My Kind of Town

The plaintive, mournful cry of an animal becomes clearer as you approach the Holiday Inn.

Could it be a coyote? A wolf? A bear?

No. It would seem not. For as you tread closer still to the source, you begin to discern some distinct syllables mixed in with the howls and screeches.

“I waaanna go hoooOOOoome. HooooooooOOOOme. Hooome. ArrrooOOOOOh.”

Yes, I had spent one too many days in Illinois, and was anxious to feel Kentucky bluegrass under my feet, even if that meant I’d have to mow it myself.

So, that poor creature was me begging Michael to let me drive home last night.

“You’ll get off at nine p.m., I’ll have everything packed and in the car by that time, and I’ll drive right over and pick you up. We’ll be back in Louisville by five tomorrow morning.”

“Uh, I don’t think so. You’re night-blind.”

“Only a little. I’ll be fine on the interstate.”

“No. It’s only one more day. We’ll leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”

After that, I whined and howled and scratched my toenails on the mosaic print carpet of the hotel room, but it was all to no avail.

Don’t get me wrong. Chicago was fun*, especially the first few days of our stay.

Thing is, on certain days, for various reasons, we ended up spending a little too much time in the hotel room.

It was in those moments that my own words echoed in my brain, “No, Michael, I’ll be fine. There’s no need to drag that big clunky pc along on what will most likely only be a one week** visit.”

Well, believe me, hind sight is indeed 20/20 when you are sitting in a hotel room watching crappy reality tv because you only have eight channels to choose from and half of those are news channels.

Hmm, Fox News or For Love or Money? Yep, that’s right. My choice was made for me.

Stupid Bimbos on Ice Meet Stupid Bimbos of the Outback and They Do Stupid Stuff to Win a Stupid Shallow Guy could have been on following For Love or Money, and sadly enough, I’d have watched that too.

Anyhow, I was about half way through my second episode of For Love of Money when I had a not so riveting thought: “I hate each and every one of these people, but boy I hope that bitch Rachel wins, chooses the money and gets nothing but a crisp dollar bill for her trouble.”

Then, I had another thought that seemed a bit more to the point:

“God help me. It’s come to this.”

So, I guess the main thing I want to convey to you today is that, from now on, no matter how short our stay may or may not be, my computer will be coming with me whenever we leave town. It can sit in my lap on the drive or on the plane if need be, but it’s definitely coming along.

By the way, I have this idea for a reality television show called Come Hell or High Water™. The premise is this: A dozen or so narcissistic women and men who have only narrowly mastered walking erect will attempt to extract my computer from my arms by burning me or drowning me or poking me with their crude weapons and/or grooming tools. If they manage to get any part of my pc away from me, they win a trip to The Bahamas. The downside for them is that they’ll probably die trying.

ArrrrooooOOOOh.

So, how are you? ‘Cause I missed you. You’ll never know how much.

ArrrooooOOOOh.

* I’ll give you more details about the trip in my next few posts. Overall, we had a lovely time.

**We ended up having to be there for two weeks. Arrrooooh.

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