task at hand.. time to take another look at my check list... lets see.... ear
plugs (Attila can scream her lungs out now as far as I am concerned)... a fresh six pack
of slim fast (I suppose it's never really to late to start) wonder if I can lose thirty
pounds by tomorrow... "damn it''' I just dripped jelly onto the keyboard again... why
can't they make a jelly donut with a hole only on one end... what's the other hole for
anyway... jelly exhaust? got my mosquito spray. I heard about them mosquitoes
there in the
swamp... I ain't gonna get carried away by any of them... something called gator spray...
not really sure I want to figure out what that one is about... brochures, maps,
itinerary... okay... looks like I am set.
what about the cat you ask.. well after 4 hours of quality time together (and half a box
of Band-Aids) she now knows where her food is kept... although she seems to have some
difficulty pouring it into her bowl she should be fine... I had to give up on the can
opener though. She just doesn't seem to grasp the concept so it's dry food for 4 days.
Dry. hmmm reminds me (Editor's note:.. no wait... we already warned you).. gotta make sure
I leave the lid up on the toilet again so she has something to drink...
mmmm cinnamon buns....
which reminds me (Editors note: Told you so), well not the cinnamon bun reminds me I mean.
It's the soda I'm drinking you can't see. Have you ever seen those cans of soda they give
you on the plane... what is that all about.. c'mon 6 oz cans.. what are they afraid of,
you might not be able to finish the whole twelve ounce can on your own... have to call in
a stunt drinker to finish it.. are worse yet, maybe have enough to actually share with
someone...... then again maybe it's a union thing... harder to hurt yourself lifting 6
oz's then 12... but you know what... with a full twelve ounce can I figured a good way to
shut up "Attila the Lung". ah then you would have 5 hours of the mother
screaming... best just stick with the ear plugs. Hey, I want to thank all of you who
sent me those dollars for the insurance machine... I was joking about it but since
you did anyway I went ahead and bought as much as I could. Which reminds me (Editors note:
hey you where warned) since you all sent them anonymously I didn't know who to make the
benefactors so if I die in a fiery ball of flames, the cat is going to live a better life
style then I ever had. You know since I did that the cat has been looking at me really
weird like.. do you think she might know? can a hair ball bring a plane down?
Report number 3 - Wednesday, 23 June
1999 - the night before New Orleans '99
okay... just enough time to report in on things before I go to bed...
as usual I did forget something, I totally forgot that I had to wash the cloths before I
could pack them. so if you see me and I look like I wore my cloths to bed... well you
could possibly be more right then you think... but lets keep that between me and you...
Now they said bring memorabilia... well I tried to find some, and the only thing I still
have from my high school days I am so sad to report is that little packet-o-protection I
carried in my wallet that dad gave me on my sixteenth birthday over my first beer (well in
his eye's anyway.. let's hear it for Port Orient)). I did get to pull out every now and
then and marvel at, never did get to use it.... But wait this is my old high school
reunion.. maybe I still have a chance... just what is the lubricant and the ribs for
anyway? Mannnnn (grinning evilly) I can't wait to fill it with water and finally splash
someone with it. Dad sure knew how to have fun...
okay... now we're done... let's check in the chat room... who's there... hello.. anyone
here... lots of names but no one is talking.... someone wake john up I smell smoke ... I
think his p.c. is on fire again... hello... ahhh... they must all be packing too.. I can
take a hint... well that is it for today.. next report from sunny San Antonio... San
Antonio? AGGGGHHHHHHHHHH, I really gotta go now, need to call the travel agent.. she
should still be up at 10.... I hope.....
Report 4 - Thursday, oh dark thirty
Somewhere in the wee a.m.
AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
RUNNING LATE!!! RUNNING LATE!!!
New Orleans '99 - Summary
Well I had many things to report when I got to my room. However once I discovered it
was going to cost 3 dollars a minute I decided the report would have to wait until I got
back to send it…
Hope you like reading
Thursday…
5:20 am
Live from the Sacramento airport or as alive as possible
after three cups of airport coffee. Which by the way once I was wide enough awake to
realize what I had spent on them, wiped out half of my reunion money… is it safe to
drink the water in New Orleans? Now as I look around the lounge I wonder who else might be
going to the reunion besides me. Only I can't tell… I think we should come up with
some simple ideal like a reunion ribbon that we could wear on our way to it so other's can
identify one other and share the travels together as well.
8:30
First stop Phoenix… I thought I was safe with my preparation for Attila
the Lung.
However there was another class of traveler I had forgotten completely about. Needless to
say I was not prepared for him “Homoerectus Noxios-aromous” or for the purposes
of my report we will call him “Freddie the Flatulator”. In away Freddie reminded
me a lot of my father. Dad's two favorite things in life were his beer and an obsession
for the game of pull my finger. However Freddie seemed to enjoy both very much, capable of
doing both activities at once. I was quick to reach for the overhead council to adjust the
air when I noticed this small label that read “Your cushion can be used as a
floatation device.” Just as I finished reading this Freddie rips loose with a whopper
that caused the air masks to fall from the overhead panel. As I was putting the mask on I
couldn't help but think... that just in the case of a water landing (airplane speak for,
“WE ARE GOING TO CRASH INTO THE OCEAN!”) I would rather drown and die a
dignified death then to be pulled from the water hours later clinging to Freddie's
cushion.
Finally on the ground and fresh air.
My first impressions of phoenix was “ah big deal” but I was soon to discover
that phoenix had some... well, let's use the word “unique” as a kind word.
Phoenix had some unique people. After arriving I had to trek across the concourse to the
other gates to catch my connection. After checking in and waiting for the plane, I am
startled by this mad looking woman waving this banner all over the place and squeezing on
this rubber duck making all of these quacking noises. I wonder how and where security is
when you need it anyway. Besides, I thought someone said they were going to meet me here
anyways. And you guessed it, with everyone watching duck woman yells my name out and with
a timid hand I tried to wave her over hoping no one noticed me. It turns out she was not
as “unique” as I thought. I underestimated her sanity altogether. First thing
she suggests is we should go for coffee that she was dying for a large one. “Okay,
makes sense to me I thought”. So we hunt down a “Java Java” stand where she
orders a large decaf… not let me ask you, what is the point of coffee without the
caffeine? And I m thinking to myself, Just what the hell can you crave in coffee if it
wasn't the caffeine? After we get it, she suggests we go up to the roof and check out the
hills. “There famous she says, Interesting she says” Pretty ordinary looking I'm
thinking, like any other hill, I'm thinking. But I am quiet. After all she had already hit
me twice in the head at this point with the banner over my coffee remarks. We head back to
the lounge to continue our little love fest. Conversation is typical, what year are you?
Are you married? How many times? And so on, and so on. Then it comes down to pictures. I
whip out the pics I have of the kids. She grabs her pics from her purse “I carry this
all the time” she remarks. Now I am thinking I am about to see pictures of her kids,
but no, remember she's “unique”. Instead they are pictures of her cups and
dishes. She is showing me pictures of her tableware. You know though, they are pretty blue
ones mind you with little geisha girls on them confirming my suspicion about her sanity
even more
Truthfully ducky, it was nice meeting you. And thank you for coming out to meet me like
you did.
Special note to you guys. Duckie has a thing for guys with longhair. Had I more time I may
have tempted her with my packet-o-protection.
Fast Forward…
Okay here I am in New Orleans… what the hell is wrong with the air here? Agghhhh,
Jesus this reminds me of the first day I arrived in the Philippines. But no fear, I got a
room with air conditioning. Just got to call the hotel and have them come and get me. With
directions from the hotel I head over to where the van is suppose to meet me in 20
minutes. Ten minutes go by, twenty minutes go by. Thirty minutes go by. Well by this point
at least fifty vans must have come and gone and only one other person was still standing
there who happened to be waiting for the same bus. Steve(87) had already been there for 40
minutes. After some introductions and the same-o-same-o we called the hotel again and
asked about the van. The nice lady on the other end said “you been waiting how
long?” she asks. “Well, it's going to be about 20 minutes the van is still
sitting out front and has not left yet.” Well if this isn't off to a good start I
thought. So… long story short. Bus arrives, we get to hotel, we check in. and it
‘s off to our rooms.
Friday…
Okay you are going to have to forgive me here. I knew the day was supposed to be a kind of
check in and gather on the 16th floor. But I was never good at sitting around in one place
for too long so I opted to skip this event and head down to the French quarter. Especially
after I discovered that the caterer had got the days mixed up and because of this there
was going to be no food since she had made it the day before. Most have graduated from
Dewey I thought. Which as it turned out was pretty much okay anyway, everyone seemed to be
running late anyway.
The French quarter was nothing like you have ever seen unless you had lived in the
Philippines. I could not help but notice the similarities. Palm trees blowing in the wind.
Banana bushes growing in the parks. The streets skinny and narrow and sex for sale on just
about every corner. And if not sex, there are five bars competing for your money. During
the day it was like stepping outside Friendship gate only without the jeepnies. At night
it was like crossing the bridge from Subic into Alongapo. It was a blast. The French
quarter has a ton of history that the city does not try to force it down your throat with
gaudy signs and over commercialism. In fact quit opposite. Each historic site I came
across had a simple bronze plague on the wall outside the building, describing what it was
you were looking at.
On a side note, the French quarter has a special additional 2% tax rate for a tax rate of
almost 10%. So if you have allot of souvenir shopping to do you may want to look outside
the French quarter on the side streets. And happy hour is from 4 to 7 with a 3 for 1 drink
special.
Fast forward…
Back at the hotel it was time for the BBQ in the bayou. As usual as with everything else
in my life I arrive late. Boy was this a mistake, as I looked around all the seats at the
tables where I knew anyone were already taken. That's fine, I thought. I will just get in
the buffet line and see what happens. As I am stirring the hot links I noticed these two
guys pointing at me from across the room. I can't tell if they are laughing at me or
trying to figure out who I am. From this distance I can't tell if I know them are not. So
plate in hand, camera on shoulder, ego in defensive mode as I start to move towards them.
Then it dawns on me. Add a little more hair, well a lot more hair. It was all gone now, it
was Darrel Lindsey(84) I knew him. We had many classes together but better times against
each other on the football field or the school dances that he use to DJ at.
I can not really report for the other classes, let's face
it; I was here to meet people from my era and my class. Here is a word of warning. Don't
forget that it has been 15 years since you last seen each other. Don't be offended just
because you can remember their name and all they can do is look at you with a glazed over
look on their face suggesting the have no ideal who you are. After all it could be the
years or as I soon was to discover the alcohol staring back at you. The night ended early
with half of the group heading down to the French quarter, half of them heading to their
rooms and the other half heading to the pool… wait half, half and half... uh, look I
graduated Wagner okay. As for me, I was off to bed. I never learned to swim and I never
learned to drink. Considering Murphy's law this means I am going to die by being run off
the road into a river by a drunk driver, where I will drown to death, cursing myself for
not having Freddie's cushion with me.
Saturday…
This was a do-as-you-want day with the big banquet that night. With camera in hand and
gathering some other alumni who wanted to go, we headed on down to the French quarter once
again with getting to see the river in mind. We ran into a slight problem? Who the hell
ordered all this rain? And with the rain, went just about everyone who was going to go
with me. Wimps I thought to myself. They act like the never seen tropical weather before.
Sheesh it was just like high school again. So basically I spent the day roaming the
streets of New Orleans in the middle of a thunderstorm trying to find a Harley Davidson
shop to pick up some souvenirs for the family back home. Look you buy your souvenirs where
you want I'll get mine where I want.
Fast Forward…
Soaked to the bone. No souvenirs to speak of I return to the hotel, I did get some good
pictures of the area though. And as you guessed I am late again. So I run upstairs for a
shower and change of clothes and I hurry down to the ballroom. Things are already jumping.
The band was playing Flock of Seagulls when I came. It was difficult to recognize the song
at first but it finally came to me. Then I thought, “HEY, why did we pay for a band
if we had Darrel at the event anyway. We all danced to his music at the time”, oh
well. As I had hoped, not everyone opted to go formal, this way I was not the only one
sticking out like a sore thumb. One thing I noticed is you woman like to dress up. But
here is where I had a problem. I noticed a lot of wives were left to sit by themselves at
the dinner tables while the guys ran off to do their thing with their old high school
buds. Now is it, the husbands’ who drug you along to show you off like trophies or
did you insist on coming along in case that old girlfriend of his who is still single
might show up? I didn't want to ask. This was another funny thing I noticed. Most of the
old-timers (those prior to the great 80’s) set around the same tables mocking the
great music that influenced our school years. It was obvious they didn't like it. However,
they did have something to teach the rest of us who paid attention them. They had brought
their own liquor to the ball by the bottle rather then pay the high price the cash bar was
asking. Obviously a tactic learned a long time ago by these reunion veterans.
The night was a blast. The food was great. The music was loud. It was great seeing old
friends. Woody from what I saw did a great job at putting it together and I want to thank
her very much for going out of her way as much as she must have to make sure something of
this size and caliber was as successful as it was. Thanks woody.
On a final note: if your hotel offers free shuttles to and from the airport, make sure of
the hours of availability. As I soon discovered when making arrangements to be taken to
the airport the shuttle did not begin running until 30 minutes after my plane left. Had I
known the hours I could have planned my tickets a little better.
Well that's about it. I will post pictures online within the next 2 weeks including
duckie's famous hill. I'm off to L.A. for the 4th so I won't be able to do it over the
weekend. You are all welcome to visit them on the class of 84 pages, unless john also
links to them.
For those of you I talked to about sending stuff in for the 84 pages Cindy, Darryl,
Rainier, and you know who. You can e-mail me at jimmyp@sputtertoad.com
or visit the 84 pages at http://www.whoa.org/84/pasch
which is on the WHOA website
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