Odds n' Ends

The decision was made to pry open the suitcase this morning. Using the opposite of the "business end" of a hammer, I popped the case open like I were pulling an old, bent, rusty nail out of a splintering, water damaged piece of wood. Luckily, I was able to close it back up and get on my way. I made sure not to touch the combination lock again. Once at the airport, I checked the bag and headed on into the security line. I decided to switch thing up a little bit, getting a breakfast sandwich at Subway instead of the usual breakfast burrito that I enjoy in the American terminal prior to morning flights.

A friend of mine told a tale today of a strange but touching incident that occurred in her yard today. While on her way out to run an errand, she came across a 10 year old boy on all fours pulling weeds from her front "lawn". Perhaps "lawn" is a bit ambitious as this patch of land lined by the cement walkway, sidewalk, and driveway, respectively is not exactly a shrine to Kentucky Bluegrass that would make the groundskeepers at Fenway Park proud, but you probably get my drift. Dumbfounded and greatful at the same time, she thanked him and asked him to wait while she got him so money for his unsolicited good deed. "You don't have to pay me," he replied shyly. With a puzzled look on her face, she gazed at him, hoping that the appropriate words would come to mind in response."I didn't do it for money," he continued. "I did it for the Lord, Jesus Christ." See! Prayer does work, as she acknowledged after admitting that she was feeling overwhelmed by the way the yard's declining appearance.

After a long travel day, complete with a lengthy delay at DFW, I checked into my hotel room at the Sheraton in Philadelphia. "I only have double beds left," said the lady at the front desk. I told her that I would really prefer a king, but it's late and I'm hungry, so I'm not feeling like this is the end of the world at this point. At least she didn't tell me that they were out of rooms or something like that. "I can get you a queen bed, but it has a walk-in shower," she continued, sounding more and more like she was hoping to save this room for someone else. I shrugged. My shoulders and my facial expression collaborating to say, "No me importa. Esta bien."
I took the keys and headed up the elevator to this room, just beyond the elevator shaft on the 15th floor. I opened the door and backed in, pulling my luggage behind me until it was all the way through the door. Turning on the light and glancing to my left, I was startled...by my own reflection in the mirror. I laughed at myself as my heartrate slowed down after a moment. Then I turned around to see a huge red stain right in the middle of the golden-rod colored carpet. I felt like Eddie and Arsenio after they were shown to their "meager accomodations" in Coming to America. Luckily, there was no chalk outline of a homicide victim or any rats scurrying across the floor. Peeling back the sheets, the brown hairs on the white sheets told me that they hadn't been changed and that I would be doing an aboutface to get another room.

After that situation was straightened out I strolled down to the concierge desk to find a restaurant. I wanted to get some of the world famous Mac n' Cheese at Delilah's and maybe some smothered pork chops or something, but the concierge thought that i was referring to the steakhouse and gentleman's club over near the water. I straightened him out on that and he finally put in a call to the right place, but they must've been closed. He ended up sending me to a place called Chris' Jazz Cafe who wasn't serving its dinner menu anymore since it was after 10pm, but had some great live jazz. The waitress told me to go up the street to Marathon Grill if I wanted a full meal. Your basic comfort food late night diner type of establishment, Marathon had a courteous staff and even whipped me up a Mango smoothie. I polished this off along with a salad and some Chicken Saltimboca and headed back to the jazz spot. The Robin Haffney Quintet was just what the doctor ordered, rattling off a nice cover of the Miles Davis classic Bye Bye Blackbird as I walked in. I caught the last 6 or 7 songs of their set but during that short time I was able to see each member of the group showcase their talent. The pianist did quite a nice Bill Evans with a lull-you-to-sleep style complete with facial expressions that suggested a deep feeling of each tickle of the proverbial ivories. The bassist and drummer were understated, yet crisp in their contributions to rounding out the rhythm section. The little sax man looked much more like one of Frank Sabotka's stevedores than a guy that could make you close your eyes and almost imagine that you were listening to John Coltrane. He was the one that did the talking between numbers, so perhapd he was Robin Haffney. The man with the horn decidedly had skills of his own, exhibiting a manual dexterity and precision to his notes that would leave you swearing that these guys did not need day jobs. I was in my element. Life is good.