27 Days of Travel: Day 10

It's early right now. Not super-painful early, that was this morning when my alarm went off. 4 am is super-painful early. Now it's about 8 am and I'm sitting in the A Terminal at Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport waiting for my connection to DC; trip #3.

But for the moment, let's return to trip #2. Yesterday afternoon I got back from 3 days in Charleston South Carolina. I say it's beautiful because that's what I hear, but truth be told I can't really vouch for it personally. I have this bad habit of working on all of these business trips and rarely scheduling any time to enjoy the cities themselves. We're usually doing things like this:

Matthew, a locally-hired grip, ties up a drop to help build our set. Yes, he's wearing shorts. He wore shorts.

For this shoot we re-created a hospital ICU on our client's showroom floor. We even got the smell right. I'm not sure why, though.

Jim shoots some high-res stills of the product demo as Andy provides a little extra kick of light via battery-powered LED. And Seana, our infinitely patient...patient...plays dead. Or at least critically ill.

This time, after we finished the shoot, our very gracious client took us out for gourmet burgers at a local hot spot and then drinks at an old (olde) Irish Pub nearby. Awfully nice to relax a bit, and especially nice to have friendly gracious clients.

I should note that not all travel (even in this series) is for business. Of these eight planned trips, one of them (#4) is for pleasure. A group of friends started a Labor Day camping tradition about 16 years ago and every year that it's been feasible I've made the trek.

I'm not really a consummate camper. I'm more of a cabin-camper. I've always said that if Ritz-Carlton got into the campground business I'd spend a lot more time overnighting it in the great outdoors. But that's not to say that I don't enjoy a bit of dirt and rain from time to time. LDX (it somehow stands for Labor Day Camping...something to do with Greeks and fraternities and traditions) is just such a time, where I'll expect to be a bit wet and chilly while tubing in the Nottely River, my clothes to smell like campfire smoke and my right hand to be more or less permanently bent around a bottle of Guinness for three days.

And yes, I'm sleeping in a cabin.

Alright, then. Time to board the next leg. Thanks for stopping by (and you stay classy, San Diego). More soon.