Number 145

Somewhere up around Channel 300-something on basic cable, Neil Patrick Harris is still child-prodigy Dougie Howser, MD. At the end of each show, Dougie would sit down at his computer and, in two or three sentences, sum up the moral of the story. I was always impressed by that. It was an online journal...a log, if you will. On the worldwide web, it became a web log and then was eventually shortened to simply a blog.

In this, the 145th edition of whatever you want to call these missives that I've been posting for almost eight years, I'm still searching for the moral of the story. Today's blogs are mostly reiterations of basic business principles or lists of five or ten things that the author has learned or discovered from his or her vast corporate or start-up background. Some time ago, I made the decision not to jump into this myriad of wisdom-filled ramblings. I enjoy much more taking a look at the world around us and relating pieces of my life that at least contribute to the search for a moral to the story.  It's not business.  It's personal.

These and all my social postings do not go to the "public at large". I doubt the world cares much about little ol' me. "Friends" has become a very loose term online for many today but I do try to keep track of who receives my writings. And I'm always quick to say that the delete key is only an inch away, should you have no interest in the subject...or me.

As 2015 comes to a close, travel has been on my mind.  Year-end is a big travel season and, throughout my life, it has been consumed by travel. To a great degree, travel has been a means to an end. Culture, sport and art have all influenced my personality and the exposure that travel offers to the differences in all of us brings a richness to life that is hard to find any other way.

That said, travel is not what it used to be but it's still there. We may have to take more care in how and where we travel.  But that experience, whether it's for business or pleasure, close to home or thousands of miles away, makes us more aware of those around us who look at the world differently than we do. And, with a little effort, we may learn to, at least, understand why they think the way they do.

Travel has found friends for me in places I had never been before.  Some of those people don't speak the same language. Some don't have the same ideals. Some have a spiritual way to live life that is most enviable. Some have shown me that catching a fish symbolizes all the challenges we face.

Travel has allowed me to witness history when Nelson Mandela was elected president of South Africa and when Phil Ershler became the first American to climb Mt. Everest from the Chinese North side. I've listened to Mozart Symphonies in the Salzburg town square and I've watched a sushi chef pound a ten-penny nail into the head of a live eel, immediately cut a filet out of the fish's side and offer it to me on the end of the knife. There's no hesitation. You just eat it (chewy!).

When I sat next to Thor Heyerdahl at dinner in a small french village, all the adventurer, who sailed 8000 km across the Pacific Ocean on a raft, wanted to talk about was Seattle and the Space Needle. Travel makes you curious.  And I just keep getting curiouser and cursiouser. The mode of travel is what is causing most concerns today. Travel by air, train and auto all have their dangers.  Even cycling and walking are hazardous in some locales. I can't stop though.  I'm not afraid. I'm cautious and aware but the value is too high to refrain from it.

Just a few days ago, Jane and I were walking a remote beach in the Hawaiian Islands when we encountered another couple. We wanted to trade photos of each other with our cell phones.  In what was good English in my mind, the gentleman told me they were French but he thought he understood.  We traded phones and took pictures of each other. I pulled out my pidgin French from the recesses of my mind and told them we were from Seattle. They nodded "oui" to the reference,

Then I ventured on to try and say that we had flown a huge French flag on top of the Space Needle after the Paris terrorist attack.  Again they nodded and said they were from Paris. Finally I said we had the French Consul deliver that flag to the president of the Eiffel Tower just a week before. After a moment of thought, the reply with a smile was "Nous avons vu le drapeau a Paris...Merci beau coup." (We saw the flag in Paris.  Thank you very much.)

That is why travel means so much to me.  I would not trade that experience for anything. I hope that 2016 brings good health and happiness to all of us. And that our world becomes a more peaceful and safe place. Travel will definitely be in my future and I hope it's in yours. Keep on, keeping on. And look out for Number 146.

3,000,000 miles on Company Time

A few days ago, I went to the far reaches of Glacier Bay National Park in Alaska to pick up some mountain climbers. The Alaska Airlines flight on that trip put me over the 3 million mile mark in air miles traveled since joining the DDB family 15 years ago this year. That’s a lot of time in the air in memory of Bill Bernbach and the boys.

3 million air miles can be expressed in a lot of ways.

It’s 120 trips around the world. It’s 6 trips to the moon and back. It’s 6000 hours, 36 weeks or 8 1/3 months in the air.

For me, it was 21 different airlines, including Comanche, Red Dog and Flying Moose Air. It was 8 real trips around the world, following sailboats; 20 trips to China; it was touching down on all seven continents and staying on 6 of them. It was crash-diving in a small twin-engine plane over Chicago to get the ice off the wings after take-off. It was landing on the semi-frozen Bering Sea with only one float working during the spring thaw. It was staring across the aisle at the dead guy with a blanket over his head all the way from New York to Chicago before they could remove the body. It was watching Jack Nicholson across the way do that eye-brow thing at the two ladies looking at him, then tipping up his sunglasses and saying, “Yeah, it’s me.” It was riding CAC from the middle of China to Tibet with several chickens and one small pig running loose on board. And more.

Since 9/11, flying has become a whole new ballgame and with that have come a whole new set of experiences. Having the TSA people know your name or at least recognize you can become sort of creepy. And then there is my now-famous “razor blade in the sport coat” encounter which got me almost arrested and permanently into Nordstrom’s company-wide tailoring guidelines. That even made for a whole column in the daily newspaper. Reader’s Digest was sort of the ultimate when they called me a “true frequent flyer” as the lead in a cover story about amassing airmiles and how they get used.

These are only miles that I can actually track over the past few years through frequent flyer records. My routes are so erratic that I can’t fly on just one or two airlines, although between Delta, American and United, I’m holding close to half a million right now. My annual miles increased with world travel since the 1990’s but I can’t remember a year that I haven’t done 100,000.

My personal record is fall 1994 to fall 1995 when I came in just shy of 300,000 miles. The quickest long trip was Seattle to London, London to New York (on the Concorde); New York to Las Vegas; Vegas to Nome; Nome to Chicago; Chicago to New York; New York to Seattle—in ten days.
I’ve traveled in every job I’ve ever had. My first boss handed me a ticket to St. Louis the day I started work and I was off to a meeting. You get to know the routine and the little tricks pretty well. There’s the friend who told me he discovered that simply leaving your car on the departures level at the airport when you’re in a rush costs you less to pay the towing on your return than the normal parking fees. I must admit I can’t talk myself into trying that one.

I’ve had every kind of food imaginable on board; much that was undistinguishable. Chinese and Russian national airlines take the cake—actually, there was nothing there that even tasted like cake. I have all the sleep booties, masks and collapsible toothbrushes I can ever use. And, I’ve found out the hard way that on-board duty-free purchases, with very few exceptions, are far from the best prices available.

What’s the best airline? I’m often asked. There used to be definable differences between major airlines. With deregulation and more of a focus on price, those differences have gone by the wayside. Some of the international airlines, like Thai and Swiss Air, do a great job on specific routes but overall I would have to say British Airways gets the top award in my book. Their coach section is called “World Traveler” and they make you feel like one. Even on their flights within England, you get white glove service.

Once, when I was traveling with a client, we both tried to upgrade to business class at the ticket counter. Due to a computer glitch, I thought he had made it and I had not. What really happened was that the entire plane, except for First Class, filled up with his request. First class opened just long enough to take my reservation then closed again. I rode from Seattle to London as the only first class passenger on British Air. What a way to go. The flight attendant greeted me with “Mr. McConnell, we’ll be traveling together to London. Please just let me know if there is anything you need.”

Do I like traveling? It has just become second nature. When it’s for business, all the airports, rental cars, taxis, hotels and meeting rooms begin to look the same. When it’s personal travel, it can be an adventure to a new place. But when it does get old, and it does get old, one thing gets me through it. Unless she’s traveling with me, my wife is always waiting here when I return. There is absolutely no place like home.

Posted by Dan McConnell on July 7, 2008 5:54 PM Permalink