No word of fog, but it’s supposed to rain half the time I’m in London. Figures.

I’m packing and doing logistical things now, alternating between trying to decide what should go in my suitcase (I absolutely refuse to take anything other than carry-on bags), and doing stuff like making my airport shuttle reservation. How did we plan for trips before the Web? I can barely remember. Actually, I do remember: there were these people called “travel agents” who helped us. I had a great one, a guy who handled all the family business (which given how much my dad and stepmother travel, was both substantial and varied).

I also remember having incredibly quick phone conversations with my parents, pouring pound coins into those wonderfully bulky pay phones, and checking the American Express office every day to see if I got any letters. Isn’t that a far cry from Gmail….

Unclear whether I travel any better, or more effectively, or just end up putting more stuff off until the last minute. Probably some of each.

[To the tune of Louis Armstrong & Ella Fitzgerald, “A Foggy Day In London Town,” from the album “Ella & Louis“. (And yes, this song was chosen as a commentary.)]