From The Travel Log: My First Road Trip Part II

030My First Road Trip – Boston Massachusetts

“I would love to travel around the world like you do”

Like I said in my previous posts, I hear that a lot.


I wrote of driving to Boston. I wrote of leaving Stamford, Connecticut and taking a long route.

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I drove past Waterbury, Connecticut. The scene of that town from my car window looked like it was painted by Norman Rockwell.

I sped right along until I saw the skyline of Hartford. It was a large city. A lot of tall modern day structures adorned the crest of the cityscape. Standing tall was one long spire that looked like it was transported from the 1940’s. It definitely looked older than the rest of the buildings.

The base of it rose about 15 stories high. The shape of the base was like a rectangular box standing on its end. The texture of the frame looked like concrete and plaster formed into a stone like clay. Large windows adorned each story of the base. Sitting on the base were four thin, tall layers stacked upon each other. Each stack became thinner thus few forming the spire. A long communications antenna mounted the tip.

I drove past. It was no longer in my peripheral. I thought about it a long time as I sped up highway 84 North. I didn’t think it was a high rise apartment complex. I thought it may have belonged to a corporation. A bank? Perhaps it was the home of one or more of the many insurance institutions that pervaded the town.

I drove on. My next milestone would be highway 90 in Massachusetts. The Mass Turnpike. My stomach began to churn in pain. I sat up straight as I felt my equilibrium wobble from the pounding thud in my digestive system. After a few minutes, the pain went away. I worried as I thought about my last Doctor visit. I regained my composure and continued driving.

Stay tuned for the next post…

From the Travel Log: My First Road Trip Part 1


“I would love to travel around the world like you do”

Like I said in my previous post, I hear that a lot.

My First Assignment

It was mid-February, 1993. I had just finished my 6 weeks of application software training. I was given my first assignment. Travel to Waltham, Massachusetts and train users on the new manufacturing software.

I was staying at a full service hotel in Stamford, Connecticut. An army of roadies from my company was also there. All of us were packing our bags and preparing to checkout. Most would join me in Waltham while others would head to downtown Boston.

After checkout I was on the road. I decided not to take 95 North. Though it was early Sunday afternoon, that route could still be congested. I would leave Stamford l, Connecticut and take 95 South. From 95 South, I would cross the New York state line and take 287 West. From 287 West I would take 684 North and pick up 84 East. It was sort of a roundabout way to go because I would end up in Connecticut again but the traffic would be light.

Traveling 84 East gave me a chance to see the Connecticut countryside. There were no leaves on the trees, therefore I would have full view of the neighborhoods and towns along the way.

Waterbury was the most interesting to me. You could clearly see most of the town center from the highway. A few steeples and spires stood out amongst the old brown and red brick buildings that adorned the streets. The terrain of the city was not plain flat. It consisted of hillsides and ridges thus adding to the charm of the town. It was not a town filled with brand new buildings. Most of the structures seemed old. It seemed like the structures were built in the 1940’s or perhaps earlier. Again, I thought this look just added to the city’s charm. Looking at it from my window reminded me of many scenes painted by Norman Rockwell.

I smiled as I kept driving on 84 East towards Hartford.

Stay tuned for my next post in this series.

From the Travel Log: More Road Drama



“I would love to travel around the world like you do”

I hear that comment a lot. I enjoy travel. It is exhilarating and exhausting. In 1992 I took a road assignment. I worked in corporate America. I worked for a Fortune 500 company. The assignment required me to transfer from my regional headquarters office in South Carolina to corporate headquarters in New York. The assignment also required a two year commitment and it was a 100% travel assignment. There was no need for me to find an apartment. I would be living in hotels while I was on the road.

“I would love to travel around the world like you do”

Like I said earlier, I hear that a lot. Look out for the next chapter in this series:

My First Assignment: The Boston Area in February!

Blogging Time: Brewster to NYC

Brewster to NYC

On the train again
My iPod shuffle stuck
on “Say Goodbye”
by Beck

and I ride

going to the city
again to hear poets
read their best
at another poetry event

and I ride

I look out the window
As my train glides
down the track
sailing crests of steel

and I ride

packed a poor man’s
lunch in my leather bag
sweet dried cranberries,
juice and garlicky flatbread

and I ride

i munch as we sail
i study a piece
i prepared for
the open mic

and i ride

we pull into GCT
elation consumes
each thread and cord
of my feeling

soon I arrive

walked into the venue
poets already sounding
sweet words on stage
i take my seat

and i ride

Travel Log: Putting on My Earphones


Putting On My Earphones

I hate traveling during election week.

I left Atlanta and landed in Charlotte. My connecting flight to New York was not scheduled to depart for two-plus hours. I ate a large burger in Atlanta, therefore, I was not hungry when I stepped off the plane in Charlotte. I decided to stop at a little bar in the main area of the airport.

The joint was packed. I found a seat at the bar. I ordered a beer. It arrived and I sat and sipped while I relaxed. I scanned the crowd. Some people were focused on their plates. The special of the day was fish tacos. My bartender told me that they were very good. I told him, “not now, perhaps later”.

A few bar patrons were watching the televisions that were scattered across the wall. They were just having a drink. Like me. The remaining non-eaters were all thumbs on their cell phones. Texting away. Oblivious. In their zone. Like me.

All vibes were cool. Until. Two gentlemen began a long, loud, slurred rant pertaining to politics. They were pleased with the outcome of the presidential election. I won’t say that I was happy for them but I stand with the provisions of our constitution. Thennnn…..they began to rail on the President. That was when my blood began to boil. I remember thinking, I thought about reasoning with them. I also thought about confronting them and giving them a piece of my mind. That would show them that I could spew out just as much shrill vitriol as they could. I came back to reality again. I realized they were quite drunk and any discussion with them would only result in fisticuffs.

I pulled my earphones from my pocket. I placed them in my ear. I played my music and drowned them out. When the bartender approached, I made ready to ask him if he could ask them to tone it down. They departed before I could get his attention. The joint returned to its state of cool vibe. I removed my headphones. For the moment, the vitriol was over.

The Travel Log – Seated In the Concourse Again!


Seated In The concourse again

I’m sitting at a table in a restaurant. The restaurant is at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International. I sip a tall cold beer from a tall cold glass. I reflect as I sip. Hundreds walk through the busy concourse. I note the variety and the diversity of the individuals in the fast moving crowd. Some are tall and slender like I used to be. I’m still tall. I’m not slender anymore. I can thank these long tall cold ones for that. I hesitate before I take another sip.

I continue to watch the fast moving crowd. I continue to observe the diversity and the variety. I note different hairstyles. Some styles are long and straight. Some are long, black and curly like mine used to be. My hair is straight with a few tints of gray now. Just a few tints. Very few. When I go to the drugstore with my wife, I always end up in the “hair dye” aisle. That’s funny because I’m usually following her. The same thing happens when I’m following my nieces through the drugstores. I wonder if they are trying to tell me something?

I continue to reflect as I watch the diversity and the variety of the individuals in the fast moving crowd. What if we all were tall and lanky? What if we all bore long straight hair.? What if we all were one color? What if we all wore the same suit of the same fabric? What if we all walked at the same speed? Just how boring or just how odd would my people watching be.

I finish my long tall beer. I look at the gentleman seated to my right. He’s having a soda. I look at the lady seated to my left. She’s having an iced tea. Sweetened (We are in Georgia, you know). What if we all had the same taste? I pick up my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. I walk to my gate. It is time to board. I’m glad to watch and not be bored. I fully appreciate a world of diversity and variety.