- Returning to Tampa--scene of the GOP convention which I attended--will surely bring back some memories, and will surely dredge up the bad taste still in my mouth from the election. Not that the past few days doesn't fill that bill well enough already.
- I am a devotee of airport massages, even though clearly, the varsity of massage therapists do not practice there. I usually grab a 20 minute rubdown, and here at BWI, the chances are the therapist is very young. Today's looked like he lived a serious thug-life, but he did a fine job and earned a nice tip. This is one of the many benefits of always arriving two hours early at the airport. Which today means three hours.
- Speaking of tips...along with all kinds of diet/exercise/behavioral goals for 2013, I have decided to finally get a handle on where my money goes. I seem to make enough of it, and while I know where the big muscle movements send it, I have a feeling that my breezy acceptance of valet parking, lunches out, and the random purchase of gifts actually adds up.
- The airport is not at all crowded, and there were a ton of parking places in the garage. In fact, there were several hundred open on each level--yet creature of habit that I am, I drove up five levels to park my car on the familiar 6th level. Some would call that anal.
- I cannot begin to tell you how mad Obama bumper stickers still make me. Saw a few on the drive up here. Uuuuurrrrrggggghhhhhh.
Ok, that's enough for now.