
RAN SCREAMING FROM THE METROPOLIS
Okay, drove away from the city formerly known as New York
First stop, Charlotte, North Carolina.
Drove 665 miles in a day. Stopped every two to three hours to give Astro and Mister Moose a break.
Me too.
Arrived at a Quality Inn, just north of downtown at 9pm. If marketing ever became an honest profession, the motel would the Mediocre Inn at best. Realize that’s a cheap joke, but since I am VERY NOT fussy, it’s not a joke. It’s true.
A bonus for this stopover is a visit with a work colleague from California, Mike Murphy, a producer non-pareil. Was lucky to work with him several times during my illustrious career on the West Coast.
Mike, diligent and pragmatic person he is, researched several places in which to retire. The smallish city of Charlotte won the Murphy lottery. I called it The Irish Sweepstakes.
After crashing for a ten hour sleep, packed the dogs back into the car, and drove off to meet “Murph” at a downtown Charlotte eatery. He was his unflappable, smiling, upbeat self. The man has a gift, the gift of optimism.
If there ever was a social event to launch me into the openness of Florida, it was that lunch with Mike Murphy. We had an enlightening and erudite conversation. Excerpt as follows:
“How is New York?”
“It sucks.”
“Thought so.”
Mike Murphy is the friend you see once in a while and you never want the get together to end. It must, as do all things, but he’s a tough one to see in the rear view mirror.
Though I don’t drink beer, I raise a pint to Mike Murphy.
One of the good guys.
And the restaurant in Charlotte?
Mask Optional.
Are you listening or watching, Cretins from Blue States?
Mask Optional.
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