This is the fantastic-but-true story of how a business trip to
England led to a definite highpoint of my life, actually meeting
Jimmy Page (my favorite all-time guitarist and songwriter) at his
house in Windsor.

By the summer of '99, I had already done many favors for the Director
of Product/Customer training at the last company I worked for (the
one that laid me off, after 13 years there, almost 5 months ago...for
the best, though, since I landed THE choice job with EMC in Green
Bay, Wisconsin, much closer to my wife's family - I have no family
left in the Pittsburgh area, so we were looking to move up there).
Besides my normal responsibilities (installing and servicing Channel
Switches, Directors, Channel Extenders, Data Comm Matrix Switches,
etc.), I also was assisting the training department by conducting
product training at customer accounts all over the US.

Just before the Director left the company, a choice training class
request came in for an overseas customer, the Royal Navy, located at
a NATO base just north of London. She remembered the favors I had
done for her, and so one fine summer day in 1999 I het a call from
her, asking if I can do another training class for her...in London,
England! Of course I jumped at the offer, and we scheduled it for
August.
Note: This was the first twist of fate that made all of this happen,
for if the request had come in a month later, the assignment would
have been given to someone else.

The flight was long, but uneventful, but upon arriving at Heathrow on
a bright sunny morning at 7:00am, that my largest suitcase, with all
of my clothes for the next 8 days, was missing! The airline got the
name of my hotel and assured me they would locate it and get it to
the hotel, and I felt a bit better when I saw a man holding a sign
with my name on it (a first for me at an airport) for the cab ride to
the hotel.

The London office of my company had made the travel arrangements, and
decided that, since I had the first class on Friday, and then Monday
through Thursday, that they would put me up in Windsor, a little far
from the site, but in a much more scenic area, with Windsor Castle
the prime tourist attraction, for the first three days, then transfer
to a hotel closer to the site. And if I wanted to visit London
(which I did that Sunday), I could take the train there from
Windsor. So fate makes it second choice for me with this arrangement.

I arrived at my hotel, Sir Christopher Wren's House - a very quaint
place, and full of history, but as in all older hotels there, no air
conditioning - situated right on the bank of the Thames River across
from Eaton (the home of the school were the royals were educated)
feeling tired, but excited at my view of Windsor Castle from my room,
and anxious about my luggage. I decided to go for a walk (this was
the 3rd twist of fate, I figure, since if my baggage had not been
lost, I probably would have gone right to bed and thus the entire
chain of events would not have transpired), and took some picures of
the castle, then walked for a while down by the river. I saw several
boat touring comanies, and stopped at one of the booths to ask the
price, and picked the half-hour tour (thought I could get some nice
pictures on the way back, with the river in front and the castle in
the background). This was twist of fate #4.

To be continued.....

Zepman