Almost an entire week back on the East Coast was about all I could handle. I am a perpetual motion machine. Never stop moving. The small green men in the toaster will catch up with you if you stop moving. Get on a plane, man. Go somewhere. Anywhere. Just keep moving.
As I have spent approximately the last three weeks drinking heavily without a night’s sleep in the entire stretch my changes of location very rarely affect me. I can’t even remember where I’ve been, let alone where I’m going or why I’m there. To think, this time last week I was drinking heavily in the honkytonks of downtown Nashville. And now I’m in Seattle, WA.
The long flight didn’t register. It rarely does. You know what made me realize I was a long way from the old and familiar? The radio station call letters on the desks in the Press Box of Safeco Field. Anything starting with a ‘K’ means you’re across the Mississippi. There you go. Odd the things that engage your peabrain.
Oh, and Happy ANV Surrender Day! Stupid Confederates.
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