London Calling

I just logged my two millionth mile. I hasten to add that the vast majority of those miles I paid for myself. I say this because some of you think I ride around in luxury all the time with the corporate teat between my teeth. I assure you I do not. I am, for better or worse, insanely bi-coastal, with one half of my existence on the left coast and the other, on the right, necessary to pay for the whole deal. Hence my millions — not bucks but miles. 

The crazy size of my achievement comes with some benefits. Primarily, it has boosted me to Executive Platinum status on American Airlines. This confers access to the first-tier lounge at most airports. This is why I am writing you right now from the British Airways First Class Lounge at Heathrow Airport. It is among the nicest spaces — public, semi-public or private — I have ever been privileged to be in. 

There are coffee machines dispensing all sorts of cool stuff, and teas, of course, and an assemblage of the bizarre things that British people like to eat, all very nice. Fruit and baked goods and jams and meats and porridge and warm bubbly drinks, even top-shelf booze if you’re in the mood at this hour of the morning. Many residents are on their laptops, working. Business never ceases. 

The news here this morning is that the British banks are reaping the benefits of new, lower interest rates, which were slashed 1.5 percent recently… and not passing the savings along to their customers. Shocking, wot? 

In a little while, we move on to Rome. We’ll see how good the free wi-fi is from there.

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