Yes, I am happy to say that I finally am home after the three weeks that would not end. Everything that shouldn’t have happened did, and everything that should have didn’t. Mr. Murphy, whoever he was would be very excited at the way his law was applied to the letter during this trip.
Let’s see what the balance is:
One snowstorm of the century, two whiteouts, one blackout, two emergency room visits, two plane rides turned to train, borg luggage that kept multiplying despite its destruction at every airport, having to wear a coat in South Beach, losing the others to Macy’s, cancelled appointments and city council members, endless shopping, endless smiling, running to catch connecting flights, waiting for luggage to come out, fat guy in the next seat, Sikh luggage seller, AA baggage claim agent, etc, etc, etc.
Sunny Portland, Chattanooga River cruise and aquarium tour with our very own personal hot-blue-eyed-scientist-guide with the patience of a saint, (actually all city guides with their blue eyes and easy smiles), evening walk in South Beach with a friend, endlessly lovely New York, Jerry Springer at the Memphis Musical, quickie breakfast in freezing Pittsburgh with a friend, jet bathtub in hotel rooms, working out to my yoga tape, king-size bed, complimentary cheese platter, and my bed at the end of the trip.
And no word will pass from my lips about the future leaders of my country. Just sobs I can’t quite stifle.