Thursday, December 08, 2005
Mobile Home
Have you missed me?
I've had too little time to post the last couple weeks, mostly because my employer has sent me to Mobile, Alabama, to run a little data warehousing project phase at a client site there. I've either been in transit, or frantically trying to catch up with all the administrative crap project managers are responsible for producing to write a post. But y'all deserve to hear at least a little bit about it. Really, it's fascinating.
Here's how I wound up here. One day, around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, the Project Manager from my old project came into my office and asked me if I was interested in a PM role on a short data warehousing project. "Sure," I said. "Meet me in my office in five minutes," she said, and ran off. That gave me a couple minutes to read the Wikipedia article on "Data Warehousing." Thus fully debriefed with a vast knowledge of data warehousing, I joined the PM in her office for a conference call to a desperate service area manager who was looking for someone -- anyone who could breathe -- to take on this project. "I'm your man!," I offered enthusiastically. To emphasize my qualifications, I took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then slowly let it out. "Then we need you in Mobile tomorrow for a 1 o'clock kickoff meeting," said the SAM (whom I have still, to this day, never met in person).
But getting to Mobile from Raleigh can be a nightmare. By eight o'clock, with the assistance of a marginally-competent American Express Travel consultant in, I think, Calcutta, I was able to book a flight from RDU that got me in early enough to attend the kickoff meeting. But that flight left RDU for Atlanta at 5:50 am. Ugh.
Still, I was too excited / nervous to sleep, so waking up at 3:30 wasn't a problem -- it never is when you're not asleep to begin with. I dusted off my suit and a tie and got myself all dolled up with plenty of time to drive to the airport.
I parked my car at 5:15. I was cutting it close, sure, but that early in the morning security is usually a breeze (because, you know, nobody's there yet). I didn't have any baggage to check -- all I needed to do was check in. The Amex agent said she booked me on a Delta/Northwest code share, so I stood in line for a couple minutes to use the Delta kiosk. I ran my credit card through -- no dice. Must be a Northwest flight out of RDU. I hustled over to the Northwest area, then waited to use one of their kiosks. Slid my credit card through... nothing. There was just one guy behind the counter, and he was busy checking bags for a sherpa family headed to Timbuktu. When he finally finished, I asked him about my reservation. Tap tap tap. "Nothing here. You don't have a reservation on Northwest."
Furious, and quickly running out of time, I went back to the Delta desk. That (one, of course -- the airlines don't really staff the counters anymore, especially not that early in the morning) guy was checking bags for a Khazakstani family of seven who were traveling to the old country to sell what, by my cursory count, appeared to be hundreds of pairs of used Levis. And two bicycles. And a set of golf clubs.
Finally, I got to the front of the line. Tap tap tap on the keyboard. Tap tap tap. "Bill Purdy?," he asked, as he ripped the boarding passes from his machine. "You had better run," he said, sounding exactly like Rip Taylor as he smirked at me. I half expected him to toss confetti my way. It was 5:34. Sixteen minutes to make my flight.
(Turns out the problem was with my profile at American Express, which had me as "Bill Purdy." Therefore, my reservations were made in that name. The credit cards I swiped at the kiosks say "William Purdy." So, no match.)
I ran. I began to sweat. Damn this heat! Damn my fat, out of shape self! I got to security.
Damn this extraordinarily long line!
It took ten minutes to get through security. Apparently (and unbeknownst to me, as RDU is still a new airport to me), lots of flights leave RDU around 6 am, because many of the airlines overnight their aircraft there. That means lots of people were in line to have their shoes inspected.
By the time I got to the gate, my flight was backing away from it.
Not 13 hours on this new project, and I had already missed a flight to work. Wonderful. And there was no other way for me to get to Mobile in time for the kickoff meeting. Great way to make a first impression!
There is, of course, more to the story. Eventually, I made it to Mobile, though I have had two endure two flight cancellations in the two weeks I've traveled there. Hotels are in extremely short supply there because of the influx of workers cleaning up after Hurricane Katrina, so I have had to stay in properties that are, shall I say, a bit lacking in amenities. But my colleague and SME on the project could not be a cooler guy, and the client staff seem quite interested in making our work easier (rather than harder, as many clients feel it is their responsibility to do).
Mobile is surprisingly nice -- the historic downtown district (where I work) is chock full of renovated and currently-being-renovated attractive old buildings. Stately live oaks line most of the streets. Restaurants are good and in abundant supply. They are even in the process of building a large 50-story skyscraper downtown -- a sign of economic prosperity that is rare in most similar-sized American cities. If I have any complaint, it's that the traffic engineers have devised some strange system of frontage roads where access to and from the main road is via numerous byways that require folks on the frontage roads to constantly yield to traffic merging from the main roads. This means Yield signs are everywhere, and it's often unclear to whom they apply -- the folks on the main road, or the folks on the frontage road. I'm surprised I haven't seen more accidents, especially with the amount of visitors who, like me, seem utterly perplexed by the unfamiliar rules dictated by this arrangement.
Ah, but that's a minor complaint. Things are fine here, really. I'll try to post more often from now on.
I've had too little time to post the last couple weeks, mostly because my employer has sent me to Mobile, Alabama, to run a little data warehousing project phase at a client site there. I've either been in transit, or frantically trying to catch up with all the administrative crap project managers are responsible for producing to write a post. But y'all deserve to hear at least a little bit about it. Really, it's fascinating.
Here's how I wound up here. One day, around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, the Project Manager from my old project came into my office and asked me if I was interested in a PM role on a short data warehousing project. "Sure," I said. "Meet me in my office in five minutes," she said, and ran off. That gave me a couple minutes to read the Wikipedia article on "Data Warehousing." Thus fully debriefed with a vast knowledge of data warehousing, I joined the PM in her office for a conference call to a desperate service area manager who was looking for someone -- anyone who could breathe -- to take on this project. "I'm your man!," I offered enthusiastically. To emphasize my qualifications, I took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then slowly let it out. "Then we need you in Mobile tomorrow for a 1 o'clock kickoff meeting," said the SAM (whom I have still, to this day, never met in person).
But getting to Mobile from Raleigh can be a nightmare. By eight o'clock, with the assistance of a marginally-competent American Express Travel consultant in, I think, Calcutta, I was able to book a flight from RDU that got me in early enough to attend the kickoff meeting. But that flight left RDU for Atlanta at 5:50 am. Ugh.
Still, I was too excited / nervous to sleep, so waking up at 3:30 wasn't a problem -- it never is when you're not asleep to begin with. I dusted off my suit and a tie and got myself all dolled up with plenty of time to drive to the airport.
I parked my car at 5:15. I was cutting it close, sure, but that early in the morning security is usually a breeze (because, you know, nobody's there yet). I didn't have any baggage to check -- all I needed to do was check in. The Amex agent said she booked me on a Delta/Northwest code share, so I stood in line for a couple minutes to use the Delta kiosk. I ran my credit card through -- no dice. Must be a Northwest flight out of RDU. I hustled over to the Northwest area, then waited to use one of their kiosks. Slid my credit card through... nothing. There was just one guy behind the counter, and he was busy checking bags for a sherpa family headed to Timbuktu. When he finally finished, I asked him about my reservation. Tap tap tap. "Nothing here. You don't have a reservation on Northwest."
Furious, and quickly running out of time, I went back to the Delta desk. That (one, of course -- the airlines don't really staff the counters anymore, especially not that early in the morning) guy was checking bags for a Khazakstani family of seven who were traveling to the old country to sell what, by my cursory count, appeared to be hundreds of pairs of used Levis. And two bicycles. And a set of golf clubs.
Finally, I got to the front of the line. Tap tap tap on the keyboard. Tap tap tap. "Bill Purdy?," he asked, as he ripped the boarding passes from his machine. "You had better run," he said, sounding exactly like Rip Taylor as he smirked at me. I half expected him to toss confetti my way. It was 5:34. Sixteen minutes to make my flight.
(Turns out the problem was with my profile at American Express, which had me as "Bill Purdy." Therefore, my reservations were made in that name. The credit cards I swiped at the kiosks say "William Purdy." So, no match.)
I ran. I began to sweat. Damn this heat! Damn my fat, out of shape self! I got to security.
Damn this extraordinarily long line!
It took ten minutes to get through security. Apparently (and unbeknownst to me, as RDU is still a new airport to me), lots of flights leave RDU around 6 am, because many of the airlines overnight their aircraft there. That means lots of people were in line to have their shoes inspected.
By the time I got to the gate, my flight was backing away from it.
Not 13 hours on this new project, and I had already missed a flight to work. Wonderful. And there was no other way for me to get to Mobile in time for the kickoff meeting. Great way to make a first impression!
There is, of course, more to the story. Eventually, I made it to Mobile, though I have had two endure two flight cancellations in the two weeks I've traveled there. Hotels are in extremely short supply there because of the influx of workers cleaning up after Hurricane Katrina, so I have had to stay in properties that are, shall I say, a bit lacking in amenities. But my colleague and SME on the project could not be a cooler guy, and the client staff seem quite interested in making our work easier (rather than harder, as many clients feel it is their responsibility to do).
Mobile is surprisingly nice -- the historic downtown district (where I work) is chock full of renovated and currently-being-renovated attractive old buildings. Stately live oaks line most of the streets. Restaurants are good and in abundant supply. They are even in the process of building a large 50-story skyscraper downtown -- a sign of economic prosperity that is rare in most similar-sized American cities. If I have any complaint, it's that the traffic engineers have devised some strange system of frontage roads where access to and from the main road is via numerous byways that require folks on the frontage roads to constantly yield to traffic merging from the main roads. This means Yield signs are everywhere, and it's often unclear to whom they apply -- the folks on the main road, or the folks on the frontage road. I'm surprised I haven't seen more accidents, especially with the amount of visitors who, like me, seem utterly perplexed by the unfamiliar rules dictated by this arrangement.
Ah, but that's a minor complaint. Things are fine here, really. I'll try to post more often from now on.
posted by Bill Purdy, 8:05 AM
1 Buffaloes were bitter enough to post comments:
I wish you would post more often - this was brilliant! Any time you can include a sherpa AND a Rip Taylor reference, well, let's just say nobody has ever done that!