Ken & Kevin Khronicles, Friday

Dateline Glendale: TGI editor Ken Palmer and star columnist Kevin Gleason were in Arizona all week as Big Blue prepared for Super Bowl XLII. Here's what's going on in Glendale and the surrounding areas...

We don't really have a whole lot to complain about. We are covering the Super Bowl instead of, say, cleaning septic tanks or picking up empty bottles to put food on the table. (In case a septic tank worker is reading this and takes offense, please don't take it the wrong way. I'm not criticizing the job; I'm surmising that it's one of the most difficult, torturous jobs on the face of the earth. So please accept my mention as a compliment.)

As I was saying, the Super Bowl people go out of their way to make us feel comfortable. The hotel folks are all smiles all the time. Shuttles arrive on the hour and half hour to take us wherever we need to go, whether it be the Convention Center, where the vast media workroom of which I'm presently sitting is located, or far-off places such as the Giants' team hotel at something called the Sheraton Resort Hotel at Wild Horse Pass, out in the desert where coyotes walk.

But every now and then you get a driver who doesn't know where he's going. My first day here a driver started to bare onto a ramp and the split-second before doing so yelled, "Am I taking this exit?" at which point myself and the only other fella on the bus, a dot-com writer from New England, shrugged our shoulders and flashed that we're-in-trouble look at one another. On another day, I looked up from my newspaper to notice the bus weaving in and out of a cozy little neighborhood. "Gee," I thought to myself, "the one thing I know about the location of the Giants' team hotel is that it's in the desert and you must take the highway to get there." "Damn GPS told me to take a U-Turn," the driver growled. "You can't take a U-Turn with a bus!"

I kept my mouth shut, for a change, wanting to say, "Really? Every time I see a bus, it's either going by me at 90 miles per hour or cutting into my line without so much as a cautionary blinker."

Anyway, the people here are great. I felt badly for the poor volunteer on our morning bus here. He announces that he's our information director – I think he used the word, "director" – and would be more than happy to help with any questions or issues we might be having. Some guy in front of him shushed him and a guy in the back of the bus told him to speak up, taking all spirit out of the poor guy. "You can't win," I said to him apologetically. Darn grumpy reporters – I am so sick of them.


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