New England, Day 4

It was Sunday, my last morning at the Doubletree. I decided to get a workout in at the gym and I knew the club opened at 7. I got dressed in my workout clothes, took the elevator down two flights, and walked down two long corridors to the gym...and it was locked. 

Second straight time this shit happened. I and 2 other guys waited for someone to come and open up. And I couldn't ask the front desk since the gym was an operation independent of the Doubletree. I made sure to tell the from desk it was unacceptable. It's not that I wanted an apology, but for a nice hotel, there needs to be better communication between the two businesses.

So I cleaned up, packed up, checked out, and driove west to Lexington, where my mother was born. I stopped downtown at Peet's for a chai and a breakfast sandwich. Of course, this particular location has only pastries, no breakfast sandwiches. That was rather frustrating, not the best start to my Sunday. 

I went to church at Grace Chapel, where I had been several times before. The one thing with it is there are now five locations and I'm not sure which one I had been to previously. But I liked the service, it still has the blended music with light orchestra, choir, piano, and acoustic guitar. And I think I lowered the median age by about 20 years. For the most part, it was seniors and Asians in the congregation. But the pastor gave a good message about the Garden of Eden and Genesis; I do wonder if the younger crows was coming in for the 11 am service.

After that, I made a stop over by First Baptist church of Lexington, where my grandfather pastored in the 1960s. It seemed like I had walked into a time machine. The carpets, the floors, the stained glass windows, the wallpaper, the people, they all seemed like they were 30 or 40 years old. I was hoping to find a picture of him on a wall, but unfortunately, nothing was there. I did talk to the worship pastor, but I knew it just wasn't going to work out. The service was starting in five minutes and I knew he had other things to do. He tried, but I didn't want to be a distraction so I left.

Then came the 2.5 hour drive southwest to Wolcott, CT, a little bit southwest of Hartford. Wolcott is in a quiet hilly area of Connecticut, sort of the backwoods with a couple of lakes scattered around. I went to my friend Joe's house, the first time I'd been to his place. I gave him his Unkillable t-shirt, and of course I had one for myself. I also brought along some trail mix from Whitley's in Virginia so his wife and daughter could have something to enjoy as well.

Joe had a great spread of cold cuts and bread for us to chew on. And I hadn't had any solid food all day (outside of the church communion wafer) so I was game. We drank a couple of Yuengling beers while watching Buffalo vs Miami and then Dallas vs New England.

We left for dinner at Tap and Barrel, a roadside dive pub. We started with the big pretzel, which was coated in too much butter. And the dipping sauces were standard movie theater nacho cheese sauce and a grainy honey dijon dressing. I just opted for the pretzel by itself. I had the namesake burger that was really good, with applewood smoked bacon, jalapeño, cheddar cheese, BBQ sauce and onion frizzles. Excellent combo of spicy, crunchy, salty. Great burger. 

And then back to his place to watch the Jets' heartbreaker loss to Kansas City on Sunday Night Football. His cat was starting to affect me, even thought I had double up my allergy meds. Little did I know the darn cat would sleep downstairs right near me by the living room couch.

I woke up at 5 am with a bit of a runny nose and startled to see the cat staring at me. I got dressed and got out of there quietly but quickly. As I was driving back to the Hartford airport, I knew I felt fatigued, but I figured it was being around the cat and I would shake it off. But on both my flights, my nose was still running. I almost wish I had taken a mask with me. 

There was no issue flying to Hartford, but I got bumped off one flight to Richmond. And it was tough because I had a 3 hour layover between flights, that ultimately became 4hours. I did have a chicken club sandwich and fries at Phillip's seafood in Charlotte, which wasn't bad. But in retrospect, maybe soup was the way to go. The waiter seemed to have a puzzle to solve. I guess some lady was sitting in my seat right before I came in, and left, so her tab was on my table. So when the bill came to me and it had her items, I knew something was wrong.

Finally, I landed around 4:30 and made it home at 5:30. I don't remember much else from that day aside from scattering my backpack and suitcase on the bedroom floor, taking the hottest shower possible, and going to sleep around 6:30. Which led to another week of being sick and missing two additional days of work. I'm just glad it was not COVID.

New England, Day 2

Before heading into Boston on Friday, I wanted to get a workout in and get some water. But the gym was closed. Now this wasn't the hotel gym, mind you. The Doubletree is connected to an Athletic Club that did not open it doors until 7 am. I could not even access water, the only fountain was inside the club. So I settled for one bottle water from the front desk. And even worse, I was not feeling right. I had a runny nose going on that wouldn't stop. I tried recording a video for my YouTube channel, but my voice was so nasally sounding that I had to delete it immediately.

So I got myself together and drive down to Revere MA, just north of Logan Airport on the coast. I parked at the Wonderland garage, where I had gone many times as a college student. Strangely though I did not remember the route to Wonderland or the garage or the look of the station. It all felt brand new. So I hopped on the blue line and took it to the end of route, which is the Bowdoin station in downtown Boston.

My first stop was Flour, a bakery I had seen many times on the Food Network. There was only one thing I wanted, their sticky bun. It was served warm and gooey, with loads of chopped pecans on top. I don't eat many pastries nowadays, but this place knows how to make them. I also had a cup of chai to warm me up, a little on the milky side as opposed to the spiced side, but still very satisfying. Since I wasn't feeling well, I bit the bullet and took a bottle of their veggie juice, which wound up being my appetizer while I waited for the sticky bun and chai. Very flavorful blend, and it was funny that after I drank it, I didn't feel sick the rest of the day. I'm not suggesting magical healing powers, but I did feel much better afterwards.  I took a seat upstairs against the window, which looked down on the busyness of the city. A very nice place to sort of get away from the rush for a minute. Oh, and to use the restroom, you have to ask them for a code. Might want to do that ahead of time.

So I began my walk of the Freedom trail, probably the most touristy thing to do in Boston, besides riding one of those duck boats. I walked by the State House, the Park Street Church, the Old Town Meeting House, and a few other historical sites. Of course, I got there a little early before any of them were opened. About the only place I could go in was the Granary Burial Ground where, Paul Revere, John Hancock, and Samuel Adams are all buried. There's even a tower in the middle for Benjamin Franklin, and his parents are buried there. Of course, Franklin himself is laid to rest in Philadelphia. But it's a nice tease for the uninitiated.

By now it was starting to rain outside and I escaped into the Boston Public Market. Now I was familiar with Quincy Market, the well known food hall. But it wasn't open yet either, and the Public Market was a nice alternative. Bagels, smoothies, pastrami, vegan bakeries, apple cider donuts. The place wasn't too big, but still plenty of variety. Definitely more room that Reading Terminal Market in Philly. Sadly no roast pork sandwiches to be found in Boston.

But I didn't eat because I was saving it up for the Politically Incorrect Food Tour of the North End. It was set to start at 11 am sharp. And we were asked to meet outside in front of the North End branch of the Boston Public Library. There were 16 of us total, and I was the only one there by myself. No big deal, I'm used to it. 11 am, no tour guide. 11:05, no tour guide. By 11:10, we're starting to look at each other and wonder what was going on. So this one guy with the cute wife calls the number. He said he was coming. Around 11:15, Anthony shows up in a black tracksuit with a cigarette in one hand, cup of McDonald's coffee in the other. He reminded me of a mafia version of Rodney Dangerfield. Even had the slicked hair and it didn't move an inch the whole tour. Whatever he uses, I could use it.

Anyway, we got a history of the neighborhood and how the value of the real estate has exploded over the last 2 or 3 decades. But it was also interesting to learn how the Italians have all but moved out of the neighborhood. And about the only businesses that can operate are restaurants because the rent has gone up so high and restaurants are about the only businesses that can make enough money to make up the difference. The local hardware store, drug store, they're gone and not coming back. 

Our first food stop was Galleria Umberto, a pizza joint. And it's funny, because I didn't know the places we were going, but this was a stop I was going to make regardless. So I'm glad I didn't go there ahead of time! They serve square Sicilian slices of cheese pizza, along with arancini and calzones. It's a pretty simple menu, which is fine. What they do, they do very well. We each got a slice, half a rice ball, and a bottle of water. The pizza was fine, not the best I've had, but I actually liked the rice ball more. I'm used to rice balls having too much filling and the outside coating getting soggy. This had just enough cheese and filling to balance out the rice and crispy coating. Excellent flavor and well made.

From there, we stopped into a little general store for an Italian lemon slush, a nice palate cleanser. The store was pretty crazy with all kinds of coffee and tea and the back shelf in jars and then the employees weigh them on a little bronze scale that's probably 100 plus years old. They also have a lot of random kinds of candy and your usual preserved Italian favorites like olive oils, roasted peppers, artichokes, etc. From there, it was onto Monica's for one of the best Italian subs around. Before we entered the shop, Anthony talked about the details of the sub, how it was created, how to make it and how to not make it. Remember, thin cold cuts are key! The sandwich was remarkable. Four meats, including salami, mortadella, prosciutto, and capicola. Also provolone, lettuce, tomato, red onion, and hot peppers. But there was also some fresh basil and aged balsamic vinegar to balance everything out. So the sandwich had heat, sweet, and salt. And the bread was quite unique. It reminded me a little of focaccia, I could taste the virgin olive oil. And it was very soft and squishy, sometimes I like a more crusty bread, but this was still really really good.

After hearing a few mafia stories, we went to an actual sitdown eatery, called L'Osteria, for some cheese ravioli and a glass of wine. Well, we actually had to purchase the wine, unfortunately, and it was about $12 a glass. Then came what may have been the highlight. First, we walked down an alley, which I think is how every exciting Italian neighborhood story begins. We then walked down a flight of stairs past a pasta shop and into a little building called Bricco. They make prosciutto bread, which is one of my favorite things in the world. But for the first time I tried a pastry called Sfogliotellle, which is layer after layer of flaky pastry. Inside is some custard, and a little orange zest and cinnamon. Oh my goodness, move over cannoli! This was perfect, not too sweet, intense flavor, not creamy or heavy. Perfection! I'm resentful to my Italian father that it took this long for me to discover this deliciousness! 

Finally, it was a cafe across the street for a scoop of vanilla gelato topped with a shot of espresso. Not a coffee guy, but with the gelato, it was a great finish to the tour, which lasted till about 3 pm.

On a random note, the North End, which is known for being Italian has a street called Bartlett Place. Odd since that's my mom's maiden name and that is the British side of the family. No streets with my last name to be found though! 

By the end of the tour, the rain was really picking up. I had met a mom and daughter from central New Jersey, not far from where I grew up. We decided to head into Modern Pastry and get some treats for the road. They were driving back to Jersey that night, I was just trying to get to the train quickly. I went with another Sfogliotelle along with a cannoli dipped in pistachios. I'm telling you for the last time pistachios > chocolate chips. The two pastries were not cheap, ten dollars, and they only take cash. And the line even went halfway down the block, but they have multiple cashiers who keep the line moving pretty well. 

After I got back to my car, I figured I had a long drive ahead of me and I did, still plenty of traffic to get out of Revere and back to the highway. I went back to the hotel to shower and refresh. Now I had my 5k the next morning, so I didn't want to eat anything too heavy. I decided to order takeout from Bertucci's, which I always liked visiting as a kid. There still is one outside DC about 3 hours away from me, but it's not exactly what I would call convenient for me to visit. So I ordered the Italian chopped salad and margherita pizza with chicken. Little did I know I would also get six of their amazing rolls with the spiced olive oil as well. I knew the salad and bread would pretty much finish me off. So the pizza, well, I saved that for the next night.

To top off the night, I had a glass of chianti, I recorded 3 videos for my YouTube channel and dozed off to bed.

New England, Day 3

Saturday was homecoming day. I woke up at 7, drank half a liter of water, and got dressed. I had my headband and wristbands on, taped the Breathe Right strip across my nose. I hadn't run an actual race in 18 months, I really didn't know how I would hold up. I knew this race was going to have some hills and it would go through the woods at times too. 

I drove the 15 minutes to Gordon College for my 20 year reunion. Well, I didn't expect to see anyone I knew from my class. But I guess I still wanted to go. The campus still looks great as ever, as I figured it would. I stretched out, did a short test run for 3 or 4 minutes. Unfortunately, I forgot the pre workout supplement in the hotel room. Not my finest hour.
 
The race began with the 1 mile run for the kids around the Quad. For our race, there were about 100 of us and we indeed had to go through the woods. The first mile was pretty good and I knew not to try to race too hard. For one thing, there were running groups doing this thing, and I know one of the runners finished in under 17 minutes. But also, I had another 5k the following weekend, it wasn't worth going all out. And as we went into the woods, it got a little tougher, I even rolled my ankle at one point, probably about halfway through the race. But I was able to push through and got one last sprint in to finish at 23:55. I know I'm capable of going faster. 

So at the finish line, I had my banana and water. Sadly, beer is not an option at a Christian school, but that's ok. I did see one kid wearing a Brady shirt and man I wanted to chastise him for supporting evil. I guess I did, just kind of under my breath. 

I didn't really have any need to hang around the runners anymore, so I went off to Lane Student Center to work on my computer a little and get some food. Dining services was serving brunch and I took full advantage. Steak and eggs, potatoes, veggies for plate 1. Then some sliced turkey, a slice of cheese pizza, salad, and roasted veggies. Finally for dessert, I wolfed down six apple cider donut munchkins, a cinnamon roll, and an amazing cup of spiced cider. '

I do have to say something about the pizza. I was well known in college for my ability to make pizza. I was even given a student service award for it, which in retrospect was really crazy, but it was very nice. So I had to have one slice of pizza and it was fine. But gone were the old conveyor belts that I used, now replaced by a Turbo Chef oven. They even moved the pizza area from the front right to the back center area. Where I used to make pizza, that is now the vegan area. And the grill area I'd work, which was on the front left side, that's now the nut allergy and gluten free spot. Things sure have changed in the last 20 years.

I decided to walk past Ferrin Hall, my old dorm for 2 years and over to Bennett Center, which is the athletic complex. Some of the kids were using the indoor climbing facility. I walked past the Gordon Hall of Honors. Quite a few people that I remembered. There was no one around that I knew, which was fine, like I said, I didn't expect anything. I didn't know a single runner, didn't know anyone while I was eating. I actually did recognize an old science teacher of mine, but it was not a situation where I thought she would remember me. But anyway, I thought I passed by Carter, the women's basketball coach. And I knew his wife Rebecca had to be around. And she and I had been high school classmates in Chicago a quarter century prior. I saw her in the gym lobby trying to keep control of her kids and it was awesome to see her again. Now I had told her I would be coming and I was hoping we could make something work out. Of course she had forgotten her phone, which explained why she had not texted me back that day.

But anyway, I got to hang out with her and her kids, while watching the women's soccer game on the Quad. There was a bounce house set up for the kids, and that kept them mostly occupied. Her oldest, Micah, had just come from a soccer game, he was the last of her 4 kids that I met, I think he's 7 or 8 years old. Another one of his friends joined him. And when the three of us revealed to each other that we all hated the New England Patriots, we began chest bumping. Micah was screaming that finally someone else felt the same way he did! Rebecca was nearly peeled over in laughter. One of the definite highlights of my trip.

The only person from Gordon I saw who I knew was Chris, who was in my class and now works for the school. He and I were more like acquaintances really, but it was cool to see him again.

By 2 pm, I was ready to go and the temperature was dropping a little. The skies were gray, but at least the rain had not started falling. I decided to drive east to Rockport, a small coastal town that I always enjoyed visiting. It's at the very end of Route 128, which is a super fast highway, but you have to remember to slow down once you get off of it, because it's a great speed trap. Truth be told, the cop I passed could have pulled me over, but I did get a little grace.

I always liked Rockport for the small independent shops crammed closely together and also the walls of rocks. One of my favorite things to do is walking those rocks out to the very edge and breathing in the salty air. then to see the waves crash against the rocks is pretty fantastic. 

By now I was hungry again and I stopped in a local restaurant called the Fish Shack. I took a seat at the bar and ordered a local IPA. It was the 1620 from Ipswich, absolutely fantastic to the point that I ordered a second. I figured I would just get some seafood, only an appetizer. I saw the fried clams and asked for an order. The menu said they were market price, I guess I should have asked. They cost 29 freaking dollars! Yes I got a large plate, but for that price, I expect a lot more than just clams.

I think I purchased my usual cheap sticker for my trunk and drive back to the hotel, which was about a 30 minute drive. It was 4:30 or so, and I just felt like relaxing. I did get one glass of wine to go with my leftover Bertucci's pizza. But I really had no desire to go out again that night, maybe it was the $29 clams! 

Oh and thankfully the hotel gave me a free toothbrush. I had packed the case for my Oral B electric, except I forgot the actual toothbrush! It's amazing, I always forget something when I travel.

New England, Day 1

I woke up on a Thursday morning at 2 am to make the hour drive from Newport News to Richmond. I had never flown out of there before but the flights looked better there than Norfolk or Newport News so I didn't mind. The parking lot could not have been easier. Seven dollars a day, and the bus driver told me I would be dropped off at my exact parking spot. I don't know how people can be that friendly at 3 am! Security didn't open till 4 am for the 5:15 flight, so I turned out to be early. In fact I probably could have slept another 45 minutes, but that's ok. 

Richmond has a facial recognition system at their security line, it's more than just giving your ID card and showing your boarding pass. The machine says it discards the photo as soon as the identity is verified. Hopefully that's true.

The flight to Charlotte was pretty smooth. One kid screaming a lot, but I have to remind myself it's ok. Because as a standby passenger, I'm thankful to get on. I have no right to complain about my seat location. On my flight, there were 27 passengers connecting to Orlando. I know that because the flight attendant said as much. So we had to wait for all of them to deplane first. The plane arrived in Charlotte 15 minutes early, so I would up with about 2 hours to kill. No issues making the flight to Hartford either.

So I landed, collected my bag, and walked outside to the rental car building. My Priceline reservation was with Alamo. I got my Toyota Corolla and drove north to Springfield, MA, my first time in that city. I hadn't eaten any solid food and I had been awake eight hours already. Since we don't have Wahlburger's in the region where I live, I had a chance to visit for the first time. I was the only customer in the restaurant on a Thursday at 11:15, which seems a little strange. I took down a double cheeseburger and sweet potato tots. I thought the burger was quite good, that government cheese has a pretty strong flavor. Being back in the north, I had to get used to once again ordering iced tea and asking for sweetener as opposed to half sweet and half unsweet like I do living south of the Mason Dixon line.

Then I made my trip to the Basketball Hall of Fame. Yes, it wasn't cheap, close to 30 bucks, but I had a great time. Very interactive with videos and all kinds of exhibits that talk about the progression of the game, the integration of the NBA, there's even an NBA Finals trophy you can hold. But the Hall is basically 3 levels that go in a circle above a basketball court so you can actually shoot around and dunk after you're done exploring. They even have a series of baskets that show the progression of the actual basket, from the initial peach baskets from the 1800s all the way to the modern graphite backboard and hoop. I could not believe how hard it was to sink a shot in the peach basket. With no backboard, every shot had to be perfect back then. And I will admit, I used to have a pretty good jump shot back in my high school and college days. But I have not shot a basketball in at least 15 years. And oh my God, my form was so off the mark. Eventually, I was able to sink consecutive 3's and I was done! But the other thing that was crazy was how tired I felt from the hard running. I mean I work out, I do cardio, but playing basketball is a whole different type of conditioning.

Then came the 2 and a half hour drive east on the Mass Pike. It was a nice ride, a lot of cheap tolls along the way. As I was driving east towards Boston and the North Shore, I actually did get a little emotional. As Miranda Lambert's "The House That Built Me" played through my speakers, I found myself identifying with that song. Felt like I was going back to a place of my youth when I was a different guy and maybe I wasn't so scarred, so jaded.

The traffic was a little rough once I got into the Boston area, but I worked my way back onto 95 and arrived at the Doubletree hotel in Danvers, MA, right near the merge of Rt 1 and 95. As it turned out, the hotel was packed because there were 8 weddings that weekend with guests staying at that hotel. I'm amazed I was able to book a room only 3 weeks prior!

I had a room on the 3rd floor, and it was very well maintained, very clean. The one thing I did not like was that my TV was not a smart TV. So I couldn't even play YouTube or music or anything like that through the device. 

After unpacking and cleaning up a bit, I drive to Salem and it took 35 minutes to drive 9 miles. That's one thing about Boston, I hadn't driven there in many years and with so little room, there are a lot of one lane roads and traffic just builds and builds. I arrived at Finz, a seafood restaurant right near the water. My friend of 20-plus years, Andrea arrived and I was so happy to see her. Our conversation was really easy and if the distance wasn't a thing, I can't help but wonder what we could have become. But at this point in my life, I'm in my early 40's, my peak has passed, I can't afford to ruminate on that or it'll just eat away at me. Anyway for my meal, I had clam chowder and lemon butter sea scallops with roasted potatoes and veggies. Wonderful food.

We walked along the main drag and the Halloweeners were celebrating since their little holiday was a month out. A pizzeria/candlestick bowling caught our attention and we went inside. It was a little dive, only four lanes, one employee, an AC/DC pinball machine. We decided to play a little and we went for about an hour. I used to candlestick bowl a little bit in my college days, but it's been two decades. With the pins and small ball, it's a totally different art than typical bowling. Oh and we couldn't keep score. We were told that some kid threw a ball into the monitor and it took the whole system out. So we had to use pencil and paper. Scoring bowling is akin to staring into the human brain. After about 1 frame, we decided screw it, let's just bowl till we knock em down. It got so intense, I was sweating through my shirt and I even had bruising on the front of my right shoulder from my bowling form. Yeah, my shoulder was chaffing against my shirt seam!

Anyway, we headed back to the car and I even gave her a framed picture of us from 20 years ago. Of course, she thought she looked fat at the time and began to feel bad about it. So I tried to turn it around and told her if that's how she really felt, she can see how far she's come. Not sure it was my smoothest line, but I tried. 

As we approached her ride, which was on the water, we stopped for a moment, just taking in the atmosphere. Cool night, boats on the water, some stars in the sky. I kissed her for the first time. She didn't expect it, and I didn't know if I was going to do it, but I did. She didn't hit me, so that's a plus. But she drove me back to my car and we said our goodbyes. But she called me as I was driving, saying she thought I might like some company. And we stayed on for about 25 minutes, we said good night as I pulled into the hotel parking lot.

 

I was in the mood for a drink, so I decided to stop in the hotel bar, and holy crap it was packed and loud. I guess everyone from the weddings decided to go in at the same time. I would say 60 or 70 people easily. I went with a Maine lunch beer for $9, a very well known beer from, I guess, Maine. It was not a cheap bar by any stretch. Couldn't get wine for less than 13, or a mixed drink for under 15. So after elbowing my way to the bar, I got my beer and took it back to the room. I think I played a little music to settle in. I would've watched some Ryder Cup highlights, but seeing the unmitigated disaster that the USA team was on Friday, I knew the competition was already over.

Chris Stapleton setlist

 

1. Nobody to Blame
2. Parachute
3. Second One to Know
4. Starting Over
5. Millionaire
6. Hard Livin'
7. Worry B Gone
8. White Horse
9. What Are You Listening To?
10. Maggie's Song
11. Whiskey and You
12. Arkansas
13. You Should Probably Leave
14. Midnight Train to Memphis
15. Crosswind
16. Cold
17. Free Bird / The Devil Named Music
18. Traveller
19. Fire Away
20. Broken Halos
21. Tennessee Whiskey

Philly, Day 3

Sunday was the first day in Philly I woke up and I could see the sun in all its glory without a cloud. And the heavy heat was already on. I began walking east towards the eastern edge of Chinatown into Franklin Square, where plans were being made to set up the Philadelphia Chinese Lantern Festival. The dragons, the pandas, they were all there. As I approached the Benjamin Franklin Bridge, which takes people into Camden NJ, I passed by the Bolt of Lightning display, which was much higher than I thought it would be. The 101 feet tall, 58-ton sculpture refers to the famous experiment in which Franklin flew his kite in an electrical storm.

The bridge walk was a little tougher than the Brooklyn Bridge walk, the incline seemed a little bit more extreme. I did run certain parts, particularly the downhill parts. I was hoping for something good to photograph, maybe a sign welcoming me into New Jersey. Maybe a good view of the cities. Not quite. I got into Camden and I was surrounded by grafitti and barbed wire. 

I figured it was time to turn around after a quick rest. Of course a cop saw me just kind of hanging around, standing in the shade created by a stop sign, and staring at my phone. All I was doing was checking my distance. He checked on me to make sure I wasn't lost. I assured him I wasn't lost, I just needed a minute. 

The total walk must have taken about 90 minutes, and the heat really added to the challenge. I was ready for breakfast, I even gave it and made a waffle. I may be the only one who likes those round egg patties, but I had 4 of them.

After cleaning up and packing, I was ready to check out. The front desk held my bag since I still had five hours to wait until my train departed for Virginia.

The eight block walk to the Benjamin Franklin Museum was really hard, maybe an after effect of the walk I had just done. I really wanted to get off my feet. The pain in both my big toes was especially sharp, I wish I had ibuprofen in my bag. The museum was ok, it gave a pretty detailed glimpse into the mind of Franklin, as well as his humor, his resilience, and his creativity. But it was so quick that I was out of there in less than 20 minutes. 

Onto lunch. And there was only one place to go, Angelo’s Pizza. They're well known for square shaped pizza as well as cheesesteak and hoagies. Unfortunately, you can't get a slice of pizza, so maybe I'll have to find some company to help me finish that off. So I went with hoagies, specifically the JYS, or junkyard special. Now this was a sandwich I had seen featured in the Food Network before. It was made at a deli in Philly called Sarcone's. They still have a bakery on the block, but the deli is now gone. I figured I'd never have it, so I've actually made it a couple of times at home to very good results. So Angelo's took that sandwich over and I was excited to try one in Philly. The sandwich is made of turkey, prosciutto, roasted peppers, sauteed spinach, fresh mozz, sharp provolone, fresh basil, and dry herbs on a crusty seeded Italian roll. I took a bite, and oh my goodness. The difference is the bread and the provolone. I can access the other components fine, but the crust on that bread and the unique taste of that provolone, you can't get those just anywhere. 

Man that was the best Italian sandwich I've had in maybe 10 years. JP Graziano in Chicago is great, but this may have been a little bit better. Oh and I ordered an Italian sub for later in the day. 

Needing a walk, I passed on the bus, and walked north. I made a stop in Mitchell & Ness. I never expected to buy anything, but I decided to check out their array of vintage sports wear. The cheapest thing I could find was a 1994 Rangers Stanley Cup t shirt for 40 bucks. For 20 or even 25, I'd have been in. Even basketball shorts were 85 bucks. Pass.

By now, I was desperate to sit down. But it would have taken as much time to take a train as it would have to walk. So I passed through City Hall and traveled east to a once again loaded Reading Terminal Market.

I picked up half a dozen cookies from 4th St Cookie Company for the trip home. I thought about having one right there, but they had no milk. So instead I decided to go next stall over to Old City Coffee for an iced chai tea latte. 6 bucks was a lot, even more than Starbucks, but it was fine. 

After walking the two blocks back to the hotel to get my bag, I collapsed on the lobby couch for about 20 minutes. I knew I was going to get back to the station early, but I didn't care. I didn't want to spend more money and I wanted to just rest. So I grabbed my bag and took the MSL train one last time to 30th St Station.

I have to say I'm very surprised the train station didn't have a bar. So instead I did get an Arnold Palmer at Pret a Manger for 6 bucks, and it was only 16 pounces, which was absurd. 

The train was scheduled to depart at 2:45 pm, but we left about 15 minutes late. I took the first seat I could because I knew it would be packed. And it was right next to the club car, I had a feeling I was going I have a cocktail. 

And then we got delayed outside of Baltimore due to equipment inspection. Shouldn't inspection take place before the train leaves? Just asking for a friend. 

Ultimately we arrived into Williamsburg an hour late. 

Here's what I'd say about Philadelphia. The people were pretty cool, they were actually friendly,  and I didn't expect it.  I expected to get crap for wearing New York stuff, but it barely happened. Maybe with the Mets being such a disgrace, they don't care. Lot of yuppie types around too, in terms of fashion sense. 

What I didn't like was the abundance of garbage. It reminded me of some of the old neighborhoods in Queens, with full black bags filled with trash sitting on the sidewalk, waiting to get collected. 

A lot of people were smoking, both cigarettes and weed, which I did not need. Of course being that it is a certain month, that presented additional annoying propoganda.

Also I saw plenty of homelessness. People sleeping on the sidewalks, or shuffling around with torn clothes. It was sad. Quite a few times I was avoiding eye contact or walking away from them just to reduce the hassle. 

I wish I could have met a few more people, aside from my fellow Mets fans on Saturday afternoon. I can't say I'm looking forward to going back soon, aside from the food! But it was a fun getaway for a weekend, which I sorely needed, and I'm glad I did go 

Philly, Day 2

My first sleep wasn't easy, as they rarely are in hotels. The room was pretty clean, but I still sprayed it down with disinfectant, something I've learned from Mom from all the traveling she's had to do from work. 

So I woke up early, around 6:30 am. While there was no rain falling, a layer of fog had settled in over the city. But the first order of the day was to run to the Art Museum, ala Rocky Balboa. Now the museum is only about 1.7 miles from my hotel, which is more than reasonable. Though if I'm being frank, running seems to be wearing on my feet more and more. I really do wonder if l will run another race, or at least one more than 3 miles. 

The run was pretty straightforward, going west on Race St, before making a 45 degree right turn and running northeast on Benjamin Franklin Parkway. And of course I was playing music from the movie soundtrack on my way. And there were still some puddles to work around, including on the museum steps. 

Back to the hotel I went for breakfast. Their buffet includes a waffle iron, a little bit of cereal and fruit, a few generic pastries and breads. But the hot bar did have bacon and I hadn't had bacon in a little while, maybe 2 months? And they didn't have eggs, but they had generic tater tots that looked like they came from the local elementary school.

The shower felt pretty good. And I made it to the Faith & Liberty Discovery Center, right when they opened at 10 am. I actually arrived about 20 minutes before they opened and I took some to reflect on everything that had been going on in my life recently and that's been defined by a lot of torment and hurt.

In the reflection garden adjacent to the center, I realized even Jesus was betrayed by ones closest to him. And I realize more and more why he came to earth and voluntarily went through all of the pain, suffering, and anguish that he did. So he could sympathize and relate to all people go through. That was his choice. The commercials about Jesus getting us. I get that. And that's him showing true love, the truest love there is. Not the weak version that culture tries to talk about that's nothing more than an impulsive feeling. While I think I always knew that, it may have taken something like this to truly own it. I know my faith grew this week. I hope it will reflect in how I think, act, and live.

More people need to know about this museum!

I arrived when they opened on a Saturday and I was the only in the building for the first hour. The center focuses on six virtues: love, faith, justice, liberty, hope, and unity. It went into how America had been defined by these virtues in the past and how they've played roles in shaping the future of this country. Very interactive with music, theaters, testimonies, artifacts, and personality profiles, which is a big deal for me.

I probably spent over an hour there and it was one of the best museums I've been to. Unfortunately, it costs ten bucks to get in and with so many free attractions in the area, I have concerns that it will get overlooked. The museum has existed two years and I hope it will exist for a while longer. 

Lunch was much needed and I headed to Old City at the eastern end of Market Street, not far from Franklin Fountain. I wanted a cheesesteak and I opted for a joint that isn't well known, called Oh Brother Philly. I got the cheesesteak on a seeded roll with mushrooms, onions, and provolone. It did take 15 minutes to come out, but that's fine with me since you know it's being made fresh. Awesome sandwich, I love the seeded bread, first of all. The steak was decently seasoned, I'd say my one complaint was the cheese was placed on top of the meat, when it should be in between the bread and the steak. 

Then it was time to head down to South Philly for the tailgate. I took the MFL to 15^th, transferred to the BSL, and traveled south to nrg.

Inside Xfinity Live, Mets fans were already gathering. We had a special, $4.50 for Bud, Woke Light, and Michelob Ultra. Truthfully, I'm fine with regular Bud, but I'd rather spend twice that much for a good quality beer with a little more flavor. 

And the Cloud Walker IPA from Victory Beer Hall hit the spot. It was one of the most balanced enjoyable IPAs I've tasted in a long time, it was certainly my favorite beer from the weekend. I would up getting a second one of those. 

I also tried a Stateside peach vodka and iced tea, a lot of folks were trying their drinks. It was decent, but 13 bucks for that can was way too much. I rather would have had an orange crush inside or maybe another beer. 

I finally tried crabfries from Chickie and Pete's, a true staple of Philadelphia. The bucket was pretty huge so I decided to pass a few out and make some friends. The Old Bay style seasoning adhered so well to the crispy crinkle cut spuds. And the rich white cheese sauce was the perfect dipping complement. I don't know about 12 bucks a bucket, but yes, they were delicious. 

Most of us assembled inside PBR, a country themed bar with a mechanical bull right in the middle. More than a few of us tried to ride it, some better than others. I was not one of them. But between 12 and 3, we went from maybe 50 Mets fans to maybe 1,000, and I know 1,500 tickets were sold. 

It wasn't until 3:30 that we headed into the stadium. Mets actually played a good game and won 4-2.

I did want to try a sandwich at Tony Luke's or Campo's in the outfield concourse, but the lines were way too long. And I thought about photographing the Phillies Hall of Fame, but after seeing such wretched names like Juan Samuel and Pat Burrell, mediocre players who killed the Mets in unique ways, I wanted to go vomit. 

I left in the 8th inning, I wanted to go back to the hotel and clean up. I didn't care about leaving before a win, I saw what I needed to see. So I caught the 47 bus from 9th and Market, literally as it pulled up to the stop. I took the bus down to Catharine St and walked two blocks to Ralph’s, the oldest Italian restaurant in America, founded in 1900.

I rarely eat Italian food out, about the only time is if I'm in New York or in a legit Italian neighborhood, such as the North End in Boston or Federal Hill in Providence. The Hill in St. Louis, pass.

They had one small dining room, they probably can't get more than 60 people in at a time. To start off, I got an order of roasted peppers and homemade mozzarella. I was leaning towards one of their salads, but I was told they'd be too much for just me. Clearly this waiter didn't know who he was dealing with. But nevertheless, they do make their own mozz in house, so it seemed like a good start. Several times I would lay a slice of mozzarella on their squishy Italian bread, spoon on some peppers, and just eat that. Maybe a little more olive oil or even some fresh basil would've helped, but it was really good. 

I knew I had to get the meatballs, it's one of the dishes they're famous for. I got two large ones smothered in their homemade red sauce with a dollop of ricotta. I've never been a ricotta eater, but I figured I could sneak a little bit in. These ground beef and pork meatballs were excellent, super tender and meaty. And I loved the depth of that sauce, I'm pretty sure some meat bones were simmered in that pot!

Admittedly I struggled with what to order next. I thought about clams casino or some broiled sausage with long hot peppers, but I was all peppered out. Finally, with some input, I chose the chicken capriccioso, which had two chicken breast filets topped with eggplant, prosciutto, white wine, tomato sauce, and mozzarella. Unbelievably good, the wine added a nice tanginess to the dish. Cheese was well melted, chicken was moist, eggplant wasn't rubbery. 

Dessert wasn't even a thought by this point, I was loaded. I think one more bite and I would have been in some pain.

With two glasses of Chianti, and the tip, it came to $75. Well worth it, I would definitely return, just hopefully not alone. 

Once again, I caught the bus right as it pulled up, that's twice in one night! And for the second straight night, I collapsed on the bed. 

Philly, Day 1

The trip started on a Friday. Early. I was up at 3:30 am, for whatever reason, I decided to do 15 minutes of lifting weights in the gym. The train left Williamsburg right on time, we got into Philly at 12 noon, so it took 6 hours to go from Williamsburg to Philadelphia. Still happy that parking is free in Williamsburg, I know that's not the case at most Amtrak stations.

Sadly, the people running these train stations haven't figured out yet that escalators might be a wise investment. So I had to lug my fully packed Samsonite up and down slippery staircases.

The first challenge came at the SEPTA station. The vending machine wouldn't accept my debit card, and after all the shit I've dealt with financially in the last 2 months, I was worried what might be happening with my account. So I had to pay cash. And as I found out later from others, they were having issues getting cards from vending machines as well.

So I collected my transit card, loaded it with a 3 day pass, and headed to the Market Street Line eastbound to Reading Terminal Market. Hey, if I'm in Philly, first thing I'm doing is eating. 

And the first spot was Tommy Dinic’s for a roast pork sandwich. Talk about a smooth running operation. Two people handled the orders and payments. One guy handles the sandwich assembly. They probably have another couple of guys preparing each component of the sandwiches. 

Soft roll with a little crustiness, thinly sliced juicy pork, chopped broccoli rabe, and shaved sharp provolone. Simple, but sensational. Frigging amazing and that provolone absolutely made it. Well worth the hype. 

As for Hershel’s east side deli, well, I guess I wanted some pastrami since I can't get any authentic in southeast Virginia anymore since Route 58 Deli closed. The sandwich with Swiss and brown mustard was ok, the pastrami was a little fatty, very tender. But I didn't care for the seeded rye bread, it tasted a day or two old. I would up eating the pastrami and Swiss with a fork instead. I wish I would have had another Dinic's sandwich. 

I couldn't yet check in at the Sleep Inn hotel in Chinatown on Cherry St. I will say this, it's in the middle of a lot of Chinese markets and restaurants, and the smell of Asian sauces and garbage dumpsters permeated the air my entire stay. 

The cost to check in early would have been $35. I gave the front desk both my bags and I had to change clothes in the hotel restroom. I knew rain was in the forecast for the afternoon, so I wanted to put on my jeans and grab my green Jets rain slicker. 

My first stop was the US Mint, one of the two or three in the country where coins are still made. I enjoyed seeing the actually factory with the coin presses, the 1600 degree furnace, etc. There were no photos allowed, so I couldn't record anything. But it was a fun free hour of my time. I did get stuck behind an elementary school field trip, that delayed security a little bit. 

Anyway, as the rain started to pick up, I walked about ten minutes north to Yards brewery. It was a kind of younger, yuppie sort of clientele. I did try the 8 bit flight, which was 4 IPAs. They were ok, but on a mild rainy day, I wasn't looking for a tropical hazy beer. In total, I think I sampled 7 beers. The favorite was probably the brawler, a mild English ale and for Happy Hour, I got a 20 ounce for five bucks. I did get a $6 order of wings with peach habanero sauce. They had a nice spicy punch to them, nothing really special though. Nice staff too, quite friendly.

Oh and on one of the TVs at the bar, they replayed Rangers vs Devils Game 4 from this past year's NHL playoffs. Like I really needed a reminder of that disastrous series...

By now the rain was really picking up. I took the MFL from Spring Garden westbound to City Hall and 15^th St for Happy Hour. And I went right to the Village Whiskey. Not a big place, but I was very impressed with their menu. And it wasn't easy to decide, there were really 5 or 6 restaurants I was considering going into. But they had a great Nashville hot chicken slider, and for 5 bucks, it was fantastic. The fried pickles made me wish i had someone with me to split them; they were crispy and served with a nice Buffalo aioli sauce, but there were just so many of them. The fried shrimp slider, i could have done without, there was just too much bread. 

But probably the highlight for me was the Daisy Cutter beer from Half Acre in Chicago. I had not had one of these beers in maybe 8 or 9 years. And for 5 bucks, it was great to enjoy one again. They did have over 100 whiskeys, ranging from 8 dollar Irish Bushmill's to a Kinsey priced at 74 dollars. I can't think of any drink worth paying 74 bucks for... and that's not factoring in tax and tip. And the bar staff was super engaging and conversational, maybe the coolest staff I encountered over the weekend. 

6 pm was approaching, so happy hour was over. I was a little torn on where to go next. I'd been awake 16 hours and my stomach was filled with food and beer, so I was drained in multiple ways. I did decide to take the train on the Broad Street Line down to nrg, where the Sports Complex is. And that was one freaky train ride, it was like Halsted St in Chicago or Christopher St in Manhattan. I did not need to see some things I saw, let's leave it there. I didn't really have interest in entering the stadium anyway, so i went into Xfinity Live. After about 20 or 30 minutes, it just occurred to me I did not want to stand on my feet for hours watching a probable Mets loss, which is of course what happened. So I left immediately and walked the five minutes back to the nrg station. 

Sadly, the BSL train did not have a working air conditioner, and I felt my shirt repelling off my torso from all the sweat. 

I didn't want any more savory food, alcohol, nor did i want to hit up a club. So I connected to the MSL line and took it east to 2nd Street. I wanted to get ice cream at Franklin Fountain, and it's a place I've known about for 7 or 8 years. I liked the old school menu, it seemed like a step back in time with phosphates, ice cream sodas, and Hydrox, the precursor to Oreos.

I ordered a medium bowl, so I could select two flavors instead of just one. I went with vanilla as well as caramelized banana, a flavor I'd never heard of before. I desired a waffle bowl, but I thought it would be smarter to spend on the toppings. My choices were salted almonds and peanut butter sauce. Oh and I scored free sprinkles. I loved that peanut butter, it tasted so roasted and real, it had that really deep earthy peanut flavor. 18 bucks was a lot, and I couldn't justify doing this often. But for ice cream dishes, this is one of the best I've ever had. 

Finally, after one more train ride west to 11th St, it was time to check in. They told me the fitness room is out of order, and I planned to run outside anyway so I wasn't too bothered by that. But I was concerned about getting water.  I did have two 16 ounce bottles in my bag, but I knew I was going to need more than that. 

And the only solution was to use the hot water machine on the second floor in the breakfast area. I would have to fill my 32 ounce blender bottle, and let it cool in the fridge overnight. Except on the machine, there wasn't enough room under the spout to fit the bottle. So I had to fill paper cups of hot water and then pour them into the bottle! Took maybe 5 minutes for each bottle fill. 

Around 8:45 pm, exhausted and full, I settled in bed. 

WWE Hampton results

Bianca Belair* vs Asuka vs Bayley

KOD

Ricochet vs Omos*

Chokeslam

Rhea Ripley* vs Zelina Vega

Tapout 

Rey Mysterio and Santos Escobar* vs Damian Priest and Dominic Mysterio

619 and splash

OC* vs Imperium

Magic killer

Austin Theory* vs Sheamus

Missed Brogue, roll up

Matt Riddle vs Solo Sikoa*

Solo spike

Cody Rhodes* vs Finn Balor

Cross rhodes 

Scammed and Violated

It's taken me 4 weeks to where I felt I could write this story. I've told it over and over again now to the point where I'm tired of repeating the same details. Have you ever noticed that sometimes when you tell the same story, you might feel the urge to switch up a little detail just to keep it sounding fresh so you're not repeating the same thing over and over? Maybe by writing this down it can become a cathartic experience and hopefully it will help me.

May 10, 2023. 

That date will be forever tattooed into my memory. I was at my desk at work, about an hour into my day, just an other Wednesday. At around 10:15, my phone started to buzz. I looked down to my left and it was a text message from a number I did not recognize.

It said it was from Bank of America, and that a fraudulent transaction had been attempted from my account and I was given their fraud line to call. In my pivotal mistake, I called the provided phone number. I heard the opening jingle "Welcome to Bank of America."

As soon as I heard the Calcutta accent, I should have known I was being bullshitted. Anyway, this guy said an illegal wire transaction had been attempted from my account by a man named Jeffrey Green in Mexico. He asked if I knew him, and I said no. He then said this was an ongoing criminal case and I would be forwarded to a US Marshall in Eastern Texas named John Garrison. 

I checked the Marshall website and the name did match. So I talked with asshole #2 and he explained I had to leave work immediately and withdraw all money from my accounts. My accounts were prone to fraud and they had to be protected and put into a secured wallet as he phrased it. I drove 10 minutes to Bank of America in 90 degree heat and he stayed on the phone. I withdrew all the money in my checking as well as all the money from my football club's account. In total it was $10,540.

And the secure wallet turned out to be a local crypto machine. I felt weird about it. I asked if I would be able to access my money within 24 hours as he promised. He said yes. He lied.

I'm guessing you're reading this and thinking I'm the biggest sucker in the world. Well, that's how I basically felt.

But understand this. These bastards know exactly how to manipulate, how to create fear, how to create doubt, and even give the impression that they want to help.

I had scan my driver's license to create my account, which was in my name. Long story short, I went to 2 different convenient stores and my money was deposited, aka stolen.

When they then asked me to withdraw my retirement and savings credit union accounts, that's when I realized I was getting fucked. Because who are these people to know the status of my other accounts?

I called the real BOA bank fraud line and they told me nothing strange had been attempted. I can't remember the last time I felt that empty, that violated, that robbed; I felt financially and mentally raped.

And then I knew it was time to get buys. That night, I spoke to a police officer, I froze my credit. The next day, I visited the local bank branch and told them what happened, and I launched an investigation. A week later, I changed my driver's license, I was worried information from that had been stolen. 

After waiting for the weekend, I got tired of waiting for the cop to call me back and I filed an online police report. 

Hell, I even called the real Marshall's office in Texas to let the know the man was being impersonated. Anything to take these scammers down, I will do it.

I also submitted a fraud claim to bitcoin depot. But they let me know all transactions are irreversible. So I'm not getting it back from them. The best they can do is return the fees to me and I've submitted the report for that. I can't imagine it would be much at all, but every little bit does matter.

There's no guarantee any of the money will be restored. The problem is the money is all in crypto and I made the transaction, so even though I was being clearly manipulated, scammed, and mind-raped, it may not matter to the bank. I know about FDIC protection, but I'm approaching this like a sports team or a date. I expect nothing and hope for the best.

What really sucks is the payments for my rent, Roth IRA, and mutual funds were all scheduled to pay on the 10th. They all paid one day late. Had they paid as they should have, it would have saved me $2,200.

I am thinking a lot about why this happened, why God allowed it to happen, what have I done wrong that warranted this complete robbery and violation. I don't have the answers to any of those questions yet. I may never know. What I do know is what happened to me is as traumatic as anything I've dealt with in many many years. 

But just because these lowlifes stole thousands of dollars from me, it does not mean that they win. I beat them in the way I live my life, and not allowing myself to fall into bitterness. So now it's about getting back what was stolen. I have a goal to save $5,000 between now and December. I moved over $5,500 from my mutual funds into my checking account.

So I have put up a support page, a Gofundme, so I can stay on top of my bills, which aren't going to stop and also so I can replenish my savings.

If you would like to donate, please visit the following link:

https://www.gofundme.com/manage/scammed-by-hackers-for-10000

Thank you for reading.

DC/Alexandria

I left home around 7:45. I've done this drive enough times now to know that the southern stretch is always easier than the northern part. Usually Fredericksburg is where traffic slows to a crawl. This time, the drive up took 2 hours and 45 minutes and the traffic didn't start until I got to around Woodbridge. 

My first stop was the Old Towne Farmer's Market. After the financial shit unloaded on me this past Wednesday, I wasn't intending to buy much. But I do enjoy farmer's markets and in a great little neighborhood like Old Towne, it seemed like a worthwhile pursuit. 

For produce, I got one poblano pepper and two heirloom tomatoes. The strange part was that the heirloom tomatoes and this one stand were only 50 cents more than the regular tomatoes. At $3.99/pound, it seemed like a good deal. I think the poblano will go into my baked penne. I also snagged a cinnamon morning muffin, basically a cinnamon sugar donut in the shape of a muffin. Had to get one pastry!

Then it was onto Frank Pepes pizza, for a taste of New Haven in DC. I did my usual: white clams, bacon, and roasted peppers, which surprised the waitstaff, they had never seen the combination. But it's so good: the sweetness of the peppers, the crunch and saltiness of the bacon, and the silkiness of the clams. 

I stayed at the Holiday Inn on Eisenhower St. What was so cool, besides the free parking, was that the hotel was literally right next to the King St station on the Yellow line of the DC Metro rail. I arrived at 12 and I wasn't surprised that my room wasn't quite ready yet. So I let my phone charge while I did some blogging. Of course, there was no working outlet in the business center so I had to plug my phone in across the lobby and keep a keen eye on it from a distance.

So I left for downtown DC, and it was so much faster taking the Yellow line instead of the blue. After getting off at the Navy Yard stop, the Bullpen bar was right across the street. Now the weather forecast had promised rain around late afternoon and the Mets Nationals game was scheduled to start at 4 pm. So I was going to the game not expecting to see the whole thing get played. But it didn't matter because I knew I would get to see some friends and meet a couple of former Mets. Howard Johnson and Ed Lynch, who played for the Mets during the 1980's. Both incredible guys, super engaging. Ed Lynch even opened up packs of 1989 baseball cards, and he'd tell stories about random players on the cards. We learned about everyone from Gary Pettis to Dwight Evans to Tim Crews to Claudell Washington.

Unfortunately, the rain delay did happen in the top of the 3rd inning, but the rain had been falling steadily since the first inning. Joey Lucchesi had no ability to grip the ball and his pitches were flying all over the place. I was terrified of ex-Met Trevor Williams, I figured seven shutout innings was the likely scenario. Now the rain was expected to go until about 7 or 8 pm. But I knew if that happened, the game wouldn't end until 9 or 10 pm and I wouldn't be able to get dinner in Alexandria. 

So with the front of my jeans soaked by the rain, my phone losing battery, and not wanting to wait 3-4 hours, I got on the Green line for two stops before transferring to the Yellow. And I really wanted to check in, take a hot shower, and change clothes. Unfortunately, that took a little longer than anticipated. When the front desk clerk asked me to insert my card for incidentals, I did a double take. My eyebrow raised as I noticed someone else's card was still in the reader. So we had to cancel the transaction, except the computer was now frozen because of the inserted card. Then, the front desk moved me over to other other machine and fill out the paperwork. It took about ten minutes to get the job done. But but but, they did give me a free breakfast for the trouble and I'm willing to bet I was far from the only one who received one of those paper slips.

My room was located on the 6th floor, about halfway up the building, with a view of the train station and the highway, And the double queen bed room was kept clean. Very comfortable and organized, I had no issues. It felt so good to jump in the hot shower and let my soaked hoodie and jeans dry overnight. I was so glad I packed an extra pair of tapered Levi's for the evening!

For dinner, I walked to Ted's Montana Grill, right across the street. I've always been a Ted's fan, but I hadn't been to one in many years, since the nearest one to me is about three hours away. But any restaurant that starts your meal with a bowl of thick cut dill pickle slices makes me happy. The staff was a little disorganized, I had three servers over the course of my meal. But they were certainly nice. I started with a cup of bison chili, I needed something hearty in my stomach after all that rain. And I definitely added the full package of oyster crackers, since those jalapeno slices were really hot! The bison bacon cheeseburger with grilled onions was excellent, along with the side of 50/50 fries and onion rings. I don't know why horseradish sauce works so well with onion rings, but it really does. Oh and I might have finished off a second bowl of pickles.

I didn't have a drink with dinner, but I was in the mood for one cocktail, so I walked about 6 quiet blocks east to Tacos & Tequila, obviously a Mexican restaurant. I would've been open to having dinner there too, I like that they have taco cards with about 15 options or so, and you can just mark whichever ones you want. I ordered a smoky margarita which was made not only with tequila, but mezcal as well. Now I had heard of mezcal, but I admit, I didn't know much about it. Well, it definitely was the dominant flavor in this margarita. And it's more than 50% ABV, so it's quite a bit stronger than tequila. I drank it, but I'm really not sure I would ever order a mezcal drink again, it went right to the sides of my throat with a touch of burn. The neighborhood was a little strange, just a quiet part of Alexandria, mostly made of office buildings but it feels like the area has a lot of potential for more commerce.

On Sunday, I woke up without an alarm around 7:45 am. I thought about going to the gym, but I didn't feel a physical workout was what I really needed. I decided to do some reading, specifically Tim Tebow's Shaken. After about 45 minutes of trying to build my mental life, I headed six floors downstairs to redeem my free breakfast. I had bought along my water bottle to fill it up...only to find out the hotel did not have a water fountain. Not even in the gym. That is a major knock. But the front desk did give me a free 16 ounce Dasani bottle, which I guess was the least they could have done.

OK, anyway back to breakfast. The dining area was quite crowded. There was even a group of 10 or 12 people from China right next to me. I swear I saw one guy with a hat that said "Make China Great Again." I'm not even sure if that was a serious hat or sarcasm. And I ordered a three egg omelet, and I'll say this, with the size of that omelet, these eggs must have come from an ostrich. I got it with bacon, cheddar cheese, spinach, mushrooms, and tomatoes, and it was great. I also really liked the potatoes o'Brien and a few dashes of Tabasco sauce made them even better. I could have done without the generic wheat toast, however.

And then the waitstaff tried to say the paper only was good for $15. I said ok, sure, and no problem, in about as dismissively as I possibly could. I wasn't going to pay a single cent. After all I've gone through in the last four days, there was no way in hell I was paying a dime. I discreetly placed the paper under the plate, walked to the elevator, and headed back to my room to clean up and pack. 

With some time to kill, I drove to the Del Ray neighborhood of Alexandria, which I think used to be the now defunct city of Potomac. It's a very plush area, with a little bit of commerce. I admit I wanted to stop in the coffee shop and get a chai. But right now I have to be careful with my spending. I have a savings goal in mind between now and December and every decision affects that.

I parked underground and walked over to Old Towne Community Church. I wanted to be in church on this day. It was a small congregation, maybe 50-60 people, but they were super friendly and receptive. And the pastor noticed my Mets shirt, and we talked baseball for a few minutes before the start of the service. Really a good experience.

If the choice were mine, I would have walked around Old Towne a little longer and had lunch before making my way home. There were several ideas I had, including Mia's Italian Kitchen, which serves an 18 ounce meatball. But I'll have to hold off on that. Instead, I stopped at Potbelly on the way home for a big Mediterranean sandwich. I got home at 4 pm, immediately ran the laundry, and headed out to play to straight volleyball matches. Always on the move.

Detroit

I woke up around 4:00 am to catch my first of four flights on that Thursday, from Norfolk to Washington DC. Of course I got there about an hour early, because the Norfolk security line is incredibly unpredictable. Pretty smooth flight, no drama with the boarding pass, it was emailed to me about 2 hours before the flight. 

In DC, I felt like breakfast, so I hit up a sit down tavern and had a great egg white and turkey sausage sandwich on an English muffin. I especially enjoyed the flavor of the turkey sausage, I wondered if I could somehow replicate it. I just drank iced tea, I've never been a big fan of bloody marys, coffee liquers, and other breakfast cocktails.

I boarded the flight to Detroit and was given seat 11A. Turns out I was upgraded to 1A in first class. And of course I had probably the gayest flight attendant crew I've ever seen. I won't get into details, but let's just the way they talked, and the type of humor couldn't be ignored. I'm not getting into a whole thing here, but these guys were at work and they should have been a little more considerate. I did order a screwdriver and it was pretty good while listening to a Dateline podcast. Something about true crime.

We landed 20 minutes sooner than expected. I was excited, I was thinking maybe I could snag an earlier bus to downtown. So our gate was on the far end of the terminal and I had to walk to the middle to exit, which took a good five minutes. I then had to go up three floors via escalator, walk over a jet bridge, then take an elevator three same three floors down to get to ground transportation. And as I walked over the bridge, I could see the 261 bus and it was ready to pull out. I got downstairs just in time to be too late. So i had to wait an extra 30 minutes to leave. But hey, I was the only passenger on the 11 am bus. I wish he could have just asked me where I needed to go and just taken me there. 

I got the next bus 30 minutes later and it took an hour to get to Woodward and Clifford, about two blocks away from Comerica Park. but I still arrived around 12, giving me about an hour before the game. The stadium does not appear high but the playing surface is a good amount of height below street level, I guess the thinking was to not overwhelm the skyline with a baseball stadium. 

I always appreciate a ballpark with statues to pay respect to the past and Detroit had 6 for players like Ty Cobb, Willie Horton, Hank Greenberg, and Al Kaline. When I entered the park in the right field corner, there was also a statue dedicated to the late Ernie Harwell, the long time broadcaster. 

For food, I went with a couple of steak tacos and an Atwater City Juice beer. Both excellent.

My seat was the front row of the upper deck behind home plate, which is usually my favorite. Justin Verlander was making his pitching debut for the Mets, and as he's a former Tiger, the crowd was pretty into it. And speaking of the crowd, it must have been field trip day. If it wasn't for those kids, the stadium would have sounded like a cemetery.

Verlander gave up back to back homers in the first inning and that's all the Tigers would need. The Mets had no offense again, they let Eduardo Rodriguez look like Sandy Koufax in his prime, getting shut out over eight innings. And I love Brandon Nimmo, but when you get caught stealing in the ninth innings, down two runs, with one out...that's a purely stupid baseball decision.

I got the bus back to the airport, which was another hour. Not wanting to hang around downtown made that decision easy. I had three hours to kill so I went over to theairport's Atwater Brewery, plugged in, and had an amazing burger and a couple more brews. I even chatted with a guy named Chris, who was a really good dude. 

The gate for Charlotte was slammed. I figured they would email me my boarding pass, which is the standard operating procedure at most airports now. But I didn't get one, and after nearly all the passengers had boarded, I went to the desk. Much to my horror, they told me they had called my name several times but I had not responded. I never heard them! So they had given my seat away, but one woman for whatever reason, had to get off, I think due to a connection issue. So I got her seat! I was so lucky! Suffice to say on the connecting flight, my eyes were zoned in on the standby board. I eventually got home about 12:30 am. 

So let's recap the numbers. My travel day lasted 21 hours, the game lasted a shade over two hours. I took 4 plane rides...and my team got only 3 base hits. Such is the plight of the 2023 New York Mets.

I Backed Out

I haven't written here in so long. It seems all I write about faithfully is my travel. The sports writing has taken a backseat to my Youtube channel, which just got to 500 subscribers, I'm so proud of hitting that milestone. 

By the way, if you are interested, here is the link. Please like and subscribe...

https://youtube.com/@wa2k99

But I will get personal for a moment.  I was supposed to run the Shamrock 8k this morning in Virginia Beach. I had trained for six weeks. Waking up early, downing pre energy, pushing myself through difficulty, long distances, numerous miles. 

But all through the process, it never felt quite right. I mean that more mentally that physically. While training, I didn't feel I had my old burst from years before, especially before COVID screwed everything up. Maybe it's age, maybe it's time off, maybe it's the shoes, it could be all of them?

I don't know if I'm going to run another competitive race; not that anyone would notice outside of the few friends and family I have who know that I do this. I'll still work out, but I think about the 90 minutes it took to drive on Friday night to get my race packet, then the hour drive home. Then waking up at 5:45 to a steady rain and 45 degrees. But still I gulped down 2 Dave's English muffins topped with almond butter along with a banana and made the 45 minute drive to the oceanfront. 

The free parking had been relegated from a large open public lot to a little grammar school. I couldn't get a free spot, and somehow that fueled my disgust with the whole process. It wasn't the only reason I did what I did, it just pushed me over the cliff. So...I left. I never ran my race. 

Instead, I went and did a bunch of deliveries. After, I came home and did 4 miles on the treadmill. I know, it sounds ridiculous. I guess I did it out of spite to feel like I had some something. I tried to go fast, around 8 mph, but it was hard to get to 5 miles. Maybe I didn't even want to get to 5. Because that's what I was scheduled to run this morning. I did do 4 miles in 30 minutes, if that means anything. 

But other things just get to me now. There was a girl in Raleigh I tried to get to know from Facebook, she's an admin in a singles group I participate in. Native Hawaiian too. But when i asked for a phone call, she said she wasn't emotionally available and cut me off.

And there's the mysterious bitch at work who thinks I went to fast at work for her. She reported me and now I'm in trouble with my boss. I have absolutely no idea who it is or what I did wrong. Funny thing is I can do so many great things, no one will talk about them. But one person... one person. That is all it takes to jeopardize a life. 

So you know what? Fuck that bitch for trying to ruin my life. My business is personal and if someone tries to mess with my living, they are messing with my identity, my ability to live. Does that sound like too strong a statement? Think for a moment about my state. I'm a single guy,  41 years old, living in a middle to lower class area where I am a minority. 

It's even affecting church. Where I live, it's damn near impossible to find a church with people I can relate to. Mom has a good one now in Durham and I'm happy for her, really happy. On the peninsula of Virginia, you get the ghetto people, you get the rednecks, you get the military families. I would probably have to drive 45 minutes east or northeast to find relatable people. But... deep down, it's being around people who already know each other. They have their relationships established. And me, well I'd just be some pitiful charity case. I'm single so something must be wrong with me. I don't want pity. I just want to be useful and appreciated. 

So for the last few months, I've been watching online messages every Sunday just to recreate that church feeling. I was blessed to experience some of the greatest churches possible when I lived in Chicago. It's hard to have that again. And yeah, I shouldn't compare. But I can't forget those great days when I was in my 20s. Damn it, let me have old Willow Creek back if it means Bill can keep doing improper things,  even if they were never proven. 

I know now I don't want to be around people as much as I used to. I was always the person who was reliable to show up on time to every event. That's not the case anymore. As old singles groups dissolve due to marriages and bureaucracy, friends disappear. And as we get older, people have families and that understandably becomes their world. But where I am, it seems social media is most of my social life, aside from the Virginia Jets Fans group. And social media really can set me off because it truly exposes how stupid some people are. And God didn't give the ability to ignore stupidity.

I now am realizing I'll never get married or have kids, so there isn't anything more important than my ability to work and have a little enjoyment once in a blue moon. 

I may have become more self centered than I was. I can tell because of how much I work and forego a lot of social opportunities. And that was never my aspiration. But hey, people don't seem to be as social as they used be either. And I think long term. Once my parents are gone, there will be no one in my life. No siblings, no kids, no one. 

By the way, of course Edwin Diaz hurt his knee celebrating a stupid, meaningless World Baseball Classic win. Only the Mets, would that happen to. 3 or 4 bullpen guys already hurt, a starting pitcher will be out 4 months, Brandon Nimmo hurt his ankle sliding, he's out at least a month. This Mets season is already cursed. 85 wins. Maybe. Steve Cohen can inject money. Can't inject health.

As I write this, I'm sitting on my back porch for the first time in the 4 plus years I've been living in this apartment. The ledge actually comes up to my eye level, so I can't see much except blue sky,  barely leafed trees, and the triangular tops of other buildings. But somehow it feels like an escape from everything. From the hateful people, from the fighting, from the oppression, from the judgement, from the societal need to be perfect.