Military discipline

Nothing like spending the day on an airplane, only to find that nothing of significance has happened in the world while you were incommunicado.

So, I'm in Washington, or Pentagon City, VA, to be more exact. The Army has kindly put us up at the Ritz here, so I'm enjoying my usual moment of dissonance wherein I place my one tiny little bag (they took my "gay" yellow suitcase [thanks, commenter] and "palletized" it, which means loaded it onto the cargo jet) in the corner, sit in the desk chair in my luxuriously appointed room, and marvel at how strange business travel is.

First, though, I got a taste of military life. I was relieved to discover that I didn't screw up any of the first steps -- my bag made it under 50 pounds, it arrived promptly at baggage claim, I found the driver just fine. Dick, the gentleman driving me, filled me in on all sorts of facts and figures about our first destination, Fort Myer here in Virginia. I was only on the base for maybe half an hour total -- once we got through security, I found Al sitting on a sidewalk telling someone he'd lost his phone charger, which made me feel instantly at home, and then it was WHOOSH into the Army band rehearsal hall. I dropped off my luggage, shook some hands, was fitted for a flak jacket (which is maybe the heaviest thing I've ever put around my neck), received some Army/USO swag, and then WHOOSH I was out the door and on the van to the hotel with Al and the Cowboys cheerleaders.

More later. Now I go to plug in various electronic equipment and steal toiletries.