Below The Fold

Welcome back to Philly.

I’ve been here on business (”building strategic relationships and increasing operating synergies”) since Monday and I leave tomorrow.

The lead story this morning was about a tractor trailer jack-knifed on a bridge, preventing access in or out of New Jersey. There’s something poetically ironic about that, but I can’t quite put my finger on exactly what it is.

 Last night, I had dinner at Alma De Cuba with my “team members.” It was delicious, and it gave me something positive to associate with Philly–there’s some good food to be had here.

I spent a couple hours wandering around South Street last night (Anne probably didn’t get my email until it was too late to connect). I was here once before, but there are more shops this time, more bars. It was raining, though, and I didn’t have an umbrella. Although, several people offered to sell me one, and one called me a “sopping wet asshole” when I politely declined purchasing his $30 umbrella.

Welcome back to Philly.

Post Script– This morning, I ate breakfast a few feet away from Scott Hamilton. I’ve spent too much time since wondering if my recognizing him casts aspersions on my sexual orientation. I hope not.