Traveling Laughs

Now these would make a fun trip!

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 18:37:00 +0000

Me? I'm going for the music package.

Roadtrip Ruminations

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 01:23:00 +0000

The last few weeks the gift of a book tour offered me the opportunity to explore a bit o' the Midwest, up close and personal. When possible, I drove back roads. I traveled light (relatively speaking), enjoyed tossing random items in and out of my car, met friendly new people, wore my seatbelt like a good little citizen, and, when possible, sought out the local diner.

[POINT OF REFERENCE: in my book, "local diner" includes Waffle House. File that where you will.]

Two days ago I boarded an airplane for vacation. Let me rephrase. Two days ago, I schlepped, bounced and careened my body and stuff down a narrow aisle until I reached my middle seat, whereupon I set about wedging all the aforementioned into my miniscule allocated areas. I wore my seatbelt like a good lttle citizen, and, when possble, tried to rearrange my arms without breaking a seatmate's ribs.

These combined recent adventures brought a few random traveling observations to my attention. I find myself talking about them, dwelling on them and wondering what on earth we will come up with next. (Somebody smack me.)

--A SURPRISE encounter that falls under the heading, SAY WHAT?!

I'll preface by saying (admitting, confessing?) that I don't drink coffee. Never have. Don't like the stuff. Sit next to me on an airplane with garlic breath and I won't mind. I like garlic. I will, in fact, suddenly crave spaghetti. But sit next to me with coffee breath and I shall spend the next several hours breathing through my mouth so I don't have to smell your blaaaachy coffee.
I drink tea. Hot, cold, spicy, loose-leaf, latted... No sugar. I drink iced tea all year round. Lots of it. So imagine my surprise (and annoyance) when a gal in a cute little coffee shop in Oconomowoc Wisconsin told me iced tea season was over. "Do you sell iced coffee all winter?" Yes, they did.

I tried to explain that tea is IN now and that tea shops are springing up all over the place, incuding this kiosk-y one at O'Hare airport. Even tea accessories are on the rise. Tea is GOOD for you, I said. They didn't care, nor did they offer to steep hot tea and give me a glass of ice--which apparently is out of season there too.
Ya know, try telling a beer drinker that cold beer is out of season, especially in WISCONSIN! HEL-LO!
--This next observation arrived in a great little diner in Albuquerque New Mexico: two nongender (well, gender neutral--you know what I mean) bathrooms. It's not that I haven't seen gender neutral potties before, and when I have I always think SO SMART! But the sign on this particular door caught my attention. Check it out.

When I exited, a gentleman waiting on the waiting bench just outside the doors (handy) nearly knocked me over getting into my vacated room--even though the other restroom was available. And even though I knew better, my initial kneejerk and instinctive reaction was that I'd entered the wrong sex bathroom. We don't have gender neutral bathrooms in my hometown suburb, so this "we go both ways" thing is still new to me. But I rechecked both signs, and nope, I was good to go. (Actually, I'd already gone, but again, you know what I mean.) However, after studying the details, I discovered the other restroom did not proclaim the "urinal included" on its sign. Which made me wonder: was that guy a severe creature of habit too, i.e. "Where resideth the urinal, so I must goeth"?

--In a family restaurant in Woodstock Illinois, the bread basket set me to pondering. (I notice Panera's is doing this same quirky "thing" with the cookies and muffins.) When the waitress brought the bread basket to the table, rather than arriving wafting of yeast and yummy, a mound of individually prepackaged items showed up. Now, I get the sensibilities of such packaging, especially during flu season. But this is simply not inviting. It looks more like hospital food.

When I travel, there's a reason I seek out the good old diners, family-owned cafes and independent coffee shops. They radiate "Belly up, sojourner. Come sit a spell, wet your whistle and break bread with us." But seriously, when local fare boils down to "Come sit (or stand at the urinal if you choose the room on the left), wet your whistle on our terms only, and break open the cellophane on our bread," something is lost in translation.

Bathroom Turbulence

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 16:58:00 +0000

Since the methodology of Accomplishing Your Business in public restrooms is ever changing, one never knows what to expect.

Back in the good old days, the obvious was.

Reach for your share of a small roll of toilet paper.
Flush toilet to flush it.
Turn faucet to start water.
Turn faucet to stop water.
Pull cotton roll or paper towels to dry hands.
Or, push button on hand dryer and spend next five minutes trying to dry hands.
If used paper, toss paper towel in giant and obvious waste paper basket.
Open bathroom door with (OH MY! We DIDN'T!) bare hands to exit, which, if you were forced to use the dryer, were still wet because the air dryer puffed (barely) cold air.
Done.

Then things, they fluxxed and changed in a hurry. Before we knew it, new (new, new!) procedures started going something like this:

Attempt to enter stall and turn around since toilet paper roll is as big as a small child, waste basket takes up space, door swings in (Duh!), suitcase can't fit between you and toilet and door you're trying to close ...
Toilet flushes.
Squat and toilet flushes.
Reach for toilet paper and toilet flushes.
Do your business—and toilet does not flush.
Engage in calisthenics in stall until toilet flushes or you hear your flight number boarding.
Put hands under spout to start water (or not).
Water turns off before you're done singing Happy Birthday five times.
Put hands under spout to start water again (or not).
Wildly wave hands in front of electronic "eye," which does not dispense paper towel.
Discern there is no "eye" in this towel dispenser so try to look casual as you push the button, like you knew it was there all along and were previously trying to flag a fly out of your face.
Open bathroom door with paper towel (H1N1!!!!!!!!!!!) and toss towel …
Stuff damp towel in your pocket because waste basket is not near enough.
Done. Sort of.

But just when I thought I had every option in the system down pat (well, you know what I mean), during a recent trip to Denver, things switched up again when I found myself in the nongender (wow!) restroom at the Rioja Restaurant! (A short review of yummy restaurant follows this post.)

When I got to the dry-your-hands part, I discovered the Dyson Airblade. (ACTION video link) With the Dyson Airblade (scary name, no?), one dips ones hands down into the BLASTING AIR, or "blade." (See Rioja directions in top photo.) Sha-ZAM! Your hands are dried.

I don't wear acrylic nails, but I'm wondering if they could endure such a swift and complete BLAST without taking flight! If you want to dry your hair, you're out of luck--unless your head is unusually small. And if you could fit your head down into the "blade," I'm guessing it would blow your eyes out of their sockets, and maybe an ear or two off your head.

The whole experience was so exciting and efficient that I returned to the table and told my tablemates they simply must check it out, which they did.

What next? A bidet (first two link definitions will crack you up, and I am, BTW, talking about #1-hahahaha!) that does it all? If Dyson takes to this idea, HANG ON TO YOUR PARTS!

--------------------

Charlene short review of the Rioja: LOVED IT!

The Rioja Picnic appetizer (above) is worth the trip.

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do (right?)

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 21:54:00 +0000

Yesterday I received an email from Hilton HHonors. The opening line: “We’ve missed you!”

"Aw, gee. I kinda miss you too," I said out loud, "don't I?"

They were writing to let me know that it’s been nine months since they noticed any activity on my account. (Okay, so they did not say they missed my cutesy-pie face, or my natural beauty mark on my right cheek, or the sound of my perky voice, but I’ll take it.) In fact, they were so personally and tenderly sad about my absence that they took time out of their busy day to remind me of our long history together. “Remember, to keep your account active, you must earn HHonors points at least once every 12 months. Otherwise, your membership may be cancelled and all of your points forfeited.”

So, if I am unable “to be one with them" some time during the next three months, our entire history together--including my previous decades of brand loyalty--will be erased. Gheesh. Kinda reminds me of a traumatic high school breakup.

But still, Hilton HHonors loves me more than United Airlines because at least Hilton HHonors took the time to warn me I’ll lose my points (not brownie points, but points I earned by spending money with them) if I don’t activate. United? When I got within a couple months of losing all my points, they gave me the silent treatment: they stopped sending me statements, which is even worse than a text message break up. Next thing I knew, my nearly 40,000 points were simply gone, as was my desire to ever “be one with them” again.

The truth is, even though Hilton HHonors is, at the very least, threatening to break up with me, I do still like and miss them. Comfortable beds. Reliably clean and consistent. Easy-to-use alarm clocks. In the case of Hampton Inns, cutesy pictures near the room doors and in the elevators to help me find my weary way back to where I belong.... In fact, I was recently so lonesome for them that while making travel arrangements, I instinctively clicked on the familiar face of their website. However, after checking a few prices, I discovered that brand loyalty would cost me twenty to forty bucks more per night over the Holiday Inn Express, so I two-timed and booked with them. I must say, the Holiday Inn Express' free breakfast made me think twice about bragging on the free breakfast at the Hampton Inn. Plus, I chalked up some Priority Club points with the Holiday Inn Express stay, including 1000 extra points for staying two nights and skipping full service for my room! (Call me a point hussy if you must.)

I’m gearing up to book two more stays for an upcoming trip. Of course I don’t wish to intentionally break up with Hilton HHonors, or to have them erase me from their memory. But seriously, if I have to spend more money to date them, to keep my relationship going with them, how am I ultimately coming out ahead just by racking up points—which can disappear due to my lack of travel plans?

Hilton HHonors did tell me this in their not-quite-dumping me email: one of the ways I can keep our relationship hot and steamy is to purchase a resort condo with Hilton Grand Vacations. Within the next three months.

You know, if I could afford to do that, I wouldn’t be writing about trying to save twenty bucks. I guess all relationships are relative to what matters most. Right now, it’s my pocketbook.

Don't Miss Your Life!

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 15:38:00 +0000

I'm taking a moment here to publicly celebrate the publication of my 13th book: Don't Miss Your Life!: An Uncommon Guide to Living with Freedom, Laughter and Grace. I am grateful, ecstatic, excited and hopeful the book will find its way into the hands of those who most need a boost, an encouragement and a laugh. Early reader feedback is FIVE STAR! (Click on above link to the Amazon site to see for yourself.)

An excerpt from the Publisher's Weekly review said readers are, "... treated to poignant essays on the power of imagination, the importance of questioning assumptions, awakening every sense, living in a balanced way or falling with a splat. Baumbich’s text is just what the doctor ordered for a time such as this; laughter is good medicine indeed and there are plenty of guffaws to be found on every page.

Yesterday I learned that Don't Miss Your Life! hit #5 on the Chicagoland Indie Bestseller list for trade paperback nonfiction for the week ending June 7--and it just released June 2!

So, if you're looking for the three Ls in a good travel book (light-weight [as in weighs little], laughter laden, lifting to the spirit) for your next trip, pick up a copy. Even though the cover features ladies legs and twirly skirts, Publisher's Weekly also pointed out, "The author’s comic rehashing of life’s more ironic and bizarre happenings will be valued by readers of both genders."

YAY!

To learn more about my writing and speaking, visit my website.

Expect the unexpected

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 15:08:00 +0000

This I know to be true about travel: one must expect the unexpected. To "celebrate" this truthism, I herewith submit my "favorite" list of things to unexpect when traveling:

sleep (how to "make" it happen?)
favorable conditions (both with your body and travel schedules)
no road work (is there a reason the roads can't be as indestructible as black boxes?)
removal of tolls (I live in Illinois. Hear my prayer.)
easy segues from one side of a security checkpoint to the next (honestly, if it's not the person in front of me causing the problem, it's me!)
weather that does not impede plans (why don't I just bang my had against the wall?)
short lines for anything (especially restrooms)
toilet paper holders in restrooms smaller than a grocery cart (can they put them higher up the wall so they're not causing us to sit sidesaddle?!)
flushing only when you want flushing (showers where you do not want showers)
pricing stability (for better or for worse)
short productive meetings (sometimes I'll take either)
favorable salt-in-the-food conditions (I hate it when I blow up like a puffer fish)
happy seatmates (I'm sure I've failed at being one)
sanity (defined as ... ???)

But sometimes, we do get what we hope for, but do not necessarily "expect." It's always the little things that mean the most:

a sympathetic, patient, determined ticket agent (YAY!)
a heart-warming and just right bowl of soup with warm bread (Mmmm)
toilet paper (thank goodness)
a magazine that lasts the whole flight (with publishing the way it is, this is a miracle!)
a roadside cafe where you are sincerely welcomed when you walk in the door (bless you)
a just right mattress (my heart beats for Goldilocks)
an air conditioner that doesn't bang when it turns on and off (HAL-LE-LU-JAH!)
a boiled egg in the midst of donuts (protein!)
finding the thing you fret you forgot to pack (celebration!)
fresh brewed iced tea (it's good to be awake when speaking in front of an audience)
an abundance of smiling faces (there is power in a smile)
the perfect hot dog or veggie sandwich (perfect, as in, tasty, available and fast)
a surprise encounter with someone you know (grace)
the determination to make the best of each circumstance (grit)

When I truthfully examine each item on any of my traveling lists, above all, the determination to make the best of each circumstance is The Most Important--which is why I travel with a wad of toilet paper in my handbag. Just in case.

Here We Go 'Round the Roaming Ring (or doesn't ring)

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Tue, 19 May 2009 21:44:00 +0000

Old story, new twist. And it just keeps getting twistier: how to stay connected to the world when one travels, or one lives in a remote area? I'd appreciate it if you would weigh in with your opinions. A decision must be made.

--I am at The Farm where I come "hide" to write. We rent this place all year long, and I come and go.

--I've been a Verizon wireless cell phone user since they were Ameritech, which not even my spellcheck remembers. I stay with Verizon because their customer service rocks and I can always get and keep a connection, even when fellow travelers using other wireless companies cannot.

--I should have written that last item in past tense, as in, "used to could." The Verizon commercials showing all those kinda creepy stalking "network" folks currently sends me BALLISTIC! In my cannot-stay-connected state, I can only imagine that that severely nosy herd of people is standing on--and therefore compressing and ruining--whatever used to make my connection WORK!

--Lots of people, as in many, have told me, "Beware of Sprint!"

--The only options I have here for Internet are: dial-up (currently using HBCI); driving 6 miles to town to a free Wi-Fi zone; broadband card; satellite ($$$); or a private guy who charges spendy fees plus an expensive equipment buy-in, and who will not buy equipment back should we decide to stop renting here.

--Verizon said, "Pay us $30 extra/month and use your Blackberry Storm as a modem!" Interesting how well that worked at home in IL but not here, where my signal switches (hyperactively flips and flops) between EVDO and 1X and dropped and no service at all--same as with my voice usage.

--I am on Verizon "roaming" when here at The Farm (a-HAH!). Here, Verizon partners with Alltel, who earlier today told me to my face that they're currently using (as in switched over to) a Sprint tower (say what?) until Verizon takes them (Alltel) over within the next few months. Supposedly Verizon is "doing something." As of 9/1, this Alltel store will be a Verizon store (Alltel customers have been notified), but ... will the towers all hopefully be upgraded, or steadied, or redirected, or get over their menopause, or be on Ritalin by then?

--Over the past several months, I have put in three tickets with Verizon to have them figure out why I cannot stay connected via CELL PHONE here, to which they respond--and I am reading this directly from one of the three identical ticket responses they've sent me--"(Verizon) trouble ticket NRB etc. has come back as a marginal coverage area." When I say I cannot stay connected, I mean sometimes for hours at a time I have no service at all. Or one bar (never more than 2) and/or tons of dropped calls. Or supposedly 2 bars but my phone doesn't ring and 5 hours later I find out I have a message. Or, a good connection with no troubles.

--This "marginal coverage area" didn't used to be that, at least in terms of consistent service, so ... what happened? I assured Verizon that I did not move the house, so why did I used to (at least five years' worth) happily live without this misery? Alltel "roaming" issues? Sprint tower "roaming" troubles? A bad Verizon marriage with renegade roamers?

Since it is YOU I pay, Verizon, it is from you I expect intelligent answers. How did I recently and mysteriously become "marginalized" in a location you are soon taking over, which means I shall no longer be roaming? (Then, *228 will hopefully actually WORK, which your tech support has recommended to me several times, but which does not work in your ROAMING areas!) But does that mean that in the end, I will, or will not, still be marginalized?

--A couple weeks ago, Sprint offered a two-day deal: free broadband card, no activation fee, 30-day trial, pro-rated on a month-long fee ($60 per month). After which a 2-year contract locks in.

Can you say, desperate? Despite the warnings, why not try it?

--I spent nearly FOUR HOURS in the Sprint store while they worked to get my laptop operating with the software for their free high-speed broadband card. Which they never did figure out. So they gave me the upgraded card for free. (Do you SEE the good customer service in the free upgrade, and the irony in four hours for high-speed?) Nonetheless, the end result is that they prevailed (YAY!) and the USB card immediately finds and holds a "CDMA EVDO REV A" connection like nobody's business! It works best when I use the tether, as seen in the photo, rather than plugging it straight into the port. It has not operated at less than 40%, most often is 60%+ and sometimes 100% of that CDMA EVDO REV A. Compared to dial-up, it is greased lightening. I am ecstatic! So, I got that high-speed Internet connection going.

But what about my cell? And ...

-- Since my Sprint 30-day broadband card test period is winding down, I wonder:

once Verizon kicks in here, might they totally get their act together, and for $30/month rather than Sprint's $60, will my Blackberry Storm actually work well as a modem?
Or, might Verizon's presence change "something" about the towers that causes the Sprint card to not work as well, i.e. might the FCC ding Sprint or Verizon over those fair trade "issues?"
Verizon told me they don't have control over tower things (it's in the hands of the FCC, they say, so no promises), so assuredly, Sprint has no control either. But when will I know For Sure?

--Verizon is taking over Alltel here in "3rd quarter," (July?) but cannot (or won't?) guarantee anything will get better here due to that "marginalized" status, which Sprint did not use as an excuse since they've come in with new 3G service. However, Alltel store guys (soon to be Verizon employees) tell me the service will absolutely positively assuredly get better once they are Verizon.

So, NOW WHAT?!

Do I return the Sprint card in order to keep from locking in a 2-year contract, banking that Verizon does get their act together?
Do I keep the Sprint card anyway, and then have 2 options for calls: Verizon cell phone or Sprint broadband using Skype?
If I keep both, I could (and financially would have to) rid myself of the Qwest land line, Qwest, who has--YIKES!--partnered with Verizon Wireless! And obviously, no land line, no dial-up as back-up. If I don't need it, who cares? But I'm just sayin' ...
However, is it possible that the FCC could cause both Sprint and Verizon to let me down? I wouldn't think so, but then I never thought Verizon or their current roaming partner, which is either Alltel or Sprint or "marginal" inducing aliens, would annihilate my ability to stay connected either.

HELP! Opinions, please? I'd especially appreciate your opinion if you are one of those bazillion Verizon network guys supposedly following everybody around but me.

Readers, I'd appreciate if you'd use the COMMENTS section of this blog to weigh in rather than email me. That way, we can comment on each other's comments too. Hey, pretty soon, we, too, might create our OWN "network" of stalking people and therefore rule the world.

Still my dog.

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Thu, 14 May 2009 20:30:00 +0000

Still my dog.
Originally uploaded by twinklechar

Some days, the best traveling companion is the one who doesn't complain, and who loves you just the way you are.

Kornflake is ready to hit the road at the drop of the word "ride?" He travels light, settles in well and occasionally sniffs my ear. He is kind, interested and loves the drive-through windows that hand him a treat too.

All hail the tail-wagging traveling doggies of the world!

Brain Trippin'

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Thu, 07 May 2009 14:58:00 +0000

Since for a few weeks I've been sequestered in MN to write (and still a couple more weeks to come), the most traveling I've indulged is local. Still, in my mind, I am often "gone." Hanging out "over there," which is anywhere but at my keyboard.

Since I write fiction, the ability to mentally transition to "over there" is a good thing. But sometimes, my mind zings right through the back door of my fictional town and takes flight.

For instance, as I type, I sit in a coffee shop in this here college town, occasionally raising my head to look out the window. I watch in amazement as cars, pedestrians and bicyclists flash by. So many people on the move. So many real and muse driven stories whirring into the cosmos with each step and turn.

Curiosity begs I study the five women at the table across from me who just burst into laughter. I imagine the dreams tucked deep inside, their friendships (jealousies, betrayals, distortions, heartaches, secrets), adventures and travels.

When I log into my Facebook account (“Writer at work. Please interrupt.”), I take special notice of those who are packing, leaving, returning, sightseeing, working a trade show, vacationing or rendering a teary farewell to visiting friends and relatives. "Traveling mercies," I whisper, recalling tired hours in airports, frustrating seatmates, disturbing noises in the hotel room next to mine.

But just like that, I also long for the days when I deplaned in a far-away place and soon spotted an exotic new restaurant. Or thanked the bell hop who carried my bags to my room. Or chatted with the most interesting people sitting next to me on the trolley in Amsterdam.

Yes, so many stories whirring into the cosmos with each step and turn.

For now, 'tis mine to be happy where I'm planted. It's enough--and it's exciting--to be able to take that mind's ride to the foreign and familiar places my fictional characters lead me. And I shall do that, right after one more study of those five women. One more look out the window at all those people going all those places.

Right after one more evaluation of why the grass is always greener on the other side of my day-trippin' mind.

Traveling Vanities

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 14:48:00 +0000

After I wrote about my two Kipling bags, I merrily packed them, tossed them in my car and headed to The Farm for a long writing encampment. YAY! But once I got here, I had to carry my largest bag up 20 steps. That was up, in case you missed it.

The gasping incident got me to thinking about something I said (hear the happy chirp in my voice?), which was that I can always stuff one more thing into those bags. However, is that the Good News or the Bad News? Today, my back tells me it's the latter.

Let's consider the pros and cons of all expandable bags.

GOOD NEWS:

can accommodate vacation souvenirs
one more book fits down the edge
one more rolled pair of jeans tucks into a corner
one more anything, really, always fits

BAD NEWS:

one more anything always fits

And still, for this trip, even though I continuously added one more item to my ab-fab bag, I forgot to bring a few necessary items with me. Yet, I also stuffed in several more items than I need. That's the way it is with me and packing and expandable bags. When I'm off my carry-on only style packing, I'm often off my good sense.

The Good News is that when we forget something, we can almost always buy what we forgot and pack it in the expandable bag. Then hope we don't have to carry it up any stairs, or that it now doesn't fit in the overhead bin. (How often have you witnessed that?) The Bad News is that we can also saddle ourselves with exhaustion--especially if it's a multi-legged trip.

Let's consider a new point of view: finite space. If, when packing for a business trip, (fill-in-the-blank) doesn't fit and we choose not to swap it out for something else, we can usually make do without it for a trip. No shopping. Packing multi-purpose items is smart. A lipstick serves as a blush. We can dress up jeans with the right top, sports jacket and/or accessories. Toothpaste cleans my jewelry and plugs nail holes in walls. (I'm just saying ...) Socks and underwear can be washed, or, if desperate enough, worn again. I realize we have the euwwww factor there, but I'm talking desperate and efficient, not Hygiene 101.

And let's face it, when I get on an airplane or climb behind the wheel, I am dressed in at least one of everything I need to proclaim decency. If I forgot to pack a second whatever, it's not the end of the world. In cash-strapped times such as these, I ask: is "having to shop" to maintain appearances for one trip really necessary, or is it a vanity? Unless, of course, you're the best man at a wedding and wearing Bermuda shorts. Then again, no matter what anyone is wearing, vows can still be taken, right? Lifelong commitments don't depend upon decorum, no matter what the wedding photographer says. And in the world of business, contracts can still be signed, deals negotiated and widgets sold. To show up and admit your clothes don't match because you are human and forgot to pack something might even tip the scales in your favor. Honesty and humor don't take up any space in a suitcase, and they might even help seal the deal.

If I take myself to my own bottom line, the only thing I truly can't live without on any given trip is my medications. (Even when I once ran out of meds on an extended trip, Walgreen's bailed me out.)

I can already hear you saying, "But Charlene, what about phones and laptops?" Come on, people! They're all around us. Do I want to travel without them? No. But I could. My speaking notes? Can I talk for an hour without them? You betcha! Would I be coherent? Maybe. My winter coat during January? Can I not layer enough other stuff? Don't I usually just scurry from the airport to the hotel room to the venue anyway? Hey! I used to live on a farm. I can tough it out for a day or two, can't I? Sunscreen? Bet I could borrow some, or pay somebody for a squirt of theirs. Money? Got my credit cards.

So I ask you, what could you absolutely not do without? Or better yet, what could you leave behind that you always lug along, yet almost never use? Seriously, I'm asking.

As for me and my bags, I'm thinking expandable can be abused, and finite space can be tricky. But given the choice, I'd pick traveling lighter--and with someone who brings a giant expandable bag.

Bag Lady

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 14:51:00 +0000

My Class of '63 high school graduation gift from my parents was a set of luggage. My favorite piece: the cosmetic case--the item that, should I actually fly anywhere, stayed with me, making me feel utterly grown up. It was a beige, vinyl, hard-shell, double snap-lock rectangular case, complete with a "vanity mirror" built into the lid.

Although it hasn't traveled with me for nearly 40 years, it remains with me, serving as official Keeper of the G.I. Joe body parts (not a single soldier remains in tact, long ago blown to bits), hand gernades, and other miscellaneous weaponry and camo/combat clothing. My sons, now 44 and 38, occasionally take a look-see and relive an explosion or two.

Over time, I've worked my way through several more versions of what I imagined to be the perfect catch-all carry-on, until I used it/them. They've ranged the gambit of color (including polka dots), material, size and handiness--or not. I've tested wheels vs. no wheels. (For the record, one of my 2 carry-ons must have wheels. End of story.) The jumbo vs. how-small-can-you-live-with versions (the more regional jets we're forced to fly, the smaller the bag). Then there's the "pockets are a good thing"; why don't I ever look in the right pocket first?!

I never discard the older bags since one never knows which one might best serve an upcoming trip, or one day become a kind of morgue for sundry items. Sometimes I drag one out and think, "What was wrong with this?" By the time I'm home, I remember. Back in the corner it goes, waiting for the next time I forget.

But sometimes, that oldie bag serves just the right purpose for "such a trip as this." You know what I mean. While one journey requires three changes of clothing, the next only needs a clean pair of underwear. Some gigs need props, notebooks, laptop and an odd assortment of shoes, while the next works best with two pair of bluejeans and a bulky sweater. Different bags for different strokes.

But I have to admit that this red Kipling bag (comes in many colors) has been traveling with me for several years now, and it still looks like new. So far, I've had no desire to swap it out. I discovered Kipling bags in an airport during one of those loooong layovers. I bet I opened, closed, zipped, unzipped and pretended I was packing at least a dozen different sizes.

Some of my favorite things about this awesome Sherpa:

When empty, it weighs almost nothing.
When I'm not using it, it wads up for easy storage.
I can always manage to cram one more thing into it.
It's sort of waterproof.
The interior is beige, which makes it easy to explore. (I've sworn off black interiors, including in hand bags.)
The exterior pouch pockets hold just the right amount of stuff.
The long exterior zipper compartment offers all types of slots for all types of organizing of all types of little things.
The zippers and snaps are incredibly strong and easy to work.
It has both hand grips and a shoulder strap, the latter which I never use.
It easily rides on top of a wheeled bag, and in fact has a sleeve to slip over the handle of same--although the grip on the handle of my favorite Briggs and Riley wheelie (mine looks likes this, but doesn't have this type of handle, so I'm not sure ...) is too wide to fit through the sleeve, and that's the one I usually couple it with.
Thankfully, the thumb-sucking gorilla geegaw (for real) that comes with it is detachable.
Items can be rearranged within the bag so as to I'LL MAKE IT FIT! into some of the small stowaway compartments.

I own another of these Kipling bags, a big one. Again, I can always stuff one more thing into it, and it weighs nearly nothing when empty. When stuffed, I have to check it (although when not over packed, it can schmoosh into the overhead bin), but when I travel back and forth to The Farm, where I go hide to write (new website, so check it out), it's awesome! Socks in one end zipper compartment, undies on the other (easy to find), and everything else in either the exterior zipper compartment or the generous duffel.

I went a Googling so I could tell you exactly which model of that large bag I have. Although I couldn't find either on the actual Kipling site (could just be me), I did manage to locate the smaller one on ebags.com. Of course as with all things (wallets, bras, toilet paper ...), my favorites never seem to stick around long, so I was glad to find at least the Sherpa still going strong. (Check out the awful gorilla hanging on the left side in that ebag.com photo.)

While I was toodling around, looking at other Kipling bags, I heard myself think, "Oh, that new bag looks even more perfect!"

Charlene, DO NOT FALL FOR IT! Reread your own post. You have the perfect bag!

What about you? What's your favorite carry-on, get-the-job-done bag? Or, do you, too, have a gem of a retired oldie you're using for special storage? Please, let us know about it by posting your comment here, under--duh--COMMENTS!

A First-Class View

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 12:53:00 +0000

In real time, I'm in Chicagoland, staring out the window above the top of my monitor at today's gray sky. But in my mind, I'm in Amsterdam enjoying the exquisite panoramic view through the bathroom window in room 343 of the Hotel Okura.

It's interesting, the way some things lodge in our memories and spring to life on the grayest of days. Last October's business trip to Amsterdam was a grand one. But among my most alive memories is the glorious moment I first witnessed that view from the bathroom. Never mind I had the same view from the bedroom, but from the bathroom? Through those giant windows surrounding the over-the-sink mirrors? And from the throne? WOWIE!

Lest you think I'm gearing up for potty talk, nay. I'm done with it and moving on to a few other fine Hotel Okura details. As described on their website, the Hotel Okura Amsterdam is "An island of tranquillity in a city full of surprises."

Indeed.

To set a baseline for my review particulars, I am a budget traveler. My typical self-booked itineraries are filled with the likes of Hampton Inns (predictably clean and worthy), coach-class airfare and casual dining. I love Waffle Houses, hot dog stands and a good old greasy spoon breakfast. Sure, during my Dearest Dorothy book tours I was treated to many lavish and wonderful hotels (thank you, Penguin Books), but were I to "credential" myself on my life-long qualifications to review facilities the caliber of Hotel Okura, my title might be something like The Lame Gourmet and Budget Broad. Nonetheless, I know elegance when I experience it.

Marcel P. van Aelst, general manager, and Tamara Tong Sang, PR manager of the hotel, graced our group with a personal behind-the-scenes tour of the Hotel Okura's facilities, including The Suite, which is 5390 square feet and includes a private cinema. Oh, baby. That was something! If you have to ask how much a night, you can't afford it. But if you're one who doesn't have to ask, book it. You will not be disappointed. Our tour also took us through the Ciel Bleu kitchen mid-afternoon (doors not open yet), when chefs were fast at work. Who wouldn't want to eat at that Chef's Table, when again, you have that view?!

A couple more personal favorite highlights of Hotel Okura Amsterdam:

--Ciel Bleu Restaurant on the 23rd floor, the only restaurant in Amsterdam awarded with two Michelin stars. (Honestly, I'd never heard of that starry award before. But now, having eaten there, I get why--and it has nothing to do with tires and all to do with first class.) My rich dinner dining experience lasted for hours. I've never seen so many shapes of dishes; the courses just kept on coming. If you think you go the extra mile to prepare for dinner guests, study that picture. Yes, she is ironing the tablecloth.

MY VERDICT: Every tasty crumb and sauce smear was worth every euro I paid for it.

--Cocktails in the Twenty Third bar. Great, warm atmosphere. Comfortable. Kitschy. Whatever all is in that crunchy blend snack they serve, it kicks popcorn petoot!

THE VERDICT: I went back the second night of my stay, so obviously I enjoyed it.

--The lovely location along one of Amsterdam's tranquil canals (picture from in front of the hotel, not at the hotel), and the easy access to transportation just about anywhere.

THE VERDICT: If I ever get back to Amsterdam, count me in at the Hotel Okura for at least a night. I'm already saving my money for another dinner at the Ciel Bleu and once again daydreaming about Amsterdam, its loveliness--from just about any view imaginable.

Flying High and Grateful

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 20:29:00 +0000

The moment I laid eyes on this photo, I emitted a happy, deep, belly laugh. After a quick study, I cried a bucket of happy tears.

Of course not everyone had the same reaction. Some folks playfully queried the subject, who posted this self-portrait on his Flickr page, as to whether or not the "matter" on his face came from his nose. He explained that what froze to his face came "mostly from deep within the lungs."

Awesome.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Hear the swoosh. Picture the snowboarder whisking downhill, cutting right, then left. Up. Airborne. Soft landing.

Inhale. Exhale.

Energy. Beauty surrounding energy. Twinkling eyes taking it all in as it looms ahead, rushes by. Warm streams of well-spent exhilarating breath vaporizing in the high-altitude air, collecting as ever increasing evidence that this man travels fast, unbridled, unaware of anything but the freeing rush of his rocky mountain high-speed decent.

If you can't relate to my laughing/crying response to the icy-faced picture, perhaps you didn't look closely enough. Stare deep into his eyes, then allow your eyes to blur a bit, as if allowing those dotted pictures to sort themselves into an emerging 3-D image of ... you. See the happy look in your eyes when you stand knee-deep in a glorious ocean, or slice your water skis through warm lake water, hook a lunker musky, sink a twenty-foot put, ring the bell at the county fair, ace your test, catch that first glimpse of your loved one deplaning--or recognize the muse tapping you on the shoulder with the most playful and uncommon story.

Now.

Now can you recognize the look in the eyes of the shining face in the above picture that caused this mother to first laugh, then cry?

The utter look of satisfaction in his familiar, warm, brown, 44-year-old eyes serves as a testimony to this magnificent news: "YOUR SON FLEW TODAY! Your son, your wild child--your born-to-fly child--flew alive and well in his soul. Fast. Downhill. Free. Gathering life, and memories, and a photo opportunity birthed from deep within his precious lungs."

Inhale. Exhale.

Laugh. Cry.

Fly, baby, fly.

--------------------------------

With all the muck in the world, I hope this post serves as a reminder that unbridled joy still exists. I encourage you to find small pockets of it, capture it, and pass it on!

Photos used by permission of Bret Lee Haskins, the one and only.

IMPORTANT CORRECTION

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 20:30:00 +0000

Isn't this the way of All Things Cosmic? Shortly after I posted "Family Planning (no, not that kind)" I heard from Lisa Tawn Bergren, one of the founders of FamilyTripster.com. Due to the infiltration of some bad guys, their forms for submissions are presently out of commission. However, the site is fully operating and she's standing by, eager to hear from you, so ... I'll let Lisa tell you how you can submit.

"We'd love to hear about your family's travels! To submit a report and encourage others to travel in a multi-generational sort of way, just send a Word document to Lisa@familytripster.com, along with a few pictures that document the trip (please note: our form to submit is currently disconnected, so please submit it this way). You might end up on our front page for March's update!"

--Lisa Tawn Bergren, FamilyTripster.com

Family Planning (no, not that kind)

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 23:04:00 +0000

Back when my youngest son was a toddler (he's now 38, so we're truly talking "back when"), our little family of four drove from Chicago to New Mexico to visit my parents and do a little skiing. Even after all these years, here's a few "highlights" I remember about that trip:

Our diaper-wearing toddler experiencing "stomach distress" on the drive out there, back before the days of "family changing tables" in every public restroom. As I recall, he--all of us, including the car--needed a bath by the time it was over, not just a diaper and clothing change.
How good it was to laugh and share with my folks; how glad they were to see us.
The pristine beauty of the ski slopes.
The hospital where they put the cast on my leg.
Watching my husband pack the car--ski equipment, suitcases and our oldest son--for the drive home without me. There was no way I could endure the trip.
Sitting in the bulkhead seat, battered leg extended in front of me, toddler trying to slide down my cast, PAIN, and the utter lack of help anyone (flight staff or seatmates) were willing to extend.

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FACTOID: a toddler and a straight, casted leg do not both handily (or unhandily) fit in the lavatories in airplanes. Unless you've experienced this contortion, you can only imagine .... But don't. It will give you a headache.
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My, how things have changed for family travelers. (Not including airline lavatories.) Sure, toddlers still get stomach distress in inconvenient places, and so do we. But these days, there are so many family-friendly resources--right down to those handy-dandy changing tables. Now, I marvel as I watch that same son disappear into the men's room with his daughter, who needs a diaper change, and think, HURRAY for PROGRESS! (Take that any way you like.)

If you travel with family (and even if you don't), check out this truly unique resource with an interesting concept: FamilyTripster.com. Not only do the seasoned traveler founders of the site (the Shonts and the Bergrens) offer superb and detailed first-person experience as it relates to their own family travels--complete with pictures, tips and a few warnings--but they also collect first-hand information from families who've ventured to all kinds of places (Petra, Nevis, Dracula's Castle to name a few), and from those who live in those places.

Opening words on their "About Us" page: "We’re the Bergrens and the Shonts's, friends who dared to venture to Italy together and returned home better friends than ever (a feat in itself!). Our trip in Fall 2005 from Rome to Venice was fabulous, and only whet our appetite to travel more—and show our kids what it means to be a global citizen."

WORTH A REWIND OF A REREAD: "...show our kids what it means to be a global citizen." Now that, dear reader, is a worthy goal in and of itself!

Examples of helpful family hints in the FamilyTripster.com travellogs [sic] section:

the special young-family WARNINGS (i.e. "...'coupling' on the beach ... send a scout first...")
tips and pertinent info that applies especially to those with children--and sometimes grandparents--in tow, like what simple household item you can travel with as an antidote to an encounter with a jellyfish.

HOW TO HELP GROW THE NEW SITE: The Trip Advice page accepts shorter input from readers such as, "Share Knowledge. Think: Recommendations ('Do this!') & Warnings ('Avoid this...') Post as many as you would like." There's even a place to tell out-of-town visitors what they might want to do when they visit your home turf. FamilyTripster.com invites you to send "postcards" from the best day of your trip and, like I said, to upload full-fledged family travellogs [sic]. Those posted are always well thought out and interesting (hint-hint); I haven't yawned once during a read. The folks running the site then vet and organize them.

Real people helping real people. Seems especially important when traveling with your family, and much more reliable than some of the come-hither information contained in glitzy brochures and souped-up travel sites that make everything appear so remarkable. Yes, I know, I KNOW that brochures and websites can also be highly spot-on and helpful, but when you're taking your munchkins along, you want to make sure.

So, you submit, the site organizes and grows, and we all read and benefit. You read before you travel, and maybe not only find a few out-of-the-way and uncommon gems, but you save yourself some headaches.

As they say, it's all good.

Toot-Tooting Down Memory-laden Tracks

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 16:52:00 +0000

In the midst of a way too busy schedule, yesterday I decided to take time out for lunch with a friend. Sometimes I just need to air out the old brain so that I can return to the heavy work load in my office with a sense of refreshment. You know, change the scenery, think about something for an hour or so that doesn’t relate to my own “issues,” deadlines and why-is-everything-so-last-minute?! frustrations. I find when I don’t do this, I end up spinning my wheels and getting cranky. Very cranky.

My friend and I decided to meet at a nearby and relatively new restaurant, one that delivers the food to your table (or seat at the counter, where most of the eating takes place) via Lionel electric trains. Decades ago, there used to be a little independent café in a neighboring town with this same unique attraction. I remember going there as a kid, watching, waiting for that little train laden with my burger and fries to make it’s way out of the kitchen, down the counter, until it chugged to a stop right in front of me.

Upon entering the 2Toots Train Whistle Grill, I was happy to see the same type of setup. After I got seated, I couldn’t help but watch the anticipatory eyes of the little boy seated between his grandparents on the other side of the loop. It was like catching a glimpse at what my excitement must have looked like way back when.

Here’s how the food delivery works: the flat bed train car containing say your hand-pattied burger (their specialty), tuna salad, or egg salad sandwich, stops in front of you. (video here, but for the Downers Grove location, not the Glen Ellyn location which we frequented.) Then your waitress “unloads” your order (all meals come in a plastic basket, aside from my soup, which did not arrive via train) and asks if you’d like anything else. Occasionally someone blows what sounds like a train whistle mounted on the wall; occasionally one of the children orders the Train Whistle Cupcake that comes with a plastic train whistle on top, and of course the first thing they do is to toot-toot away too. If that isn’t enough ambiance, the theme restaurant in Glen Ellyn is located right next to real train tracks, and you can actually feel the building vibrate when a train goes by—total-package effects better than any 3-D movie.

Although the food and the company were good, what I especially enjoyed about my brain break was the trip down memory lane. For much of the lunch, we chatted about our own railroad recollections, including those of the restaurant from our past. But mostly we talked about real train rides. In fact, our dining adventure is still igniting memories, including annual childhood trips (then those with my own children) on the local Metra to “downtown Chicago” to ogle the Christmas windows in what used to be the grand old Marshall Fields, but which is now a Macy’s which, in my opinion, lost its lure during the switchover.

My husband, soon to turn 70, owns several train posters he sent away for as a youth. I keep telling him he should go to one of the monthly Great Midwest Train Show gatherings right here in our county (billed as “The World’s Largest Monthly Train Show”) and show them off, see who else might own them, swap a few yesteryear stories. One poster is from the Monon, a railroad both my grandfather and uncle worked for. I just Googled “Monon train” and wow, the memories those results evoked! I learned there’s even a book called Monon: The Hoosier Line . That’s the one my relatives, who lived in Lafayette, worked for! I am this close to clicking the “buy” button.

I remember my cousins riding the Monon from Lafayette. We’d pick them up in Chicago and go straight to Riverview. I recall taking what I believe (could be wrong here) was the California Zephyr--all the way to California to visit another cousin. I was in high school, and oh, the array of young service men riding the train on that particular Christmas break! Be still my beating heart!

George and I once traveled from Chicago to Albuquerque with our two young sons. During my very short college days at SIU, I can still remember the exhaustion I felt after taking what we referred to as the cattle run from here to Southern Illinois. I think it took 8 hours—when things went well—and stopped at at least a bazillion stations.

Then there was my brother’s Lionel; the train I rode from Thirsk to York to celebrate my 50th birthday trip to England; the entertaining and champagne swilling stream train ride on the Grand Canyon Railway wherein the bad guys rode up next to our steam engine powered train on horseback and “robbed” those of us who paid to experience the reenactment; that little train at Kiddieland I rode as a child, then later stood waving at my own children in it when they passed by…. I even learned about a brand new steam engine (who knew?!) while a-Googling, chasing first one rail trail, then the next, each memory launching me into a new one. Plus, check out this cool site that enables you to find all the surviving steam locomotives in the whole USA!

All this spawned by a lunch break to air out my brain.

I highly recommend you stop what you’re doing and schedule a brain break for yourself. Who knows what mind’s-ride journey you might embark upon.

If this post triggered a train-riding memory for you, rather than email me privately, please share it publically here under COMMENTS. A memory shared helps multiply memories for its readers, and the next thing you know, even in the midst of our otherwise overbooked schedules, we’ll all be traveling—chug-chug, toot-tooting along--to our happy places, even if we don’t have those cute little plastic whistles in our mouths.

Even in the midst ...

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 21:29:00 +0000

Even in the midst of reports of the ravages of winter--cars not starting, road salt shortages, warnings about frost bite, freezing pipes, airport hassles and canceled schools--beauty resides. By way of reminder, I bring you these quiet moments from The Farm in Minnesota. The temperature is dropping. I hear we're getting down to around 25 below zero tonight, with wind chills dipping toward 50 below. I could complain ...

And yet, without the cold, the following daybreak scenes would not exist. As you move from one view to the next, drinking of their beauty, allow yourself to listen for the mystic crunch of fresh snow beneath your boots. Behold, as evidence of your own sacred breath steams forth from your nostrils. Inhale the crisp, awakening air. Feel the coarseness of the winter coat God provides the critters. Smile at the pristine bunny prints, and give thanks that your computer is working so that in the midst of your busy-busy, you can stop for a spell and warmly--ever so warmly--allow yourself to enjoy.

There is beauty in winter. Even if you are stuck in an airport terminal, take a moment to send up a prayer for the warmth of your surroundings and the love of those who miss you while you're gone.

Remember, there is quiet beauty out there. When given the chance, don't forget to notice.

Technobabble

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 18:32:00 +0000

Since so many of my travel writing colleagues have been ticking off reviews about the latest in travel technology, I thought I'd begin the year with my own technbabble column.

I HAVE A NEW BLACKBERRY!

Since I'm all technical-like today, to be exact, it's the Blackberry Storm, model 9530. Currently, it is tethered (technical word, I'm sure) to my sexy little Sony VAIO, waiting to be used as a modem. (SPECIFICATION INTERJECTION: the Storm came with the tethering cable, but I have to pay an extra thirty bucks per month--on top of the regular thirty Blackberry bucks per month--to make this modem thing happen.) Why would I want to do that when the Storm can browse and e-mail? Because sometimes you just need to do internet stuff on a big-boy machine.

Those of you who've been reading me for a while already know that this particular Minnesota location, where I come to write, only offers dial-up here at The Farm. Therefore, the modem option sounded appealing. The question is, will it be faster than dial-up? And if it is reliable, might I be able to cancel my landline and the dial-up service? We shall return to these "Big Ifs" later.

For now, let me review what I've thus-far learned about my Blackberry, my FIRST Blackberry EVER. (I'll pause here while you regroup.) Using yet more technical jargon, I shall heretofore refer to the Storm, which I felt like I was living in those first few days, as a smartphone. To be honest, sometimes it's the smarter-than-ME phone, although I'm gaining on it. Why, just day before yesterday, I figured out how to use the Blackberry Desktop software to transfer some of my favorite music into my smartphone. More remarkable, I even know where to FIND the music, and how to listen to it. I've taken pictures (nice!), transferred pictures, e-mailed pictures and often adored the family picture I set as the home screen on the wonderful Storm viewer (or whatever you call the front). I can send and receive e-mails, answer call waiting (this took some training--and my glasses), and receive countless happy-ding reminders about all the things that need doing on my task list, which I've synced with Microsoft Outlook (2003), and lived to tell about. (Talk about SCARY! Thank you, hand-holding technical support!)

My smartphone is SO smart that it turns itself off at the same time every day, and turns itself back on in the morning. It engages in said behavior exactly when I told it to do so, which means I had to at least be a little bit smart, too. (Neener-neener.)

The reason I decided to get a smartphone is simple: I cannot keep up with my e-mail. I don't know how anyone in business can. I just know that those who have smartphones claim they help.

In the world of publishing (perhaps all business?), everyone is overworked and running behind, which means that nearly every e-mail you receive is urgent. "Please get back to us in 2 hours." There is a general assumption that *YOU* are always tethered to your e-mail, and that as soon as the e-mail is sent, it is also read, and will hopefully be obliged. High-speed internet has made for high-speed assumptions. Unread time-lapsed e-mails can cost an author publicity opportunities. For instance, perhaps a radio station needs a guest fill-in, and the show is on in a couple hours, and the message gets relayed in an e-mail because it seems nobody wants to take the time to actually TALK to anybody anymore...

As an author, I receive wonderful e-mail notes of encouragement from my readers. I love personally responding to thank folks who share such remarkable (and often personal) stories with me. As a journalist, I receive press releases by the nanosecond, and as a woman blessed with many friends, all e-mail savvy, I like to keep in touch.

When you travel, there is an extra element of e-mail overwhelm. You finally get to your hotel room, exhausted, dehydrated and needing sleep. You are ready to collapse. But first, you have to rouse your brain enough to boot up and check e-mail. Next thing you know, two hours or more have passed, "that" e-mail utterly ticked you off, "these" get deleted, "those five" need answers--and now your second wind (not the good one) won't let you relax enough to go to sleep.

Here's the reason smartphone users claim they're smart to use one: small increments of time can help them keep up with e-mails.

But buyer beware, lest you become an addict whose smartphone is hermetically sealed to your palm. I've been with those types. The whole time they're talking to you, they're also acting like they're NOT palm-up scrolling through e-mails. However, due to their lack of maintained eye contact, and an extended arm under the tablecloth--and pauses between their words--it's obvious what's going on. They make you feel like everybody who sends them an e-mail is more important than the one they're with.

I SHALL NOT SUCCUMB! When I bought the phone, I promised myself that I would be kinder.

But the smarter I get about my smartphone, the more it lures me. I have to admit that I took it in the bathroom with me this morning. While I was still in bed, the smartphone turned itself on, then started happy-dinging away, beckoning me with the promise that it knew something(s) which I did not. So, I rolled out of bed, picked it up, and into the restroom I wandered. (If you sent me an email recently, pretend you did NOT read that!) Here's what I learned: by the time I got to my laptop to start writing this column, I was all caught up with e-mail! WONDERFUL! However, shall I ever hear that happy-ding when I'm with a friend or client, I will muster my strength and RESIST--until I hit the bathroom. (Just kidding. Maybe.)

Hey! How did I digress from the technology review straight into potty talk?

NO! You will not get me, smartphone! I'm going back to my review.

THINGS I'VE LEARNED ABOUT MY SMARTPHONE [this is a subliminal message written and delivered by me, the Blackberry Storm 9530: I am the smartest!]:

--TETHERING: Here in this remote area, on Verizon's extended network, I cannot receive EV Verizon service. I only get 1X. (I cannot TELL you how technical I feel to even discuss this, although I'm holding my breath, awaiting that happy-ding from Travelinglaughs readers telling me that I am still clueless.) That means the modem part works, but slowly--often not faster than dial-up, and sometimes slower and more glitchy. So, the verdict is out as to whether or not the extra thirty bucks is worth it, when extended network use is my only option. (For the record, it was way faster in Verizon's EV service. I checked back in IL.)

VERIZON ADVANTAGE: Since modem use is an add-on, I can move it on and off my services, therefore only having to pay for the time I'm actually here. However, whether I use it or not, landline and dial-up service charges soldier on.

However, until I make the decision, I'm paying for ALL the options, so it's a spendy month or two. But I have to be able to communicate, and I don't want to hamstring myself. In the end, even if I decide I don't like using the smartphone as a modem here in extended network 1X-land, the main Blackberry service is still a huge timesaver over having to dial up twenty times a day to check my e-mail. That part works great!

--KEYBOARD: Since this is my FIRST Blackberry, and since I've read so many terrible reviews of the Storm (along with some good ones), I have no point of reference with which to compare it to previous Blackberry models. But I can tell you this: I LOVE the Storm! [Subliminal message from Blackberry Storm: I knew you would ... so much so that you cannot live without me.] I'm now relatively accurate at typing with my thumbs, and find myself using the vertical keyboard more often than the full horizontal option. I've discovered that if you do not LOOK at what you're typing when you use the vertical method, it goes very well. If you look, and keep trying to correct what it hasn't figured out yet, you'll make yourself nuts. So don't look. But it's nice to have the horizontal option. [Subliminal message from Blackberry Storm: Plus, my blue touch light is sooooo bright and pretty, and I know how much you like it. Neener-neener.]

--TECHNICAL SUPPORT: Both Verizon and Blackberry technical support rock. I've been with Verizon since they were Ameritech, which is a long time. I have never received bad technical support. Period. My only complaint is that much of Wisconsin and Minnesota are still "extended network" for Verizon service (thus 1X), but I'm told that is changing. We'll see. I'm glad the e-mails push through on the Storm better than the modem service works.

--EASE OF USE: I admit that I almost never read manuals. I learn by poking around until I figure things out, which I have. I've only seriously referred to the manual once or twice, and that had to do with setting ring tones for different things. It's a bit of a convoluted path, but once learned, easy to follow.

--ACCESSORIES: A couple I really like: the Blackberry Storm swivel holster. (QUICK DRAW!) When you put the phone in the case, there is some magnetic something-or-other that makes the phone hibernate or something, which saves battery. (Technobabble, in case you missed it.) You can set all sounds to either SOUND or NOT SOUND when it's in the holster, which I clip to various things when traveling in the car. Even when you drag the holster around in your purse, the Storm's volume is magnificent. A girlfriend with an older BB used to complain about not being able to hear it ring when it was in her handbag.

I also like that rubbery skin [subliminal message from Blackberry Storm: But not as much as me], which keeps it from sliding around on my desk. I occasionally just use that, rather than the case. (I always use the case when it's in my purse. I'm rough on electronics.) Plus, I use the screen skins, which I'm told help protect the glass.

--FUN APPLICATIONS: Haven't had time to check any of them out. Perhaps some of you can chime in here, and let me know the gooders. In fact, please DO use the comment section to do so. All smartphone topics are welcome. Now that I'm a member of the smartphone club, I'm all ears--and e-mails and happy-dings. BRING IT ON!

As for YOU, Blackberry Storm, please keep your opinions to yourself. I'm wise to your ways.

WAIT! What's that ding?

On Travel and Truth Telling

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 19:50:00 +0000

Soon (PLEASE, God!), I'll be heading to my writing hideaway in Minnesota. Rewrites for Stray Affections (coming in September), the first novel in my Snowglobe Connections series, are calling--and due in January. As a professional writer (stand back: professional words at work!), I've learned that deadlines equal incentive, as in no deadline, no incentive, no writing, no get paid.

I'll be driving to Minnesota, and that's just the way I like it. My estimated departure? When I get my work-load under control (HA!), Christmas packages and cards sent, the car packed, Kornflake (my big red dog) in the back seat, all my files and resources loaded (plus all my electronic gadgets), and the weather looks road worthy. However, considering that I thought I'd already be in MN a week and a half ago, thus the topic of today's message: the airlines.

Well, sort of, but not really. Ultimately, you will be the judge of that. It's just that the airline industry is often such an easy, ripe and deserving target on which to blame things, rather than taking the blame ourselves--even when they have nothing to do with our failures. But since I'm trying to hold myself accountable here (perhaps even ring your blame-game bells), let's have at it.

Air travel is a strange beast, but then, so am I. If I were forced to post a personal schedule in a terminal on a display board, I can only imagine how much fun the travelers, the travel industry, the press, and bloggers such as myself, would have slamming my "delayed," "canceled" and "just plain dumb" notices.

Seriously, I just creeped myself out considering how embarrassing it would be to get busted--in public--for my own scheduling and business screw-ups. (How can we not think about this, here in Illinois, the day after our governor creates such humiliating national headlines? Then again, innocent until PROVEN guilty, right? Then again, it is Illinois, so ….) I couldn't live long enough to list the number of times I've said, "I'll be on the road by 7:30 a.m.," only to finally back out of the driveway at 2 p.m.. Sometimes I'm backing out again at 2:15 because a short way down the road, I realize I've forgotten something critical to my trip.

I've been on airplanes that pushed away, then, for one reason or another, returned to the gate. Once, in an unhappy and monotone voice, the captain informed us that a crew member –and he named her!--had forgotten her suitcase which contained security tags she’d need for her next trip. When she came schlepping back onto the plane, bag in tow, her poor face was so red. I wanted to unbelt myself and hug her, then thank her for making me feel so human. I also wanted to smack the snot out of the mean pilot, but alas, that type of behavior doesn't go over well these days. I value my breath.

[NOSTALIC INTERRUPTION: Remember the good old days when they'd occasionally return to the gate for a passenger? I get all mushy just thinking about it.]

But since I'm holding myself accountable, when it comes to mess-ups, delays, and doofus behaviors, I'm guessing my over-all track record just about matches the abysmal stats for the airlines, and maybe even tops it. It's terrorizing to imagine how few people would read what I have to say if they knew the sum total of my foibles.

Then again, that's why I call myself a humorist, because every dumb thing I do is fodder for the stage or page. Sometimes people ask me where I come up with such hysterical stories. "I just wake up and follow me around," I say. And it's the truth. I have a nonfiction book releasing in June that will likely cause you to laugh until you cry: Don't Miss Your Life!: An Uncommon Guide to Living With Freedom, Laughter and Grace. (Go here to sign up for release particulars.) When we suffer from a dumbness crisis, what's our choice, other than to ground ourselves indefinitely, and live tortured, guilty lives? NO WAY!

For instance, just last week, I fell out of a car. Seriously. And now I’m going to WRITE ABOUT IT! Thank goodness the car wasn't moving. But the dumbest part? It's the third time it's happened to me this year. Here's how it goes:

I'm in the passenger seat. George pulls up to drop me off (like the airlines, I'm often running late--too late to be "on time" if I have to find a parking space), I go to hop out of the car, and instead, I crash land on the cement because my foot is tangled in one of the long straps on my handbag. THREE TIMES AND THE EXACT SAME SCENARIO! This last time, I hobbled for days. The skin was scrapped off both my knees (through my jeans!), and my right knee, which took the bulk of the impact, is still three shades of green.

Seriously, folks, I would NOT want to see my personal snafus posted on a flight board as "Delayed again due to ongoing stupidity." Although to be honest, somehow seeing the AIRLINES post that type of missive on a flight board would arrive as a welcome relief. They seem to often make reasons up as to why they're in trouble, which gets us (at least me) twice as mad. At least I tell the truth, no matter how sorry or doofus-laden it is.

All this to say, I'm driving to Minnesota as soon as I get my business ducks and Christmas stuff in a row. My original departure time was more than a week ago. I'm still not caught up. I'll try not to fall down. I hope the weather doesn't interfere. I'll talk to you from Minnesota next week. Hopefully.

As for the airlines? They’re on their own to keep us informed.

But How would you feel if you saw “Delayed again due to ongoing bad management” posted on a flight board. Seriously? How would you feel? Comment below.

Get Your Funky Sleep On!

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 16:45:00 +0000

Sometimes, just reading itinerary details for an upcoming trip makes a traveler weary. Look at all those flights and meetings. Imagine how many drop-kicks, punts, Hail-Marys, taxi blitzes, play-book plans, or long runs I'll need to undertake in order to procure ground transportation between all those meetings. (Hey, it's football season.) So many keys and room numbers, business receipts for meals and bottled water (where should I keep them this time so that I don't lose money on my expense account?), laundry issues, stomach upset, time changes. I sure hope I can sleep. I packed my own alarm clock, right? I have my passport, right? I double-checked to make sure my flights are still flying, right?

DON'T FORGET TO PACK THIS ITINERARY!

But sometimes, that jam-packed itinerary contains one gem of an item or activity that looks to be so enticing that you can hardly wait to get to it. Such was the case for my recent Amsterdam trip. The gem: the citizenM. (Poet and know it.)

When the citizenM Amsterdam originally appeared on my itinerary (which I did not arrange), my first thought was, Hm. What's this? So I checked out the website. Then I checked it out about ten more times. Next, I forwarded the link to my family and friends, explaining how I couldn't wait to see this funky citizenM in person. Then I started bugging said family and friends, asking them if they'd looked at the site yet.

"Did your run your mouse over 'the room' set-up?" (THEY JUMP ON THE BED!)
"Did you watch the movie?"
"Isn't that FUN?"
"Mood lights!"

Collective pre-trip speculations, not all with which I agreed:

Teensy tiny rooms (could be bad)
Strange (maybe too strange)
Kitschy
Fun
Cutting edge
Funky
"Saw this concept on a documentary."
Loud (maybe)
Lacking (possible)
Not for old people (which I am)
Interesting
Maybe not conducive for business (we'll see)
Not handy to downtown Amsterdam

Whatever. I'm still excited.

After arriving at Schiphol, a worthy stop of it's own (read about my Security Blues), the citizenM, ("citizen mobile") was the first stop on the itinerary, and it couldn't have been closer or more convenient. We walked out the airport door, strolled for a couple mostly-canopied minutes, and there we were. Yes, the citizenM is located right on the airport grounds.

When our band of merry fellow travelers arrived for our check-in, we were greeted by Michael Levie, CEO of citizenM hotels. Although he had a previous commitment scheduled, he'd gone out of his way to stay long enough to extend us a handshake and warm welcome. We were then turned over to the young and perky desk folks. I snagged a moment to look around: Nice! Unusual. Interesting. Kitschy. Fun! Even the furniture was unusual --and Oh, that's what they mean by canteenM! After all, it says on their website that the "citizenM is named after a new type of traveller; the mobile 'citizen' of this world. Mobile citizens are frequent – but wise – travellers, globally aware, value conscious, not afraid of technology, contemporary, informed and have a social, free spirited personality."

THAT IS SO ME! I thought as I fluttered with delight at my first impressions.

(Before I get into more details, let me make it clear that this was not a comped stay. We each paid for our own room: 69 Euros, which is a price available to anyone, dependent upon their fill rate. So, since I paid, I have no "extra incentive" to herewith pad my opinions toward the positive, and yet, mostly positive they shall be. I LOVED the place!)

By the time we were done receiving live-person help to walk us through the computer check-in process (simple, really, but after you've been flying all night, even brushing your teeth--all your teeth--can sometimes feel challenging), we had a key in our hands that doubled as a reusable bag tag, which I immediately attached to my purse strap so as not to lose it. (I'm famous for losing my room keys, and just about any and everything else.) What I was also thinking was, "How clever they are at PR: a room key that doubles as a walking advertisement."

We only had a few moments to get to our rooms and freshen up before our official tour, hosted by Robin Chadra, CMO. So off to our rooms we ventured, oogling all the way (well, me anyway). I have to say that I was actually excited to see what I'd obsessed about on their website. So, with "reality check" in the back of my brain, and yet a certain buzzed expectancy, (been there?) I opened the door and ... NICE! Exactly how it looked on the web! (A miracle, if you know what I mean.) Small, but efficient. Bright. Kitschy. Fun. Oh, that's how the shower works! Then I kicked off my shoes and hurled myself onto the giant bed, which lent no hint as to top or bottom. The many glorious pillows and wonderfully fluffy and cuddly covers were arranged in the middle of the bed, waiting for Goldilocks to arrange and rearranging them until they were just right. And so this salt-and-pepper haired "Goldi" did.

The bed was surrounded on 3 sides by walls and/or a giant window. One of the walls held the large flat-screen TV (Philips is a special partner), which could be viewed from of course the bed, the shower, the teensy table and chair (more later) .... I found the much touted moodpad I'd read about (scroll down on this page) and played with it until it was time for our hotel tour. (I just want to read the faqs, Charlene.) I couldn't wait to get back to the room; after all, I hadn't yet tried all the moods.

Chadra was lavish with his time and answered all questions/critiques with style, grace and honesty. Joe Brancatelli, my travel guru--and eons above and beyond a well-seasoned traveler--zeroed right in on the inefficient size of the table/desk in the rooms. Like I said, it was round and small (you can see it in my first picture), therefore it didn't allow sufficient room for him to efficiently set up his laptop and papers. Since the entire hotel offers FREE WI-FI, he could have crawled up in the bed to work, but not everyone likes to do so, including me. My little Sony is so tiny that the allotted space was fine for me, but I understood his complaint. His (or anyone's) alternative: use one of the giant-screened complimentary computers in the computer area of the lobby. Of course if one likes to work in one's underwear .... In response to Joe's "desk" critique, which spoke for most serious business travelers (or travellers, as they say over there), Chadra assured Brancatelli that they were already working on a few things, and that was one of them.

While they hashed through citizenM's vision for the future, I kept thinking, I can't wait to get back to my room and that Control Central thingie. Honestly, it does everything from change the mood (lighting colors) to changing the channels, to setting the alarm (built into the TV), to raising and lowering the light block-out shade and sheers, to controlling the temperature and .... FUN! FUN! FUN! (Call me easily entertained. It's true.)

The citizenM in Amsterdam occupies a small footprint for such a large amount of rooms, as will the rest of their builds. Part of the reason is that there is no laundry service on site, no kitchen, or other typical "service" space-needy stuff. (Food service and laundry are done off site and delivered.) Their constructions details are very interesting. And yet, you still get everything you need. Surprisingly, the food in the canteenM was actually terrific. Want a cold sandwich? Get it out of the canteenM area, charge it to your room, take it there or belly up to one of their tables or bar areas to eat it. Want a hot dish? Do the same, but use the microwave first. There is only ONE BUTTON to push; they've figured everything out. They also serve beverages, make special coffees, and do it all with a youthful energy and friendliness I found inspiring and refreshing.

BY WAY OF RECAP, REASON and FAIRNESS:

Was it a place just for young people? Absolutely not! Throughout their bright rooms, the canteenM, computer area and living rooms, there was a chair to suit every back, and a place to appease every traveler's mood and need, whether it be business or socializing. If you're traveling alone, this is a place you don't feel out of place. Everyone in my travel-savvy group agreed that the bed was wonderful.

Would you want to stay there a week or longer? Hm. Not sure. If you're sightseeing in Amsterdam, you'd have a substantial public transportation trip to deal with every day--although it's readily available right there at the airport.

Is there plenty of room in your room? Depends. They've designed great use of a small space for the necessities. For instance, the full-length mirror is on a swivel, and the back side of that swivel mirror (notice in my first picture, to the left of the sink) reveals plenty of shelves for your toiletries, their hair dryer etc.. It's close enough to the sink to be truly useful. (This lack of shelf space in most B&Bs makes me nuts.) However, if you need to hang up a bunch of clothes, there is no closet, just a short rod right inside the door with a couple/few hangers--clothes facing forward. If you like to sit in a lounge chair in your room, too bad. But, you can prop up those cushy pillows and stretch out, and you can stuff extra clothes in the ample drawer under the bed, if that works for you.

Remember, citizenM stands for "citizen mobile," and their assumption is that you're not staying there so you can hang around in your room all day.

WARNING: If you shower (make that after you shower, okay?), either close the shower doors and use the smaller walk-way created by doing so, or dry the shower floor. If you leave the doors open and the shower floor damp, your "inclination" will be to use that shower floor space as part of your walk-way. Don't. You can easily go a-skidding in your shoes. Guess how I learned? (An "aside" mixed-message warning: the shower is utterly glorious, but note that once you lather up your face, there is no place to PUT your face that is out of the shower spray, say in case you want to find the shampoo again. In other words, the shower spray comes from the top of the shower, and is exactly that big, which makes it both wonderful and inescapable.) However, their citizenM Soap smells so good that you will not mind the extra work. It comes in it's own plastic travel case. (Of course you take this with!) On the top of the case it says, "Designed to turn even the longest-haul traveller into a sparklingly clean and nice-smelling human being again." This kind of fun and light-handed--yet utterly serviceable--touch runs throughout.

EXTRA WARNING: Use the privacy door when you sit on the toilet. If anyone opens your door, HELLO PEOPLE IN THE HALLWAY!

Now it's your turn. Spend some time on their website. I think you'll enjoy the cleverness. I promise I won't treat you like my friends and family, bugging you with questions like, Did you move your mouse over the room set-up, or watch the video yet. Just DO IT! Okay?

Although I love the Hampton Inns here in the United States (although I've noticed they're getting more spendy than some Hiltons, have you?), if they start building citizenMs anywhere near my destinations (although that looks to be a while), for me, it will be a no-brainer. Just color me a certified citizenM groupie, for alas, I SO AM!

On Wheels and Walking in Amsterdam

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 18:08:00 +0000

Amsterdam. What a great place. Seriously, I loved it! (More in upcoming posts.) But beware: if you’re not careful, walking in Amsterdam can be hazardous to your life.

Sure, jaywalking and reckless drivers can cause a smack-down anywhere, but in Amsterdam, it’s walking where you think you’re supposed to walk that can kill you. Not counting water taxis on the canals, there seems to be a different traveling pecking order in Amsterdam, and from my point of view, it goes like this:

Bicyclists (absolutely first – jingle-jingle)
Trams (ding-ding)
City buses (hear the engine)
Cars (an occasional honk)
Motorcycles and scooters (vroom-vroom)
Pedestrians (“Yikes!”)

The first in my series of near smack-downs arrived as I was walking between the Hotel Okura (more in an upcoming post) and a salon. (Notice there is only one o in that word.) I was in a hurry because I'd just been struck with one of my I-need-a-haircut-right-now attacks.

With desperation in my eyes, I asked the concierge at the Hotel Okura, “Is there a nearby beauty salon where I might get a quick haircut?” He nodded, flipped through his giant stack of business cards, pulled out the one he was looking for, then gave his choice a quick call and query. “Yes, she can be there in five minutes,” I heard him say before he hung up. Then he jotted down an address and handed it to me.

“Go out the front door, turn left till you reach the street, turn right, cross the canal, and in about a block, it will be right there on your right.” (Man, I wish I had a personal concierge on my staff. Better yet, I wish I had a staff.) "It'll only take you a minute," he added. Nice. Four leisurely minutes to spare.

Who would think that in two short blocks, I could nearly do myself in, all for the sake of vanity? (I heard that!)

I set off like the Chicago Suburbanite I am, mindlessly sauntering into that right-hand turn. Oh, I love the canals! Oh, the architecture is so awesome here, and so European. And oh …

SAUNTER INTERRUPTUS!

Elbows of two bicyclists all but skimmed off my ears when they whizzed around me, then I heard the sounds of skidding bicycle tires behind me. I jumped to the left—only to hear a bicycle's jingle-jingle, which I quickly learned is a polite yet unmistakable Dutch version of GET OUT OF THE WAY RIGHT NOW, TOURIST! So, I lurched to the right and … JINGLE-JINGLE! Finally I realized that what appeared to be a sidewalk was instead a dedicated bicycle lane.

Now, this does not mean that bicyclists stay in the multitudes of designated bicycle lanes that look like sidewalks. They also ride the actual pedestrian sidewalks, the streets, and slingshot in front of the buses and trams, all while talking on their cell phones, carrying passengers (sometimes a couple/few children at a time), briefcases and groceries. Truly, it's amazing! For them, it is as natural as, say, walking on something that looks like a sidewalk.

Let me share a perspective-slamming stat from the Amsterdam Tourist Office: “Nearly half of all traffic movements in Amsterdam are by bike.” I would add that while I was there, one-third of all the remaining traffic “movements” was me leaping out of the way of the bikes, the trams, other motorized vehicles, and, in case I didn't make myself clear, more bicycles.

In truth, Amsterdam has a marvelous public transportation system, and their bicycle prowess is utterly inspiring. But for this foreigner, it was a harrowing task to figure out the natural Dutch order and speedy flow of things.

For instance, while dodging bicycles, cars and motor scooters to get to where I thought I was supposed to be standing (feel the wind-up) to catch a tram, I nearly got pegged by another tram. Eventually I learned I was supposed to be standing on this teensy “island” (honestly, it was barely as wide as me) that was hardly obvious, yet was located smack in the middle of all those “movements.”

As you can see by my pictures, there is a chorus of “movements” in Amsterdam, which to the untrained eye --and especially the slow moving body--might at first (and second and third) seem a bit chaotic. If you can just sit and watch it from high above, it is mesmerizing. However, when you're down in it, well . . . .

This is of course why I decided to catch a ride with a horse. Because I could. Surely an entire gigantic horse wouldn't get pegged off as quickly as the pitiful me. And honestly, a HORSE?! There are also HORSES clomping through all this “movement?”

The Amsterdam Tourist Office touts that there are “no less than” 600,000 bicycles for 730,000 people who live in Amsterdam. That is some statistic. It is also my observation that everyone is in good shape. While taking a night-time canal ride (wonderful!), our host explained that native residents get their first bicycle when they turn three. She said it comes with a tall orange flag to let everyone know there is a beginner nearby. She also said, “We are very good on our bicycles.”

To which I would add, unbelievably good. The fact that I am alive to write about it is living proof. And the next time I visit Amsterdam, I'm taping an orange flag to my body.

The Security Blues

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 17:48:00 +0000

For my recent week-long trip to Amsterdam, with a night in NYC tacked on to each end, I determined that I would not check a bag. Sure, I had a couple "fancy clothes" business meetings, and I needed to take my jeans in order to exist in the manner to which I am accustomed. And a girl needs at least one extra pair of shoes to coordinate outfits, and her creams and potions, deodorant and charging cords, a laptop and camera, her data base and a few lip glosses, an inch-thick folder with business and tourist information, and okay, a couple clothing options. . . . But I am living proof that one CAN travel for nine days with 2 carry-on bags filled to the brim, and still clear security without a hassle.

At least on the way out of the country. (Feel the wind-up?)

In Amsterdam's Schiphol Airport, you don't pass through a full-blown security check-point until you enter your gate area. (Yes, they are set up with security measures at each gate!) All it takes to cruise the concourse is a boarding pass and your passport. Piece of cake. The whole facility is so filled with opportunities for pleasure and entertainment that it's easy to forget you still have Security Work to do before boarding. After all, here in the United States, we're used to having that behind us by the time we go browsing, or speed-racing--whichever suits the day's agenda.

Imagine the freedom to shop (bought me some excellent Dutch licorice), get a massage (20 minutes' worth, I did), browse a museum (which I didn't, but I could have), eat (bought a sandwich to take on the plane, which I never ate because OpenSkies served me two great meals) without first having to prove you're a safe, secure and compliant 3-1-1, liquid-and-gel-toting person!

Eventually, I dragged my way to my gate, which meant I'd finally arrived at the Gotcha! point of my long journey. No, they didn't "get me" with the questions, which were rigorous; thankfully I had the right answers. But the next step was like a double-gottcha since your bags pass through the X-ray machine about the same time as you do; like in the states, these elements are side by side. However, at Schiphol, the next folks don't pass through until both you and your stuff have cleared security.

But no problem-o, right? I had nothing to hide. I removed my jacket and put it in a bin. When I started to remove my shoes, I was told there was no need. "Try getting through with them on. If you buzz, then you can take them off." (WOW! Now there's a concept!) Shoes on, I removed my computer from my smaller bag and put it in a bin. With a great grunt and heft, I got both my bags up on the conveyor belt. Then, through the machine they signaled me to walk, and through the scanner my bags traveled.

BZZZZZZZ!

"Remove your shoes, please." I passed through again without them.

BZZZZZZZ!

And guess what else? The X-Ray readers were hot on the trail of a suspect something in my bag!

I shall herewith promise to never again complain about getting wanded at O'Hare, my home airport. At Schiphol, they used a wand, sure. But after I set off the wand, too, the female security person checked me out. Thoroughly. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

While she was checking me, the X-Ray man was communicating with another security person who now had my green bag in front of him, unzipped--stuff exploding out of it every which way. X-Ray man was pointing at his machine and verbally trying to describe exactly where in the bag the suspicious item resided, which was down in the bottom near a wheel.

Released from the pat-down person, I donned my shoes and jacket and stepped up to my suitcase, which I'd been requested to do. The Very Serious gentleman was attempting to slither his meaty hand down into the bottom side of my suitcase to locate whatever they were excited about, but his hand would not fit. My dirty socks, laid across the top like noodles since, what with the purchase of a few souvenirs, prohibited me from fitting them in any other way, were crawling out of the bag this way and that. I could not imagine what they were after--unless it was the USB mouse I use for my laptop. I remembered tucking it in that bag at the last minute. I asked if that could be it.

"No. We see that."

The X-Ray guy kept pointing at something on the machine, while the rest of the folks backed up behind me. Finally, I leaned around to look at the machine's X-ray to see if I could figure out what on earth they were searching for.

"Oh! That's my harmonica!"

Without smiling, the man at my suitcase asked me if I played. I explained that I was teaching myself, and mumbled something like, "You can file that where you will." Bag-search man did not look convinced or humored. About anything.

"You won't feel the harmonica with your bare hand," I finally said, noting his digging was fruitless. "It's wrapped up inside a hat."

He withdrew his hand, then stared at my bag and the predicament for a moment. "I'm not supposed to let you do this," he finally said, "but in this case, I think it would be best if you retrieve it, since you know exactly where to find what we're looking for."

After a quick prayer, I jimmied my hand down inside my suitcase, hoping to recognize the feel of my hat on the first try. Otherwise, I'd have to disassemble my whole bag. Not pretty.

AHA! Got it! I came up with the hat, unfolded it and presented my harmonica, which is one step up from a dollar store version. He took a quick look at it, then handed it back to me.

"QUIET, EVERYONE! QUIET!" he yelled throughout the entire gate area. (I am not exaggerating!) Then he stared at me. "Play."

Oh, Lordy.

In a panic, without first looking at it, I put the harmonica to my mouth. I didn't notice that I had the high "keys" to my left, which was all wrong, so when I attempted to play "You are my sunshine," it came out a chaotic, non-melodious, dog-toy squeaky mess instead of the bluesy rendition I've been working on. But apparently, it was good enough for security. Both men broke out in laughter and told me I could move on.

All that was left for me to do was to pick up my ego, repack my bag, and body slam it back into submission -- and tuck my harmonica away, where it belongs.

Open thinking = OpenSkies

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 23:10:00 +0000

THE PREAMBLE

Before I get into specifics about my OpenSkies’ inaugural travel experience from JFK to AMS, let me preface with the following framework for my review: I am a notorious coach class flyer.

There. I’ve said it. But stay with me, business class travelers, for at the very least, I should help you truly appreciate that to which you've become accustomed.

Since I opened the door to my coach-class status, for the record, let me also say that while I always request an aisle seat, and book early enough to get one, I prefer the dreaded middle seat to the window. (From what I hear, business fare travelers would rather hitch hike to their destination than get stuck in the middle.) To me, window seats feel The Most crowded since the fuselage folds around under my feet, and the space on the floor under the seat in front of me is less than with the middle. Not good. I always have “stuff” I want to handily stuff there. Also, since everyone feels so sorry for me in the middle, I usually get both arm rests. I realize this might sound like no compensation for you serious (as in there is no other way for you to look at it) business travelers, but it is my truth.

Due to budget constraints (both personal, as well as for those who pay my travel expenses to come speak—and by the way, I’m fascinating!), I’m careful with travel dollars. I watch and wait for the best coach fares. But even I have my limits: in order to survive, I pay close attention (and extra dollars) to and for nonstop and sensible flight times. In other words, I will not get “the cheapest flight” if it makes even one extra stop, or if I have to be on it at 6 AM., which means a middle-of-the-night wake-up call in order to save money, but which also leaves no coherency with which to speak. Although I cannot be sure, I herewith surmise that I’m less “fascinating” when I am incoherent.

I’ve never flown business class. To the best of my recollection, I’ve flown first class less than a half-dozen times, including twice for vacation purposes. Once I used my AA miles to get us (my husband and me) to Alaska; the other time we were bumped due to an over sell. Other than one intentional first-class booking by a publishing house, the rest of my handful of first-class experiences also arrived via the fate of the bump. I was just in the right place at the right time to be the right one to get to fly in what I refer to as luxury, while most business class travelers would simply call it “the necessary.”

MY OPENSKIES EXPERIENCE

(OpenSkies = a wholly owned subsidiary of British Airways currently flying only two routes, between JFK and Amsterdam or Paris.]

From the OpenSkies website: “The goal of our new airline is to go beyond the status quo and bring you something unique - something that redefines personalised service. We aspire to be different in everything we do, from our swift check-in to our thoughtfully designed cabins to our a la carte meal selections and award-winning wine selection. Plus, our proven, fuel-efficient Boeing 757 aircraft never have more than 64 passengers per flight. We hope to make comfort standard for every flight.”

BIZ CLASS

So, come with me now as I bring my well-traveled yet coach-classed self to Wednesday, October 15, after I accepted the opportunity (NOT paid for by OpenSkies so that I was free to tell it like I really lived it) to board OpenSkies’ inaugural flight from JFK to AMS. (They’ve been flying JFK to Paris for a couple months.) I traveled my outbound trip in their officially titled BIZ Class. Even though their website boasts, “This is not typical business class,” the only thing I actually know about typical business class is that I cannot afford it, and that I am incredibly happy for those who can. Life on the road is difficult; any and all extra affordable (and isn’t that relative?!) comforts are golden.

My return trip was booked in their PREM+ (more later); these are the only two class tickets OpenSkies sells—coach travel be GONE!). But, because of my outbound BIZ class ticket, for the first time in my life, I was able to enjoy an airline lounge experience. (British Airways lounges are not open to OpenSkies PREM+ flyers. Just the BIZ whizzes.) Since I have no point of comparison, I’m sure you seasoned lounge folks will file this where you will, especially if you’re a gold+max+platinum+million-bazillion mile lounge lizard—well, you know what I mean. But I’d like to go on the record as saying that my virgin experience with the BA lounge at JFK was awesome.

True to their motto and intent, OpenSkies folks were front and center to meet and greet us, and to proudly celebrate their inaugural flight to AMS. They offered a special welcome table set up with cheeses and beers, Amsterdam maps and chocolates. They were friendly and clearly excited about their big day. I, of course, was front and center at the table with them, chatting, gathering info, pounding down a plate of cheese (wonderful cheese!) and crackers, every bite for which I never once had to retrieve my wallet. (Coach traveler, remember.)

Since the BA lounge is large and rambling--including a separate restaurant for pre-flight meals, should you decide to board your flight and go straight to sleep; an Elemis Travel Spa; a well-stocked bar; computer stations; separate “living room” settings; a generous and diverse light fair food offering -- I was in awe, sort of like a kid in fairyland. I sat in a few cushy-chair locations, just because I could. This is quite the switch-up from wandering around looking for crowded and uncomfortable terminal and/or gate seating, or standing in line for a hot dog, or schlepping my bags from here to there realizing that “available” Wi-Fi does not usually mean “free” Wi-Fi.. Since I knew my PREM+ return wouldn’t get me in the BA lounge in AMS, I decided to truly kick back and enjoy the opportunity. After all, I was traveling to Amsterdam (also a first), AND IN BIZ CLASS!

As we boarded, I’m sure I was bug-eyed. What I saw was nothing like I’d ever seen before—although I’m told these types of seats were the older version of British Airways business class (not first class) seats. Even though I’d seen picture of the sleeping man (click on Biz) on the OpenSkies website, it was still, to be honest, kind of surreal. Passengers traveling together could face each other and chat, rather than talking side-by-side. Passengers not wanting to dialogue with (or see) their neighbor (or spouse) only needed to unfold the fan-like divider between them.

When I finally stopped gawking and settled in to build my nest, the next thing I noticed was that there was no place under the seat in front of me for my stuff. (We are what we are.) I quickly learned that one needs to plan ahead in OpenSkies BIZ class. A gypsy needs to think through what she wants out of her stuff bag and remove it before stowing it overhead, or she (a very short she) needs to stand up and drag her overhead bag down to retrieve every this-and-that. So, I prowled through my red bag, pulled out my noise reduction headset, my book, my MP3 player, my lip gloss and . . . then tried to figure out where they were supposed to go once/while I sat down. Where was my in-front-of-me pocket? I felt like I was tucking myself in for the night, real tight like; it took me about thirty seconds to spill the glass of water they gave me (a real glass and not the screw-on lid plastic bottle), which needed to rest on this teensy pull-down shelf which is the triangle-shaped item, upper right, to the right of the black space.

Nonetheless, the seat was extremely comfortable. I enjoyed playing with all the electronic buttons that adjusted every part of it. However, the foot rest to help give you to the full 180 recline needed to be manually unbuckled and lowered. (left) I do not advise reclining and raising your legs before you try this. Don’t ask me how I pulled this off, unless you’d like to hear a description of a beached whale in a telephone booth.

Beverages of all types were offered (no reaching for my wallet); they served the best packet of nuts I’ve ever tasted; and the flight attendants seemed truly glad to have us on board. They even served champagne (again, no wallet) and presented a toast for their inaugural flight. Very festive! They set each of us up with our personal entertainment centers (excellent selection of options!), pointed out universal plugs for computer use, served us a delicious dinner (choice of 3 courses), and gave us comfy blankets and pillows. In all the inaugural excitement, our cabin’s flight attendant forgot to offer us eye masks and fluffy socks (I learned about this later) in case we desired to shut out the world and waggle our toes. However, I didn’t miss them.

I was asked if I’d like to be awakened for a light breakfast. Hel-LO? FOOD—for which I’m not getting out my wallet?! Of course! Breakfast was preceded by a hot towel with which to refresh my hands and face. This sure beats the cold Huggies Baby Wipes I usually travel with for this same purpose!

Now, it’s possible the majority of these amenities and niceties, at least in some form, are always available to business and first class travelers flying the front of the plane, even when they’re not heading over seas. I wouldn’t know; they close those curtains, you know, and besides, I’m too busy peeling the plastic wrap off a terminal sandwich (take that any way you like) to notice. But I have to admit, because of these swell things, it was the fastest 8+ hours of travel I’ve encountered, and this had all to do with the comfy and constant repositioning of my seat, the entertainment center, the courtesies, the enthusiasm of the flight attendants, the work station options, but mostly, the space.

SPACE

Imagine a 757 configured with only 64 seats! Wide aisles. Plenty of leg room, for even the longest legs (not mine), and plenty of wide, for even we fluffy-bodied travelers (name it and claim it, Charlene). Check out the stats.

Although I didn’t take advantage of it, OpenSkies offers their passengers a personal concierge service; the phone number is listed on your confirmation. Check out their website; you can even book rental cars, motels and excursions right along with your airline tickets using their partners.

On their website, OpenSkies says, “You are our guest. We want to provide you a stress free, memorable experience - we're out to get the little things right.” They want to “go beyond the status quo.” I had the privilege to personally meet OpenSkies Managing Director Dale Moss, and Chris Vukelich,Vice President, Distribution and eCommerce man. Their utter passion and dedication to getting it right for their passengers and not just their airline was inspiring. The intentions at the top are trickling down to the cabins, and in the best of ways. One of the things Moss said that stuck with me was how much faster a small airline can make changes, and how intent they are on staying on top of their best game.

PREM+

AMS to JFK, I traveled PREM+. Here’s the deal: my coach-class budget and personal preferences about things like storing my stuff in front of me endeared me to PREM+ over BIZ class, even though I had a window seat. And guess what? I STILL had tons of room! No, I didn’t get the 180 recline, but I had space galore (I felt way less confined) and an adjustable foot rest I didn’t have to struggle with. I had a small table area between the seats (traditional side-by-side seating) on which to set my drink without spilling it. I still got the entertainment center, the hot towel treatment, chocolates (just not as many), nuts, choice of beverages, a hot meal and a pre-JFK-arrival snack, universal plugs for my work stuff, a face mask, booties, and smiling service.

Caveat: oddly, even though PREM+ only housed seven passengers this particular leg, and I was only the fifth person to be served, still, by the time they got to me, they were out of the chicken entrée (PREM+ gets two choices while BIZ gets three). Now, I was going to opt for the pasta anyway, but this was out of sync with their mottos.

In spite of that, truly, I can’t think what I truly missed in my BIZ class experience, aside from the 180 recline, which, to be honest, I didn’t really utilize to its fullest anyway. I found my back most comfortable when I was only partially reclined. Oh, and of course the BA lounge experience, which, although it was wonderful, was something I can easily live without, especially for the price difference in BIZ to PREM+ – and especially since I’m used to living without it anyway.

PRICING

Today, October 23^rd, I’m looking at www.flyopenskies.com website and here’s what I’ve found. Let’s say I want to fly round-trip from JFK to AMS departing December 10.

JFK to AMS:

Fully Flexible BIZ: $3191 (that is ONE WAY—gulp, says I, Ms. Coach Traveler)

Semi-Flexible BIZ: $2442 (gulp)

Restricted (which I always buy for the price point): $499 and YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION!

Returning December 16^th

During the one hour that I was checking fares, this return Restricted Fare went from $499 to $738.50, so, if you find what appears to be the best fare, book it! Still, for a total of $1237.50 for round trip, compared to a one-way BIZ ride for $3191 – and barring you can do without one meal choice and a 180 recline . . . .

BTW, prices change dependent strictly upon demand, so, if possible and you care about price, check a few dates. For the moment, there is only one flight per day between JFK and AMS, and visa versa. However, $499 is a steal of a deal and the bottom line.

For the heck of it, I went to Travelocity to check these same dates on a few other airlines. For round trip, first class prices started at $1195 (IcelandicAir) and involved a plane change in Iceland. From there, prices jumped to $3402 (BA) and hugely escalated. For business class, it was the same. For coach? Prices started at $683 (Delta) and zoomed to the high $700s+.

So, compare this to $1000-$1237.50 round trip flying comfy PREM+ with tons of room, only 64 passengers on a 757, courteous, kind, enthusiastic service from employees working for management that wants to treat you right, and yes, you have this coach travelers attention! As for you typical business class travelers, for you, this is a STEAL!

Red State or Blue State, in Which State are YOU?

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 15:55:00 +0000

Today I'm all about my Blue State. JetBlue, that is. That's because yesterday I flew JetBlue from ORD to JFK and enjoyed every on-time, leather seated, biscotti crunching moment of it. Well, aside from three fully suited up Red State employees of Delta Airlines (heretofore referred to as RED State folks because of Delta's Red Logo) who sat behind me: one pilot and two female flight attendants.

STEP INTO THE QUESTIONS IN MY HEAD:

*Why have the Delta Airlines folks crossed over?

*Why are they talking so loudly?

*Why am I ease dropping?

QUICK ANSWER: Because the flight attendants asked the pilot where he was going, and he said Amsterdam, which is where I'm flying today. However, I'm flying OpenSkies. Nonetheless, it seemed so coincidental that I immediately bonded with them. I kept this information to myself.

*Why, after the pilot asked them about their routes, is he asking them if they serve pizzas on their flights? Is he craving pizza?

For now, let's get out of my head and into their conversation, which became so intriguing--and disturbing--that I started taking notes. (Hey, I'm a trained journalist! Step AWAY from my PEN!)

The pizza questions started innocently enough, although curiously enough, then quickly morphed into a surreal grilling . These are the types of questions he threw at them.

*Do you serve pizza?

*How does it come onto the plane? (exactly what kind of packaging)

*How do you cook them on the plane?

*What, exactly, do the trays look like?

*Do you put the trays right into the oven?

Seemed there were two kinds of trays: some with rails on the sides and some with rails on the sides and backs. (I might have this slightly incorrect, but there were two types.) The flight attendants, who were now as curious as me, told him that one type of tray was used in one aircraft, and the other in another. (Get that?) "Seven fives," was often mentioned as one of the "types" of plane. My apologies: I don't speak airline speak.

BACK TO THE PILOT'S QUESTIONS:

*Who checks if you have the right type of trays on the right plane?

*Is checking that a regular part of your pre-flight?

ANSWER FROM THE FLIGHT ATTENDANTS: "The Bs" check the food." This answer was obviously coming from the As, who knew everything, but who were clearly becoming increasing weirded out by the pilot's obsession with the pizzas and pizza trays (HEL-LO! You're supposed to be FLYING!), same as me.

SIDE NOTE: Also, even though it was now only 10 AM, I was crazy for pizza.

BACK IN MY HEAD: Hm. If there's going to be blame at the end of this odd encounter, BLAME IT ON THE Bs! Way to cover yourselves, ladies!

Since I don't speak their language, I'm assuming The Bs is the second string flight attendants, whatever that means. Maybe those who have to work with coach folks like me?

Many more specific technical Q&As followed, including the exact temperatures of the ovens. The pilot's tone of voice was becoming more and more tense and his questions more accusatory--especially since one of the flight attendants offered that she'd recently received an e-mail talking about the trays and this exact distinction between aircraft and trays, and how critical it was that the right tray gets into the right plane.

*What did you do about that e-mail? (The pilot's tone shifted here. He was a four-star General and they were in the hot seat.)

ANSWER: "I remembered it, but also realized that The Bs are responsible for checking those things, and that CATERING is responsible for putting the right trays filled with those pizzas that need to be cooked onto the correct planes." (Obviously, these aren't direct quotes, but they are certainly the gist of them.)

BACK IN MY HEAD: A-HAH! CATERING did it! And, what on earth is he getting at? Are we dealing with an obsessive compulsive pilot here?

BACK TO THE PILOT:

*If you noticed that the wrong type of rack was in the plane, what would you do?"

RESPONSE: "The problem is, we can't really see them that well, especially once they're in there."

Pause ... Then one of the flight attendants finally asked, "Have you had some type of problem with the pizzas?"

BACK IN MY HEAD: Exactly!

THE BOMB FROM THE PILOT: "Yes. All the boxes of pizza caught on fire during one of my recent flights. We got it under control, but it could have been much more disastrous."

A breathtaking and breath holding moment followed.

Then the pilot began instructing rather than asking. He started with a repeat of his last question. "If you noticed that the wrong type of rack was in the plane, what would you do? And, are you checking?"

*If there was an e-mail about this, he said, there must have been other problems. It seems there is something critical here to be dealt with. "So, if you noticed the wrong tray was on your plane, what would you do?" (He did not wait for an answer.) "You should come to the pilot and say, 'We're going nowhere. We are at risk: the pizzas are in the wrong trays.'"

DELAYED QUESTION FROM FLIGHT ATTENDANTS TO THE PILOT:

*Did you have to land when you had the fire? ("No. We got the fire under control. But it could have been much worse.")

The pilot again put them through the entire drill about who looked for what, checked what, whose responsibility it was, and he wondered if CATERING got that memo. There was agreement by ALL that it was visually difficult to detect if the right trays were in the right planes.

BACK IN MY HEAD: I AM FREAKING OUT!

But one thing was clear: he was holding them entirely responsible to check what they were supposed to check; he was doing all he could to present the gravity of the situation; he wasn't happy with an email dealing with an issue that should rather be fixed (i.e., quit having cardboard or whatever involved, that, given the wrong tray in the wrong airplane, could cause a fire); he never--EVER--wanted to have it happen again. His level of frustration and concern with process and procedure spoke volumes. I hope all three of them called their superiors and chimed in about this safety risk.

BACK IN MY HEAD (scary, ey?): There is a bigger issue here: Red State or Blue State, Green State or Pink State, how about we stop beating around the bush, asking backhanded questions and pointing fingers. How about together, we face things head on, ask the hard questions, don't stop asking them until we get to the core of them, then work together to resolve them.

AND NOW, BACK TO MY BLUE STATE: This morning I received an email from JetBlue asking me to fill out a questionnaire about how they did with my flight yesterday. Seriously, I want to thank them for not serving pizza, something I never thought I'd hear myself say.

Also, I'm thinking all airlines should be sending this type of follow-up email to their pilots and flight attendants. And that corporate should be reading their responses, then acting on them.

If you know anybody who has the power to look into this type of issue, no matter WHAT airline, please send them this link.

Thank you, Blues, Reds, Greens and Pinks. For the good of the entire world, may we all play nicely together.

Calling All Travelers

charlene@charleneannbaumbich.com (Charlene Ann Baumbich) — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 20:39:00 +0000

Sometimes the "easy part" which will surely "save you money" doesn't turn out that way, on either count. Especially when it comes to technology. Case in point: international travel and staying in touch.

THE PREEMPT: If you're an ongoing globetrotter and enjoy an unlimited expense account (plus your own IT department and wads of patience), the following scenario might not ring your "I get it" bells. However, if you're self-employed or encouraged to "make due" -- especially since NBC just broke in again with today's worst-case scenario regarding the stock market -- you might relate. If you are married or often have to leave a significant other behind, you might even moan with relatability.

And now, on with the frustration!

For years, I've heard people talk about Skype. "You don't Skype?" "We use Skype all the time!" "Skype: best thing going." "I talk to my brother in Australia and it doesn't cost us a penny." "I held a video conference call for 4 hours with people all over the world and the whole thing only cost me $5 using Skype."

Nice. But I don't need to use Skype. I have a cell phone for which I already pay for so many minutes, so why not use them? I have no need to chat with people all over the world. We very happily use Vonage at home, which allows us to talk to anyone in the country (and many places out of it) for as long as we want, all for one monthly price of about thirty bucks, which includes tons of cool options. We have email, stationary and loud voices. We do not need Skype.

Then, my upcoming business trip to Amsterdam changed everything, especially my mind: My Verizon phone won't work in Amsterdam. NEW GAME!

Let us consider some of the options for staying in touch with my Dearly Beloved while I'm gone.

*The GSM Verizon phone to which I considered upgrading (I'm due for money off on an upgrade) will work there, but not here in MN where I come hide to write. (long story)

*For only six cents/minute, George can call me in AMS using our Vonage phone, but since I won't have a personal cell phone number for him to call, that just leaves my hotel rooms. Sure, we can set up times, but the 7-hour difference isn't too convenient. Plus, I don't know what my schedule will be, and I'm staying in 3 different hotels over five nights.

*Renting an international Verizon phone, which Verizon told me was an option, is Really Expensive. Trying to find out just how expensive was next to impossible. I am a long-time Verizon believer, but, Dear Verizon folks, you need to get some customer training in place to handle this query.

*Verizon offers exactly one (count them, one) Global phone that isn't a Blackberry, which I don't want. At least not right now, since I cannot justify the extra monthly fees to get my email while I'm driving, sitting in the bathroom or waiting for the show to start--although as soon as I typed those things, I thought for a moment I might need to do all of them.

*A friend encouraged me to buy a Mobal GSM world phone. According to Mobal's website, you can buy the phone for $49, get a twenty-buck credit and keep the phone "forever." (Do you know any technology that works "forever?"**) This $49 phone will not work in the US. However, you can spent $99 and buy one that does. Apparently the only other cost is for the minutes you use.

Since I'm currently (at this writing moment) stuck with dial-up in a remote location, trying to toodle around Mobal's website was head-banging. (Otherwise, it's fine.) One page automatically loaded an audio. So, everything stalled while it downloaded (or buffered, or whatever they do) audio files, and then I heard two words, then waited another thirty seconds for the next two words--until I finally noticed the link to stop it. When I called the 888 number and asked about rates etc., I learned that an AMS to AMS local call would cost $1.25 per minute. YIKES! (I am spoiled, no doubt about it.) I didn't even ask about AMS to USA, but while I was in a Wi-Fi zone in a coffee shop, I went back to Mobal.com and learned it would be $1.50 per minute. Now, were I to have an emergency, that would be a deal.

But honestly, I don't need another phone, and the regularity (or rather lack thereof) of my international travel hardly seems to make this option worth it--although I'm keeping it in my "maybe" file. But I'll have to trip my trigger soon: the woman on the phone said they ONLY deliver to the US and that I cannot buy it in AMS. (This seems contrary to what my friend told me . . . ) I'd LOVE if some of you out there who've tried Mobal would weigh in. However, since, by the time you read this, I'll be less than a week away from my trip, shipping will likely cost me another forty "overnight" bucks.

*Skype. (Ah, as the worm turns.) "Charlene, why don't you check into Skype!? You can talk to each other for FREE using your computers and Skype-to-Skype calling!"

So, I went to Skype.com and tried to educate myself about the options. Seemed do-able, although limiting. After all, I don't walk around with my laptop in a holster clip, and how would I get connected to the internet while floating down a canal anyway? But it's FREE, right?

It was easy to download Skype into my laptop. They even integrate a testing element that enables you to make sure you can be heard. Which I couldn't. Because I didn't have a microphone. So, I went thrashing through my office closet looking to see if I had one left over from "something." And I did!

It was easy to download Skype into George's desktop. He never keeps his speakers turned on, so we had to retrain for that. ("Hey, if you can't hear the ring, how will you know I'm calling?") Then I went searching for another microphone, which I found in my bag of "technical stuff" from back in the days when I recorded myself (self to self) at speaking engagements in order to produce audio tapes to sell. Which I did. (I'm out of them now, and technology and my speaking topics have moved on, so don't contact me to buy them. At least not yet. After all, I did find that bag of outdated technology**.)

Voila! Even though we put up with a little microphone squealing, George and I eventually got ourselves talking to each other, me from the living room on my laptop and he in his bedroom on his computer. HE COULD EVEN SEE ME; my laptop has a built-in web cam! Of course some of the "talking" was us yelling up or down the stairs to and at each other as I strived to give more specific instruction--like "PUT YOUR MOUTH CLOSER TO THE MICROPHONE!"

Two days later, I tried a "surprise Skype call" to George. George is a good man, a smart man, a kind man. But he had not been trained for the NEW set of icons that popped up (the others had appeared from the task bar), so he had no idea how to answer. "JUST CLICK THE ICON THAT SAYS 'ANSWER!'" Which he did. But his microphone wasn't plugged in. More yelling up the stairs, and me pointing to MY microphone in my web-cam, trying to send the right visual clue.

A week later, I tried another "surprise Skype call" to George, but this time from a Wi-Fi zone here in MN. No answer. I called him using our cell phones and learned he was outside. When he came inside, I tried again. I could see that he finally answered (the call showed CONNECTED), but I could not hear him, so I called him on my cell phone (which won't work when I'm in AMS, remember) and tried to trouble shoot. We could not figure it out. Later, he called me on my cell phone (using his cell phone) to say that he'd forgotten (and so had I) that there was an on/off switch on the microphone, which was off when I called, but now it was on, so why not, he suggested, try another "surprise" test call while he was sitting there ready for it. (sigh)

All this caused me to put ten bucks of Skype Credit into each of our FREE Skype accounts, so that we could apply it to Skype Voicemail. (Say I try to call George. He doesn't answer--or answers and I cannot hear him. So, I can leave a message saying "Life here in AMS is exciting! PLUG IN AND TURN ON YOUR MICROPHONE!" Or, say I want to make a Skype to landline call (when I don't know why I can't hear him and don't have a cell phone to trouble shoot). This isn't free, but it's really cheap. However, you have to have some pay-as-you-go Skype dollars in place, or a subscription, which, if you're searching for an alternative to making your every-day long distance calls, looks totally worth it!

Now it's clear to me that I need to also buy us each a headset. We cannot risk the frustration of being "connected" yet unable to talk. These, we can just plug in ("Leave it plugged in, George") and then we won't have to worry about switches and hearing, squealing speakers and whatever else might crop up. (Notice the two places I used the **? Why would I complain about Mobal's "forever" implication, then think my own outdated equipment would work properly "forever?")

So, twenty bucks for Skype dollars in our accounts, more money for headsets, money to the hotel for a high-speed internet connection, and perhaps the Mobal investment -- just in case all else fails.

Easy. Free. Cheap.

Maybe.

Not.