magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Up at five AM, with a car to pick me up at six, to get to Newark by seven, for a flight that left at eight. Early, early, early, early.

I was at the airport about half an hour early, but given the crazy-long lines, this was a good thing. I skipped the one at check-in, having printed a boarding pass yesterday and having only carry-on luggage. But the security line snaked out and around the pre-gate area of the terminal for miles. Or maybe not miles but it did take nearly half an hour to get to the security desk, and then, as they shuffled me into the longest of the metal detector lines, another half hour to get through that. And once again I had to step aside and get patted down because my bracelets which are much to convoluted to remove set the machine off.

At the gate they announced that the flight was oversold, and that anyone who wanted to volunteer to be bumped to a later flight would get a free round-trip ticket to anywhere US Airways flies. Since Charlotte is their East Coast hub, there would be another flight in a couple of hours, which I knew someone else from work would be on, and so I volunteered.

After the plane was boarded though, including the handful of people who sprinted from security at the last minute and bitched at the gate attendant for running an airline terribly (US Airways is in the process of merging with America West, with whom Sam had such trouble with a week ago), there were still a handful of empty seats, probably due to everyone who didn't make it through the line at check-in or security, and so they ushered me and the couple who had also volunteered to be bumped onto the plane. Sans free round-trip ticket.

I arrived at the Charlotte airport around ten and took a cab into the city. Saw the 10' high letters that I "designed" for Panthers' Stadium on the way in. Checked into my hotel. And headed over to the museum, which although I didn't really know exactly where it was I could triangulate based on the photos I had seen for various projects I've worked on in the vicinity.

Although some of the museum elements had been moved into space it was still very much a construction site. There was painting going on. There were HVAC guys up in the ceiling. Russian electricians banging on light fixtures and yelling at each other. And no one that I recognised.

I decided to take a little informal tour of some of the building signs that I've designed over the past two years. Walking first the wrong direction down Tryon Street, but getting a good view of the stadium out over some empty lots, as well as the beautiful Westin Charlotte, which of course I had nothing to do with, but was originally supposed to be staying in.

Then lunch. Another quick pop into the museum. And then, because it was such a beautiful day, another walk right down to the stadium itself. I took some photos of the signage that I am at least in part responsible for (the corporate powers that be struck down most of the most interesting idea that we had, but are still a few nice touches) and was walking around the building when a security guard came up to me and said in a gruff voice, 'There's nothing down that way.'

'That's okay,' I replied, 'I'm just walking around the building.'

'You can't walk around the building.'

'I can't?'

'You can walk over to that fence and then turn around. Or you can just go the other way now.'

'Umm. Okay, I guess.' I felt as I was being personally attacked in quest to circumnavigate the stadium. I, for the life of me, can't understand how you could design a colosseum-type building and not have a promenade going all the way around. And so in retaliation, I set out instead to circumnavigate, or maybe more accurately circumambulate the perimeter of the city's urban core.

Well, that wasn't initially my goal. At first I just wandered away from the stadium, in a different direction than the one that I had come in, muttering under my breath. I was distracted by a puddle and some chipping paint in a parking lot on the fringe of the city. Instead of walking back downtown from there, I kept along the fringe, venturing further out when there was a large building beyond the arc of my travel, and back in when things thinned out or became old residential.

I spent a few hours walking. Getting a feel for the lay of the city, its architecture, its rhythm of space. Taking pictures of things that might inspire my own work, or were simply pretty. Watched the sun set. Came across some interesting places and buildings and things. And once more into the museum on my final trajectory back into the city centre.

My phone was ringing at this point. Leah and Stephanie had been working on writing up some of the last of the curatorial text for the museum and were now having a drink in the restaurant at the Westin, and would I like to join them.

'So I'm staying at the Westin,' Stephanie said. 'I didn't know that the reservations had been changed and so I just checked in here.'

'The posted rate for my room at the Marriott is $250 a night. Of course the corporate rate is considerably less than that, but I've stayed at Best Westerns for $40 a night that were just as nice.'

'So why did anyone get switched?'

'When the crew from Exhibits was here the week before Christmas the were originally in the Westin, but complained about having to walk the seven or eight blocks to the museum. So they all moved to the Marriott, which is right across the street.'

'You should just switch your reservation back,' Leah said.

'I should. It's just such a gorgeous building, as a self-respecting architect how could I not stay here?'