I came home from Manchester, NH by way of Detroit and then Memphis allowing me the opportunity to experience the hospitality of four airports for the price of two. I am not quite over the edge, but I have a great view of it from here.
That’s why I had to say yes to the opportunity to play some private country club golf today. If I have to stress like a CEO then I intend to play like one too. Of course, what self-respecting CEO puddle jumps home from New England? None of them. I did not see Sir Richard Branson cramming his duffle into the overhead and swearing. I did not hear Mark Cuban trying to cadge an extra bag of pretzels from the un-pitying flight attendant.
I’m not even a CEO, unless that stands for “Carries Everything Overboard” or “Can’t Ever Overcome” or something like that.
Watch out Bushwood, here I come.
Juancho
I like you so I’m going to give you a little advice.
I was in New Hampshire myself yesterday and onto Detroit on Monday. I’m following you. Next time you lay over in the D let me know. Maybe I can drive out and buy you an airport beer.
If you have to fly, simply cannot avoid it, then Southwest is the best; but “Manchester” translates to “Southwest” to me. So, yes, it sucks.
That’s why I am on my knees begging you to DRIVE to the reunion of your Unglaciated Allegheny Plateau People. Dates: June 28 through July 1. Don and Stew arrive late 29th; Rita, Don, John, Bernie probably a day earlier. Stew wants to see kissin’ cuzins, you being one. Mitch, Beth and Zach probably on the Thursday of that week. Only day Beth has off. Auntnan needs to see favorite nephew of all time. Your mom says she’s not coming, but I know you can convince her. Let’s not wait for a funeral. Hey, if DON THE GREAT can make it, who can’t match him and raise him one. I need your e-mail, Juancho. Tiananny