Travel Day II
Another day, another trip. Over the past few years I've collected refrigerator magnets as an informal journal of my travels. They hold family snapshots and the various watercolor creations my daughter churns out. Denver, Cincinnati, Kansas City, New York, Seattle, Chicago, Phoenix, Washington D.C., New Orleans, Palm Springs, Albany, Tampa... Sometimes the gods smile on these trips, like when I found out Steely Dan was playing fifteen miles away while on a trip to West Palm Beach. Twenty bucks snagged a scalper's ticket and I sat in the grass and listened to Donald Fagan promise never to go back to his old school. Sweet. Usually though, the fare is much more bland.

Every city has it's own character but every hotel is exactly the same. Same TV, bed, little shampoo containers: anonymous and sterile. If I'm staying long, I take some pictures and put them next to the bed. It's a small attempt to recreate what cannot be moved, that sense of home.

Two days and I'll be back on the porch with Chester, watching the bay.