Dear second day of my trip:

Dear hotel check-out guy:

Thanks for complimenting my oh-so-professional looking briefcase. Now you know that it is actually my wife’s, and so does my meeting organizer (that guy I need to impress), since he was sitting right behind me when I told you. Quite a way to make an impression...

Dear waitress at the Nook:

Yes, I was talking to myself throughout breakfast. Well, actually I was talking to an invisible group of people, all who would be real audience members about three hours later. Thanks for filling my coffee without a smirk. And if you are interested in my P4P/POD project, let me know, and I’ll hook you up.

Dear meeting participants:

Truly, it was great. Thanks for the nods of agreement, laughter, and looks of “aha” at the correct moments. Totally worth travelling for, being nervous about, and spending way too much personal time on. It was nice to meet you all, and I sincerely hope that our ideas/presentation leads to a more realized, cross-departmental, cross-platform partnership, not only with each other but with “them”.

Dear newly-opened curry restaurant:

Great idea, great food, great location.

Dear August, Sophia, and Aurora:

Thanks for being my stand-in kids for an hour or so. Double thanks to 11-month-old August, who finally let me hold him. You and Lily should totally meet. I think you would have lots to talk about: “dra-gon”, “bir-die”, “dra-gon” “quack, quack.” Y’all would totally hit it off. Aurora: you are a princess. Sophia, I actually think black olives are yucky, too; I just forgot to tell your dad.

Dear Brad Paisley:

Thank you for recording “Whisky Lullaby.” It is 10:30 at night, I am somewhere in between Charlotte and Nashville, I have only slept 3 hours in the last two days, and, for some sappy reason, I am very happy that this song decided to shuffle itself on deck.

Dear Rob Zombie:

You and Brad should totally go on tour. Under normal circumstances, I would not have paired the mellow-country-reclination with the (un)dead-assaultive-aggrerock, but tonight it totally works.

Dear Matt:

Look: you’re tired, your brain is on a downward spike, and you were about to suggest that Gordon Lightfoot join the "Paisley Zombie" tour (imagine the cool blacklight posters!). Just sit back, let Gordon take you on the final voyage of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and leave these poor readers alone. Looks like the Dead are on deck next; it might be a good night, afterall…

shanti,

mjh