<div class="floatleft">(http://i63.tinypic.com/2eqf9j4.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Peter Warcaof</span></strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">CGDA Benefactor</span></strong><br/>‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾</div></div></div>I hear a familiar word—visas, and nod.<strong>“Well, when you mention Corinne I know that if best effort brings results, we shall have visas.  If not, forces beyond Corinne’s control made for issues.  We shall see what we shall see, eh?”</strong><br/><br/>I look at the flight attendant and signal for another half of a turkey club.  She giggles and mouths<em>half only?</em>.  I smile back and nod.  The sandwich is delivered.  We exchange a second set of smiles.<br/><br/>The plane banks and the familiar sensation of descent begins.  The attendants begin clearing the waste and checking to make sure we’re set.<br/>