April 30
Apparently, my cab driver is a telepath and knows I’m not a morning person, speaking only when necessary. I leave him almost 20$ tip, just because.
Lineup at US customs at the airport is long, but I expected
that and woke up at 4am to make sure to make it for my 8h45 flight. Others in
the queue obviously did not, and more than a few actually leave the lineup as
they become aware that there is no way they’re going to make their flight in
time.
I meet up with my coworker Raymond, as we're travelling together to share some insight on Easy Vista (incident management software) with our fellow IT guys and gals in Ashdown, Arkansas. We grab breakfast at the Montreal airport's Houston restaurant where a server gracefully takes our order and caters to us with a most cultivated aloofness bordering on disdain.
Flight is bumpy, which I did not expect from a 737, but I
blame it on the storm front that the US has been dealing with these days. Aisle
seat. Nice. Almost next to washroom in the back. Less nice. In flight movie was
Frozen, so opted to not hear about wanting to build snowmen in song form and
just occasionally watched the pretty colors on the screen as I napped and read
books / comics from my Note 3. Note to self: avoid comics with violent or
sexual imagery, like the Preacher series, when in public. Awkward when you don't expect it.
Lunch / snack in Dallas at TGI Friday’s as Raymond and I await our regional flight to Texarkana. I almost don’t make it on the flight as
my name does not appear on their list, despite me having the boarding pass
right in my hand. I forfeit my awesome solo seat on the left side of the plane for one reassigned to me:
the last one in the back right next to the washroom again. Seat can’t recline.
My back is starting to really hate me now. Good thing the flight is only about 45 minutes (which means an hour and a half in plane language).
Off the plane in Texarkana, greeted thankfully by Raymond’s
luggage. We celebrate by meeting up with Martin (a telecom specialist from our office already on site) by heading out to the Texas Roadhouse, after a short visit
to the hotel first. He's been raving about the place and we're invading it tonight.
Randy (IT supervisor in Ashdown) joins us a little later and we “steak it up”.
Easily one of the best steaks I have ever eaten in my life, and I’ve eaten a
few. This place must be visited if you’re in the area. Must. I could not finish
my plate. Seriously.
We briefly stop at Target’s drugstore section afterwards for
some necessities, then back to hotel, where I’m enjoying the sweet suite size
of the room (alliteration ftw).
Ignore discarded pants
in this picture, like they themselves were ignored .5 seconds after locking the
hotel room door.
Shower, chat with wifey a bit but I’m interrupting either
Arrow or CSI so only the bare minimum is exchanged. I watch a little History or
Discovery channel - I can't tell which is which since they both feature reenactments of events that have only a tangential connection to their channel names - before finally dozing off.
Day 1
…and then waking up abruptly at 4am again. I double check my
alarm (set for 5h30 am, because in Ashdown they like to start working in the
middle of the night – also known as 7am). I’m awakened again and this time am
much less aware of my surroundings. I start getting dressed, then head out to
brush my teeth, make sure my laptop bag is complete with the essentials, then
start the cycle over again as I realize I’m still not dressed. I’m late meeting
up with the guys downstairs and grab a coffee on the way out. I can’t really
handle more food anyhow. Martin Goudreau is showing us the way to the Ashdown
mill.
The scenery is still gorgeous and the ride only takes about
20-25 minutes.
Sun appearing over the horizon, or as I call it the “ass crack of dawn”
Speeding by a field of
pillow fluff, escaped from my too short sleep, I'm guessing
We get acquainted with some of the IT staff here who, I’m
guessing, sleep on site given the hour at which they greet us. There is also
coffee here, so no one needs to get hurt.
I connect to a local printer and start reviewing the
training info, having chatted with Randy the night before start re-establishing
the basics for what I’ll present. Offering training isn't part of my normal job description, but creating a rapport with the Ashdown IT staff is also part of my presence there and will benefit my department greatly.
Since one staff member is on vacation this
week and another has asked for Friday off, we agree to postpone the actual
training until the following week, which suits everyone just fine. I’ll have
time to target the training better, and Raymond will have had 2 full days to
spend with Melissa, who will be considered a remote worker in his Service Desk department, so she can even start filling in some tickets for us to use
in the real world.
Lunch is spent at Big
Jake’s Bar-b-que, despite hunger not being entirely present. I may die down
here. I take a “junior” plate which I struggle with, but is very tasty.
Early afternoon is spent fighting a coma, and meeting with
the IT staff that is available to introduce ourselves, explain our purpose
there and exchange ideas on how the Service Desk and PC Support will be able to assist them in
their daily operations – even after hours. There is an interest in trying new
things which is very encouraging for us.
I retreat back to the office Martin is sharing with me while
Raymond heads back to Melissa’s desk. I track down a few pieces of information
I’ll be able to share with the Ashdown crew, answering some of their questions concerning the software.
This blog entry gets created, while I affectionately consider our
evening meal which will be a little easier on everyone – while also being a
throwback to my own childhood before they all disappeared from Québec years ago – with a
visit to Red Lobster.
No one being particularly hungry, we opt to go sightseeing a bit as Martin wants to snap some pictures of the post office where the Texas and Arkansas lines meet. On the way over to said location, he takes a detour to show us the Arkansas “Domtar house”, where we could have been staying.
Day 2
Weekend*
XXXXXXXXXXXX ourselves in the XXXX and start looking for XXXXXXXX to purchase, because reasons.
After a few times around the Boardwalk, we are a little disappointed at not
being able to find any. Opting for a break, we XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX for a XXXXXXXXXXXX Hooters. We don’t get
kicked out.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX each!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX statutes of limitations XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX no proof.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Luminol™,
but using bleach XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
No one being particularly hungry, we opt to go sightseeing a bit as Martin wants to snap some pictures of the post office where the Texas and Arkansas lines meet. On the way over to said location, he takes a detour to show us the Arkansas “Domtar house”, where we could have been staying.
Huge grill. Multiple deck
levels. Artificial lake. Superb location for just popping a few cold ones
looking out over the water as the sun sets. If there is a next time, we’ll know
to mention that this actually exists.
If this doesn’t scream
out “pants optional”, I don’t know what does.
The post office itself is a historical location:
Sign in front displays
the exact location of the intersection between Texas and Arkansas
After a brief stop in a local camera shop where Martin showed
the shopkeeper a thing or two about photography, we head out to Red Lobster.
My recollection of this franchise was almost perfect, save
for the fact that the menu had probably been improved multiple times over the
course of the years. Clam chowder (excellent, with a creamy texture perfectly
balanced in thickness) followed by Chesapeake Shrimp: Tender shrimp, andouille
sausage and red potatoes with sweet roasted bell peppers, onions and corn on
the cob, baked in our signature Chesapeake butter sauce. Not overly heavy, but
enough that I skipped dessert.
Martin opted to go spend the evening in a nearby park,
possibly snap some shots, while Raymond and I pursued another goal: to find
adult libations the respectable gentlemen we are deserve to imbibe.
So of course, our first stop was Walmart.
Tourist Trivia: Texas is comprised of a mixture of “dry” and
“wet” counties. Since we are residing in a dry county, we have to “cross the
street” known as State Line Drive to purchase alcohol.
We scour the Walmart for a bit, evaluating the potency of a
caisse of 30 Miller Genuine Drafts and establish it to be akin to that of a
Canadian 6-pack. We’ll split that one over the weekend, most likely. I also
pick up a selection of 6 different Shiner brews, for giggles. I also get some
scissors.
We head out, after shopping for a few souvenir t-shirts, to
the liquor store nearby. Aptly named “Tom’s Jug House”, a veritable shack
located in the middle of a parking lot. No regrets.
I find the elusive “something” I’ll be taking back home with
me; a 350ml bottle of moonshine-that-can’t-be-called-moonshine named Arkansas
Lightning. I was to learn later that this 125 proof blindness inducer actually
won gold medals and is considered one of the best around. Yay. Also, a Fat Tire
and a Dogzilla Black IPA manage to sneak into my bags.
Retiring to our rooms, I use my brand new scissors to
carefully cut along the dotted lines of the replacement Dr. School’s insoles
for my work boots, and not-so-carefully use them again to pop open the Fat Tire
Amber Belgian Ale. I can’t take them back with me anyhow, so I care about their
condition about as much as I care for hip hop, which is to say I’m developing a
strong dislike to them.
Pleasantries are exchanged with my wife over Google
Hangouts, a shower is taken, some reality show about recovering fugitives
captures my attention for long enough for me to start asking myself just what
the heck I think I’m doing, and bedtime comes around.
Day 2
I wake up a few times during the night again, but I’m coming
around to thinking it may be because I didn’t bring my CPAP machine. Don’t tell
my wife. She was nagging for me to take it along and I refused with all the
virility I could muster. I don’t think she could handle learning she was right
on this point.
With adequate awareness of my surroundings I make my way
downstairs to meet up with Raymond and have a little breakfast. I opt for a
Texas omelet and a Texas shaped waffle I cook myself in the appropriately
shaped griddle, because why the hell not.
Ah reckon’ this here waffle
dun’ did deserve what it got, which is eaten
Onwards to Ashdown for a day of printing out copies of Easy
Vista documentation and prepping it up for the IT staff. The day is rather calm
and uneventful in my case, but I offer moral support when Raymond discovers
that the Service Desk phone is not functioning as expected, and Martin is
double-checking everything on this side. It turns out that they do get one
system working, at least partially, but there are other issues left to be
resolved.
Lunch is had at Herp’s today: fried chicken, white gravy,
corn. I immediately feel the aftereffects, and again a few times more during
the afternoon.
Still feeling a little queasy from that lunch, Martin
proposes to try Copeland’s for dinner, and I make the newbie mistake of
assuming that their pre-dinner cocktails will be sized for humans. Ha.
There would be room
enough for 4-5 goldfish to live comfortably in there
Since the occasion may never arise again, I try an appetizer
of alligator meat served with a sweet chili dipping sauce. Tasted like chicken.
No, really.
The rest of the evening is spent saying our goodbyes to
Martin, who is heading out to Dallas in the morning, and we retire to our rooms
for some intense relaxation.
Weekend*
Breakfast at Denny’s, and then
road trip. We decide to XXXXXXXXXXXX in Shreveport, Louisiana, if only to brag about having
been in in 3 different states in one day.
The drive up is smooth and uneventful. The scenery is more
rural, and Raymond catches a glimpse of a herd of buffaloes.
Abandoned motel on 71
south. We didn’t hear any screams coming from it and you can't make us say otherwise.
Roaming
Private oil drill in a
field. One of many.
We find our way to Shreveport’s Boardwalk, where we fully intended to XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
some XXXXXXXXXXXX in the XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. Yolo.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
We’re not particularly
hungry, and wondering if the XXXXXXXXXXXX can be traced back to us, so we decide to split
out of there. Those XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX will never know who really XXXXXXXXXX dead, and we’re not XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX jail. XXXX that!
On the way back, we stopped for a quick bite at Popeye’s
Louisiana style Fried Chicken, like everything was normal.
Normal. Everything’s extremely normal. Except that biscuit. Shady as hell, that one.
The following day, Sunday, nothing happened and if you heard
anything about us being in Oklahoma, it isn’t true.
We had excellent service at the Olive Garden that night.
Raymond used the uneaten part of the pizza he had left to bribe the hotel
receptionist in advance, as he’s had WIFI connection trouble and might have need
of her assistance later on. Apparently accepting food from random strangers is an acceptable behavior here.
*Redacted to protect the not-so-innocent
Day 3
It’s hot here.
Sunday temps reached 32c. Today is 29c.
The only thing that saved us from a heatstroke yesterday was
a cool breeze of unknown origin, and Miller Genuine Draft. There is a serious
lack of one, or more, of those items today.
Breakfast at hotel, then head out to Ashdown.
Raymond continues his training of his new department recruit, despite the setbacks
with the phones and the bugs he’s discovering in our ticketing software's new version while
I try to catch up on some due reports – only to discover that the BES 5 server
is acting up. I submit a ticket and keep reviewing my training notes.
Lunch at Subway, with Melissa, Pam and Randy. We reminisce
about sad end user anecdotes we have had in the past. We stop before alcohol becomes mandatory.
Randy accompanies me to the training room they have: projector,
about a dozen workstations for training.
Perfect. I’ll be in at 7am again to prep the room and get
set up to start for 7:30.
Afternoon concludes. Ray and I retire to the hotel for a bit
before going out for dinner. Besides the Olive Garden, Outback Steakhouse is
also within easy walking distance of the hotel so it’s our target for tonight.
Great atmosphere, great service, great food. I scarf down a pork porterhouse
while Raymond feasts on the prime rib. Magnifique. I even manage to pack down a
slice of their cheesecake.
Corvette reunion outside
Outback Steakhouse. Also known as “We can’t park between lines and doubt our
manliness” reunion.
Still,
I’m a little jealous. Our hotel is visible in the background.
Day 4
I forgot to mention the approx. 45oz (1.35l) of beer that
accompanied the aforementioned porterhouse. It doesn’t forget me though, and I spend the
night alternating between the bed and the washroom. I never would have guessed
that converting beer into urine just about quadrupled the output quantity. I’ve
quite definitely had better mornings, in terms of quality. This actually feels like 2 mornings are ganging up on me.
Neither Ray nor I have much of an appetite right now, so we take
a few bites, down coffee and next thing you know we’re in Ashdown.
Training goes well. Nothing overly dramatic or spectacular
but I do try to zone in on the weak spots FSTs (Field Service Technicians) encounter most often: poorly
documented worklogs when transferring tickets or assigning actions, and overly
complex resolutions intended for the requesting user.
The training concludes just before 10am and I note a few
requests / questions that have come up for later analysis. I leave them with
our one-page cheat sheets, and my coordinates in case they need assistance
before Ray and I return to Montreal, and afterwards as well.
Lunch is taken at McDonald’s, because what happens in
Ashdown, stays in Ashdown, and we've just given up now. Also: effective, tasty comfort food.
I write up a little more of this blog, and keep an eye out
on the ticket queue.
The combination of warm weather and burger digestion
launches a desperate attack against my wakefulness this afternoon, which I am
proud to say I win by pushing it back with coffee and Coca-Cola, despite the
relative gaseous side effect the combination of these weapons leaves behind.
Day 5
Stuff happened, then we eventually found our way back to Montreal.
It's a blur where one can't quite taste the numbers nor see the shapes of the colors properly, so we won't mention it.
Except the breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Chicken fried steak?! Sign me up.
I'll just skip on the biscuits though.