12

You know that new show on FOX called 24? Well today I had my own mission. I had to drive to Rhode Island, install a network firewall and configure two terminal emulators and then drive back to New Jersey in 12 hours. Could I do it? Well, yeah, apparently I could. And unlike Keifer's show, my real-life mission actually did take place in real-time.

The first component to having a successful mission is good planning. I have learned from previous trips to Rhode Island that if I don't get across the George Washington Bridge by 7:00 AM, I should turn around, because it will take me 4 days just to get into Connecticut. I live about 30 miles from the Bridge so it should take about 40 minutes to get there. If I figure in a safety net of another 20 minutes, I should really leave my house at 6:00 AM. Ah, here is where good planning comes in. I would need about 4 hours in RI to get everything installed, configured, and tested. So if I left my house at 6, I would get to our location in RI at about 10 AM. That would have me leaving at around 2 PM which means I would be passing through the New York Metropolitan area at about 5:15 on a Friday night. "Ha", I hear you chortle, "only a fool would attempt that!" I am no fool (at least, in this instance) and choose another option.

It was time to plan my mission backwards. When did I want to get home? Ideally, I wanted to be back at about 4:30 PM. This was still pushing it because rush hour starts early on Fridays around here. Well, that means leaving around 5:00 AM. Truly a mission impossible. But what the heck, I'd give it a try. I set my alarm for 4:45 figuring that I'd need a couple of snoozes to get going. But a strange thing happened. I woke up -wide awake- at 4:36. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth (actually, not looking at much of anything because it is so dark at that time of the morning) I got up and out of the house.

I was up so early that I actually got a hot bagel, fresh from the oven of my usual bagel store. I was totally unprepared for this and thus learned a very important lesson. Butter that touches a hot bagel instantly turns into a yellowish-clear, slippery, pain-inflicting liquid. It's true. I'm used to my butter (and my bagel) being a colder, more solid, type of food. If I ever (ha!) get to the bagel store that early again, I'll be sure to look out for this. I then experienced a even stranger phenomenon. You may have never heard of it because it is so rare. It's called "no traffic at the toll booths to the George Washington Bridge". It's kinda like the aurora borealis, except much, much rarer. Away I zipped into the pre-dawn darkness. I made it to our office into Rhode Island at about 8:30.

Did my work (successfully, I might add) in about 4 hours and 20 minutes. That means I'm already late! I left the local gas station at 12:50 armed with 2 diet cokes, a chocolate chip cookie dough Power Bar, and a package of honey roasted cashews. I was ready. Rhode Island and most of Connecticut were a blur. Then I started to remember my drive up this morning. For some reason, I remembered that a stretch of the Cross Bronx Expressway (or just I-95 - I'm a little fuzzy on where the Expressway starts/ends) had the right lane blocked off. The question was would it still be blocked off in the afternoon. This set off that horrible feeling of "exit indecision". Have you ever had that? Do I continue on or get off and try a different way? You're driving along and you know the exit is coming. Do I stay or do I go? Every miles brings you closer to forcing your decision. And no matter what choice you make, you are sure in the pit of your stomach, you've made the wrong decision. At the last minute, I veered right and took 287 over to the Tappan Zee Bridge. I'll never know what the situation was leading to the GWB, but I know that I zipped right through Westchester and Rockland Counties to drop down in my beloved New Jersey. I was at my door at 4:36 PM - exactly 12 hours from when I woke up.

In other news, it is my Dad's birthday today. He is 78 years old today. My parents don't do much to celebrate their birthdays anymore. I guess once you've had 77 of them, it gets to be old hat. Personally, I'm going to celebrate the heck out of every one I have over 60. Who knows how many I'll have left. Here's a weird story about my dad. I may have told this one before, but since it's my journal, tough luck, read it again!

My dad played baseball for Texas Tech in the early 1940s. Upperclassmen on his team were talking about what they were going to do when they graduated. They were talking about joining the Navy. This group ended up joining the Navy. They all managed to get stationed together. Stationed together in Pearl Harbor. Stationed together on the U.S.S. Arizona. Thankfully, dear old dad was celebrating his birthday somewhere else 60 years ago today day. I remember matching up the names of from the Arizona to my dad's yearbook. It was kinda creepy that it happened on my dad's birthday.