hat really sucks with when you drive two hours to Port St Lucie to be an assistant dispatcher to a guy who is actually better than you. Richard’s got this gig cold – I mean, he’s running the DS panel without the magnetic board. He’d doing it in his fricking head. I’m just watching this guy throw down train moves and thinking, Jeeeze…. Like maybe I should be holding his coat or something.

And not only that, he was gracious enough to give me half-a-session. Of course, when he got up and bowed his way out through the Oz curtain, I was left with an empty board, no idea where everyone was, and a bunch of OS lights twinkling like fireflies in a clearing.

Okay, so it took about ten minutes to get everything figured out (what with inane calls like, “So, 122, good to hear from you. Um, where are you at right now?”) Anyway, I finally rebuilt the board with the magnets (no thanks to Richard, who was probably mentally bending spoons or something). But no, the session seemed to run well, Bruce and I had a gondola load of fun, and the drive home was as easy as butter sliding off a pancake. All sessions should be like this. Nobody crashed and nobody died. And nobody got hung out to dry.

Next session, someone remind me to ask our host where exactly the “Western Bay” really is? If you know, please contact me at Robertraymond@bellsouth.net. I’d love to know.

Thanks, Al!

>>>HEY, BUY A BOOK. I NEED MONEY TO SEND MYSELF TO DISPATCHER SCHOOL!<<<