14 Hours to Go on the Plane

14 hours to go.
Get through one,
here's 'nother one,
13 hours to go on the plane…

Let’s go back a little shall we?

This trip began on Wednesday; when after a morning of packing my carry-on, I was just about ready to fly all the way to China. But first, I had to swing into New Jersey, pick up my classmate Drew, and spend the night just outside the Newark International Airport.

On a trip like this, it’s easy to feel wholly unprepared no matter how hard you try. We’re all given a one-bag limit, not to exceed 50 lbs., for checking in. With 10 days to travel, and four days of business meetings, that seems like a tall order. Ultimately, it becomes a lesson in tough choices.

An emotional farewell from my wife, and I’m on the road.

Drew and I check into the illustrious Newark Airport Country Inn at roughly 5pm. It’s more problematic than necessary. But, let’s move on.

A couple of hours pass, and the whole group of 6 is in for the night at Newark Airport. Denise, Duane, Laura and Brian are in, so we swing by, pick ‘em all up and head out to dinner in Hoboken.

Anthony David’s (111 10th Street) is easy to miss, but deserves to be sought out. It’s a really good restaurant, offering 25 out of 30 scores from Zagat’s at non-New York city prices. Drew has emptied a sizable portion of his wine cellar for us tonight, as Anthony David’s a BYOB. We dig into a cured meat and cheese platter opening, and then move onto to main courses of lamb, stuffed pork, scallops, etc. It’s a really good meal, for a really good price. When the waiter offers up the apple dessert, which amounts to a baked apple Wellington, we are all over it. This place deserves another visit. But right now, we’ve got to figure a way to stay up and wear ourselves out before the 14 hour flight that awaits us.

I’ve emptied my fridge of left over Super Bowl beer for the evening. The collapsible cooler is full of leftover Yeungling in need of a stomach. So, we crash Denise’s room at the Newark Airport Hotel (very nice) and drink our way through it all in just a little over an hour.

Tonight’s had a fun common element – we’ve gotten a chance to share the family histories. I’d never thought about it like this before, but I’m one generation away from the sugar cane fields. My family’s come a long way in a short time. I stop to wonder what’s next for us as I trade my family-planning-plans with Laura and Denise.

It’s only 2am. Should we go into NY, force the last bit of "awake time" out of ourselves? Can’t. We’re getting too old for that. So off we go to bed.

By the time morning arrives, Drew’s sounding like Barry White. We can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the hotel air. But there’s no time for debate. We have to get over to the airport and suffer the indignity of the security screening.

The program has secured us a hospitality room so we can all meet up. But when we get in, Drew and I discover our group’s at the bar, getting in a quick couple rounds before we fly. We join them in short order.

Everybody’s here, except for Shannon, already in China because work needed her there a day or two early. Mike is holding court. Alexis is on his phone while sipping a grown man’s cocktail. Pete is waiting to give everybody their requisite dose of busted chops. Dan’s in the mix sipping and smiling along with the crew. Kent strides past on his way to, well, somewhere, and we marvel at the length of his pace. Chris is taking pictures on her phone, catching us mostly unawares. Duane gets his hackles up once he realizes he was overcharged for an overweight bag. Mike laughs ‘cause he got the good end of the bargain. Denise is nursing her Bloody Mary. Neil and Ed are keeping each other entertained. And I’m arguing with Will about the need to eat some of the local food in Beijing.

It’s a great group of people. Between the 44 of us, there’s not much we can’t figure out. This should be a fun, and, yes, educational, trip.

30 mins later on the plane, I meet my seatmates. We students are peppered throughout the plane. Sleep is an option, getting to know our neighbors is another. I notice the guy two seats over from me is talking like an academic. He's clearly had a lot of thought invested in China. Before long, I come to find he’s a technology professor at UConn, on his way for his 3rd visit to China, where he plans to teach some Chinese students, and then arrange for the arrival of a handful of his American students to join him. I could read all the printouts I made, but talking to this fellow is a much more effortless refresher course.

Between us is a fellow from Indiana in the tractor tire business. He’s on his way to try and close a deal with Chinese suppliers.

The two of them strike up conversation, with the professor walking him through a heavy mix of macro-issues involving business in China. He walks him through all kinds of stuff including a crash course on how to use an iPhone, a consideration of the growth of the world’s cell phone business (50 % of the world now owns a cell phone), and the challenge of manufacturers in the coming years.

Here’s an interesting issue he raised: The insurance companies have a rough future ahead of them. Consider the push to map the human genome and codify our individual DNA. In our lifetimes, it is highly likely that your DNA can be mapped out, genetic risks can be identified and planned for, and illnesses can be cut off at the outset. Where does that leave the insurance industry? When your entire business is built on risk and mitigation and statistical probabilities – what do you do when that risk is turned into certainty, illness is averted and statistical probabilities are turned on their collective ears? How do you charge for that? How do you keep a business of insuring people for the unexpected afloat when the unexpected becomes the assured?

Heady stuff. And as the years go, and the world becomes smaller (with 2+ billion joining the game in earnest) what do you do? How do we (Americans) stay relevant? How do we demonstrate creativity that keeps us and our companies and our economy afloat?

If my nephews are reading this, quit high school Spanish and take up Mandarin or Hindi. If it turns out to be a waste, blame me. I’m a big boy, I can take it.


13 hours to go on the plane,
13 hours to go
Get through one,
Here’s ‘nother one,
12 more hours to go on the pane….

Save me…

I try to sleep. But I can’t for any considerable length of time. This flight is too packed and too cramped. Thankfully, I’m not alone so this trip descends into an hour of sharing cocktails by the bathrooms with classmates to a couple of hours grabbing cat naps. I shudder at the thought of the return trip, which includes a stretch flying from Shanghai back to Beijing. Ugh…



We make it to Beijing and head to customs, which is the longest set of lines I’ve ever seen outside of Disneyland.



Beijing International is a lovely airport. If not for all the Chinese people, you’d swear you were in a newer terminal in the U.S. And, I notice that my employer, GE, has practically bought out the terminal’s advertising space. The Olympics mean a lot more to GE than just a nice boost for NBC – it’s a shot in the arm for the company as a whole. Here they are bombarding the Chinese market with the value of GE’s portfolio of products.



On to baggage claim, and a stop at the ATM, where I withdraw my money as RMB. Next, we walk out to the terminal and we’re greeted to this site. (Note the Starbucks, and the Colonel staring back from the KFC.)



We hop onto our shuttle for the Crown Plaza on Wangfujing Avenue. We get a quick tour of the CBD (Central Business District). Every building here is huge and modern, which leads me to another observation – Beijing (and I suspect China in general) is a giant construction project. I saw dozens of hard hats, bridges and patches of highway under construction (which likely lead to more construction) and every sing in the CBD that Beijing is trying to look like any other world-class financial center.

Traffic is packed. Beijing has a population of 15 million, with 3 million of them owning their own car. This used to be a nation of walkers and bike riders. Now, a guy rides by in a Maybach, talking animatedly over the phone while his driver navigates the streets. This within seconds of seeing locals packed along tables in public squares, presumably playing card games or Mah Jong with a piece of their pay – after all, it is Friday.

The hotel is quite nice. A lovely lobby, and the room?



Yes, this group rarely spends time together outside of a class room without libation. I catch up with a group in the lobby, and we decide to chance the streets in search of a bar. We head left, where we passed a shopping district earlier. Here, within a five minute walk of our hotel, are two Nike stores, a Puma boutique, and a surprising number of lingerie shops and hair salons.

We wander in a circle, because we’re told that Beijing is a series of squares. If we just keep making lefts, we should make our way back to the hotel. But after a mile, we don’t find a single gin joint. We hop off course when we see “International Visitor’s Club”. Sounds promising. Let’s go. We end up down an alley where no one speaks English and we can’t speak Mandarin. We get shooed out of one place, and find that another place won’t let us drink without dinner. We head back to the hotel.

And bingo – The Ban Po Beer Hut, literally two blocks from the hotel. We went left when we should’ve gone right. We head down the stairs, say “Ni hao!”, and “Beer?”, and we’re immediately ushered into the dining room. Moments later, the table is covered in bottles of Tsing Tao for 8. This place is our style. It’s in a basement, it’s sufficiently local in feeling (without making us feel awkward) and the prices are right. We squeeze in three quick rounds and head back to the hotel for dinner with the group, planning to head back later; which we do, with the majority of the group in tow. A local guitarist is serenading us with rock classics as the boys play poker, the girls play Jenga, and I just try to stay awake.

Oh, BTW, a quick trip to the bathroom leads to hilarity. Now, set aside your western expectations. This is a pretty typical toilet. The signs, however, make this a priceless picture waiting to be taken.



Tomorrow: A tour of The Forbidden City, a concert in Beijing’s newest high-class venue, and hopefully a world-class meal.