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The First Mile

Continuing with my Hawaii retroblogging, it was no easy task, though easier than I thought it would be, to get from Hanover to Honolulu with two young children.

The toughest part was literally the first mile, from the hotel at Logan airport in Boston to the gate. At five o'clock in the morning on the first Saturday of the summer, the terminal was an absolute mob scene. Not quite at the level of my experiences in Beijing or Delhi or even Toronto on a summer travel weekend during a labor strike. We left ourselves two hours and made it with little time to spare.

We flew United by way of San Francisco, and all of the usual inconveniences were there, but the planes were filled to capacity, the tickets weren't cheap, and the service was generally okay. It was more apparent what was behind recent good news in the financial markets for the company. So I assume the airline is making as much money as it is ever going to, unless it can magically lower fuel prices or overcome historic management challenges.

Another interesting event--the flight from Honolulu back to San Francisco was the first time I recall having women as both the captain and the first officer.

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