My Long Weekend Update...

Where do I begin?

Many weeks ago, Mary and I planned a long weekend at a beachside hotel in Daytona Beach to coincide with a.) My birthday; b.) The 25th anniversary/second honeymoon of our good friends, the Keefauvers.

I last saw Brad in April 2006 at Wrestlemania in Chicago. My gosh, has it almost been a year already? He and Kathy had some Fairfield points and elected to stay at the Oceanwalk next to our favorite Daytona haunt, the Main Street Pier and the Mardi Gras Fun Center.

Now, I didn't know Brad and Kathy 25 years ago, so I missed joining them on their first honeymoon. Having spent at least 16 years vacationing at Daytona Beach, we were all set to show them a good time this time around. Plus, I was going to prove that I could walk into the Mardi Gras and demand 100,000 Tootsie Rolls and GET THEM due to our 16 years vacationing in Daytona Beach and many accumulated points.

We arrived at out hotel at around noon. Our spacious suite (Priority Club perk) was not yet readied, so while management horse-whipped the housekeeping team for this indiscretion (or whatever they do), we took the opportunity to check the place out. I mean, we searched for the bar.

Heading out to marvel at the majestic ocean and the beautiful mid-70's Florida breeze, my cell phone rang. It was Brad. Their flight, which was some complicated Peoria-to-Kansas City-to-Moscow-to-Washington, D.C.-to-Daytona jaunt, was grounded by an ice storm. He promised an update. We got one: The Peoria airport was closed. But, have no fear: They would drive to Bloomington, Ill. and fly to Orlando and could we pick them up? Absolutely, even though the Melbourne-to-Daytona-to-Orlando-to-Daytona trip made almost as much sense as Peoria-to-Kansas City-to-Moscow-to-Washington, D.C.-to-Daytona expedition.

I kid Brad. I would gladly have driven to Peoria to pick him up (although, for the record, I NEVER offered this concept) because he is simply one of the most fun, most funny, most intelligent, most imaginative, most decent people I have ever been lucky enough to meet. To be considered one of his friends is truly an honor. That said, the man is a horrible traveler.

I suspect this is because for Brad, the entire journey IS the adventure whereas I believe in a very specific, efficient, redundant, overly coordinated travel regimen so that once I am where I need to be, the adventure can begin. We are different like that.

Of course, this brought to mind the time Brad was going to visit me in upstate New York when I worked at The Leader in Corning. Brad was going to New York City and he worked out this elaborate side trip to visit, flying into the Elmira-Corning Regional Airport. To my friends and co-workers there, I had built Brad up as this distinguished, visiting scholar/philosopher who would be greeted by a very tasteful society affair featuring cocktails and walking sticks.

His attempt to get to my apartment was similarily impacted by weather and he arrived about 12 hours late, and only after a three-hour cab ride. These were the days before cell phones and Instant Messages. So the party grew later and later and every now and then Brad would call and report something like "I'm in Schenectady. Where's that from you?" Eventually, everyone went home and presumed I had just made him up. A couple of people actually charged me for the walking sticks I had made them purchase. Low-brow cretins...

Because Peoria has a lousy, little airport, Brad and Kathy were not going to arrive until late Monday night. By then, we had checked out of the hotel, driven back to Melbourne, unpacked, had dinner and gone to bed.

But we're going to attempt to hook up again later in the week and, as always, it will be great to see them.

Meanwhile, my parents drove over from Ormond Beach and were great birthday substitutes (I also believe in a very specific, efficient, redundant, overly coordinated birthday guest regimen). I am just kidding, Mom! We drank at the Mai-Tai Bar, won a lot of points at the Mardi Gras (Dad hit a 1,000-coin jackpot on the slots and Mom mastered the quarter game) and ended up at Barnacles where Mary and I devoured all-we-could-eat king crab legs. Mmmmmm... Drawn butter...

Later, we received after-dinner drinks in the beautifully appointed hotel lounge. Walking sticks would have been appropriate. It was a truly a grand time.

More later,


Mark