Never Far From Home
On the road again this evening in Hartford, CT. I can't say much about Hartford so far, except that their airport is under construction requiring you to carry yourself and your luggage down physical stairs to the baggage claim and ground transportation. Real stairs, how archaic. My fellow passengers and I were a little bewildered.
But I noticed at least two little reminders of home on the way to the hotel. A moving truck passed my shuttle on the night highway, the company's name was the same as our current street in Chicago. At the hotel, my room number has the same first three digits of my home phone number growing up: 535. Or JEfferson-5 in the old school style. Both coincidences that make me feel a little warm inside. Or maybe it's just that I haven't figured out the thermostat here yet.
But I noticed at least two little reminders of home on the way to the hotel. A moving truck passed my shuttle on the night highway, the company's name was the same as our current street in Chicago. At the hotel, my room number has the same first three digits of my home phone number growing up: 535. Or JEfferson-5 in the old school style. Both coincidences that make me feel a little warm inside. Or maybe it's just that I haven't figured out the thermostat here yet.
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