Halloween in St. Louis, MI

Halloween Budweiser at the Crowne Plaza before bed

Happy Halloween, everyone! I wish I was taking the night out on the town having a good time with my friends. John, try to have a better time this year than we did last year, but keep the arts & crafts up if at all possible. I'm especially homesick on this day of my favorite holiday.

Karaoke and Crab Cakes

A final beer of the night at the Marriott in Richmond

Richmond, VA was a nice little town proud of its history. One of only three memorials to remember the mistake of slavery resides there. Another part of town offers a controversial mural of Robert E. Lee, once an image in full Confederate uniform, now re-designed the general is in plain clothes after a compromise with those who saw it as distasteful. I didn't get to see any pearls of culture concerning the history of this town. Instead, I had a pint at one bar and shared good conversation with a couple from England and their son, Ben, a writer and actor living in London who is now a myspace friend of mine. I relished in the company but had to end the fun to stop off at Penny Lane to sing karaoke and enjoy a couple more beers.

Now I'm in Durham, NC where I ordered room service for the first time ever: a glass of merlot and one crab cake for a grand total of $19. Was it worth it? I don't know, but the crab cake better be fuckin' good!

My first room service experience ever: Crab Cakes in Durham

Chicago hospitality and Roanoke, VA's airport

Me, Jimmy, Marla, and her daughter Liza who was around for the five minutes before I drove to O'Hare Airport

My short vacation in Chicago turned out to be a real kicker. Friday night I toasted to friends and family with my Uncle Jimmy and his girlfriend Marla in Lake Forest, a fancy suburb North of Chicago. We kept the wine flowing late into the evening and I even got a dance in with Marla. Saturday I got to have lunch with my old friend Jeannette in the Swedish district of Evanston at a place called M. Henry's. We also tried in vain to find me a new shirt, as my favorite one tragically shrunk in Jimmy's drier the night before.

On top of my Program Manager duties I'm also acting as security when drunken hotel patrons pee in the parking lot AND perform as DJ Sisler Mondays at Roanoke's Holiday Inn

Roanoke has the smallest airport I've ever seen, with about three gates and one security entrance that is sparsely populated with travelers and a bored airport security guard. Tonight I'm driving to Richmond, VA where I'll see Bobby Bare Jr., Lucero, and Whiskey & Co. rock the night away with music dubbed as "alt. country" and "punk country." I hope I don't drink too many PBR tall boys.

Karl Blau, Privacy, and Mt. Eerie at South Union Arts

You don't necessarily have to watch this, but play it while you're doing laundry or something quiet...Karl Blau's "That's How I got to Memphis"

It was good to commute around Downtown Chicago last night via the CTA. It's been a while, but the 'El' is like riding a bike! I took the Red Line to Jackson and walked to Union Street with some kids I bumped into going to the same show. The venue was an old church turned into a stage, much like "The Church" in Minneapolis only with stadium seating and scary crosses with naked people painted on them.

The nice hipster kids I met on the way to South Union Arts

Tomorrow night I'm off to my uncle Jimmy's! We'll see you again Sunday evening for another update from the front lines.

Guardian Angels and the Whitecaps of Lake Michigan

My guardian angel and temp for the day, Rose

This morning I got downstairs to the banquet room and started preparing for the biggest turnout of one of these events yet, teachers expected to exceed 80. I put my Townes Van Zandt on the house speakers and got to work, setting up the LCD screen, testing microphones, and moving tables and chairs. Then came the set-up of the registration table, where I met a nice old woman with a Boston accent saying "I'm here to help. Where do you need me?" I asked her who she was looking for and she told me she's with Kelly Services...a temp for BER. I told her I had no idea a temp was scheduled for the day but relished in the prospect, so I put Rose to work stuffing course packets with promotional material. When I told her my name, she said "Ah, Michael...the Archangel. You know my son's name is Michael. He's got three kids of his own and lives out in...." For the rest of the day, she wouldn't stop chatting. Rose had many stories of first hand accounts with her own guardian angel, who had helped her hitchhike to a job interview after a torrential snowstorm wouldn't allow her to drive. She talked about her one daughter with MS, her other daughter who was in cardiac arrest for 20 minutes. She talked about all her grandkids and their kids. She has been the greatest thing I've seen in Chicago this week.

Trying to take a picture of myself in a torrential windstorm on the beaches of Lake Michigan

Instead of heading to the next suburb of Chicago in Oak Lawn, I was dropped off downtown by my instructor and am sitting at a bar called Butch McGuire's on Division Street. From here I'll train, and then bus, to what is a trendy part of town (and also Chicago's meat packing district I've been told by the locals) to see Karl Blau and Mt. Eerie perform at the South Union Arts Center. Tomorrow's show would be better, but I'll be in Champaign, IL and can't make it. From the show, I'll bus and then train and then bus again to the Hilton in Oak Lawn, where I'll get to sleep around 1am, wake up once again at 5:30, and have another 80-100 grouchy teachers waiting to be registered for another seminar. The life of Mike moves on!

Chicago

Getting my picture taken by a nice stranger at the Old Chicago in the Holiday Inn in Chicago

Just got off the phone with my sister Betsy, who's having a hell of a time in Minneapolis writing for the Minnesota Daily, her beat being stories about comic book geeks and fencing clubs. Right now I'm at the Holiday Inn in Elk Grove, a suburb of Chicago, with its very own Old Chicago built right inside. It was quite the drive from Grand Rapids - around four hours of 25 cent tolls, eighties music and a delicious dinner to avoid rush-hour at "Greek Islands" in Downtown Chicago where myself and the instructor I'm supporting dined on a strange paste of salmon eggs and garlic, lamb shank, and baklava for desert.

Waiting on my dinner date with Senator Larry Craig in the hotel lounge's bathroom...

Tomorrow is my biggest seminar yet...around eighty grouchy teachers pre-registered. Mornings at 6am are my favorite part of the day: I set up the audio before anything else, crank up the house sound, and listen to whatever I want. This morning it was John Lennon and Gram Parsons. Tomorrow morning I think I'll throw a little Townes Van Zandt and into the mix.

I Own Grand Rapids, MI

I am the "Guest of the Day" at Grand Rapid's Radisson Inn

The first thing the hotel staff told me as I checked into my hotel after the drive from Detroit to Grand Rapids is that I was chosen as their official "Guest of the Day." I asked them, "So what does that mean, a free cup of soup?" They told me it means much more than that: an upgrade to a suite (which is a regular room with a couch instead of a chair) and a free meal of my choice. I sauntered into the hotel bar for a little apertif: a whiskey-soda..."easy on the soda," and kicked back my dogs in the corner booth relishing on my throne. I browsed the menu and decided on their most expensive entree: the Surf & Turf, described in the menu as "brown sugar cured beef tenderloin filet accompanied by a succulent lobster tail with clarified butter, fresh vegetables, and mashed potatoes," going for $25.95.


I'm a bit wobbly from my meal and the rush from treating myself to a couple phallic glasses of beer and my apertif. It's time for bed. Oh! The Radisson has patented sleep number technology in their beds...I wonder what number I am? It's gonna be great experimenting with that tonight...fuck I'm lonely!

Cheeseburger in Paradise? No! Motor City!

Playing Time Crisis 3 at the Best Western's video Arcade

I arrived in Detroit around 3:30pm after a rushed drive to the airport to find Hertz Car Rental had a nice Hyundai reserved for me, trunk open, keys in the ignition:

I AM IMPORTANT

The first thing I did at the Best Western was head for the bar. I hadn't eaten all day and needed my cheeseburger and a bloody mary. It was there that I met Taras P. Nykoriak, a nice young man who asked me if I happened to be from Warren, Michigan. "A year ago when I was eighteen and I bought my first house, the realtor said I was the youngest person they ever signed a deal with." Now, at nineteen, Taras is trying to win over the people of Warren in the race for mayor this November. "I just need to convince them I'm not crazy." We exchanged cards, shook hands, and I finished my bloody mary. I wish him the best of luck this November and would write him in if I could. Tomorrow, on to Grand Rapids!

Taras P. Nykoriak - Write-in Candidate for Mayor of Warren, Michigan

A Peaceful Moment in Arizona

Kicking back my dogs at the hotel pool...I wish it was swimming weather

Mesa, Arizona. Or, another Holiday Inn. At this one I have a suite complete with two televisions and a living room furnished with a couch and the desk I'm now writing at. I'm getting in deep with work, waking up each morning looking very professional and responsible and smiling and nodding and making sure everyone's happy. I get to sneak a quiet moment of indulgence every now and again as well:

Special thanks to Ron the Hotel Bartender for taking this picture of me "having a good time"

Tomorrow evening I go home to Seattle for a weekend jam packed with catching up. It feels like I've been gone a month. It'll be good to gain ground back in Seattle. Until then, the show must go on!

What time is it? What day is it? Where am I? Bagels!

A Mongolian Chicken lunch in my hotel room while
watching a Neil Young concert on T.V.

Am I in Sacramento? No, I was in Elk Grove, a suburb of Sacramento. What is it, Thursday? No, Wednesday and I'm in Union City, a suburb of Oakland, CA. This morning I woke up at 5:30 a nervous wreck for my first day as a full-fledged program manager with nobody keeping tabs on my performance.

Special thanks to Andrea Koval for being there the first couple hours this morning to help register math teachers. She trained with me my first two days, but left at 10am, left me to the dogs flailing in paperwork and math teachers.


Considering my "first day jitters," everything closed with a bang and I even got a deal on the banquet room from the fabulous staff at the Holiday Inn Express in Elk Grove. Around 3pm myself and the instructor hit the road headed southwest through the beautiful hills of Northern California. We arrived around 5pm and hit the cocktail lounge for a couple drinks, some potato skins, and a BLT. She turned in soon after and I called a few friends including my Uncle Jimmy, who I'll be staying with in Chicago a week from Friday, and my brother Andy. The pool is nice but it's too cold to go swimming.

Elk Grove's just like the Burnsville Center!

Special thanks to the nice Japanese man who took this picture
of me posing in front of the bronze statue of George Bush Sr. at Houston's airport

Sacramento? Sitting at the Holiday Inn Express in Elk Grove, CA surrounded by an Old Navy, T.J. Maxx, and the best one yet: a Bed, Bath & Beyond! Tomorrow will be my first day working alone after a week-and-a-half of being weaned off the supervision and guidance of my lovely manager Megan and other team-members. I'm excited to finally be independent from everything but hope I don't shit my pants when I screw up. Good night.

Houston has many lanes on its freeways....

The nicest bed I've ever jumped on

Houston might be nicer if it was daytime and the skies were blue, but all I've seen are thunderstorms and darkness. I get the impression that Texas is one giant suburb. Our plane was delayed from New Orleans because landing conditions at George Bush's airport were poor, so we spent two hours in Louis Armstrong Airport waiting around and then another hour-and-a-half on the plane just sitting on the runway. I passed in and out of sleep the whole flight, which ended up being three hours instead of 45 minutes and I'm ready for a nice, long nap. I've learned never to stay out drinking on Bourbon Street past midnight while on the job.

New Orleans: More than your average titty

Dance party with fellow Program Managers

The first thing I noticed about New Orleans is the humidity - it's like a Minnesota Summer night, thick with heat and moisture that makes a person need a cold beer and loud music to accompany his/her beads of sweat and looming threat of becoming a victim of fatigue from the humidity, even in mid-October. I thought flashing for beads was only a Mardi Gras thing, but on a Sunday night here it was not overlooked by drunken balcony partiers and creepy onlookers looking to catch a glimpse of some "titty." Me and my crew made our way through this mess, stopping momentarily as star-struck sightseers looking to catch some titty glimpses for ourselves. The prevalence of flashing titty does, however, steal attention away from the other amenities this city has to offer, and there were a few stops me and my five female companions stopped at to enjoy the music this city is traditionally famous for.

Mural of Louis Armstrong at the Maison Bourbon Jazz Club

It's a shame the musical talent here is overlooked by the barters of titty for beads, but the mood here calls for an indulgence of voyeurism or the patronage of such an act. Still, I got to dance with five hot babes and there were lots of jealous men that watched me cut a rug, showing off such dance moves as the grapevine, the ball change, and the feather step. While I'm completely full of shit, it's now 12:30am and I need to get up tomorrow for a day of actual work. In the meantime, I'm enjoying my luxury suite here at the Hilton Garden Inn and sipping on a Diet Coke before bedtime.

Tomorrow I plan on setting up another site where more pics of me and my friends can be seen. Until then, good night and don't take any beads from those who make you feel un-sexy.

Luggage and thoughts on the next eight months

Jack, myself, and my brother Andy

My bags are finally packed. It's not easy to figure out how to travel for six days in a row when you're stuffing into a 20" suitcase "business professional" clothes and what you might be wearing out on the town in strange new cities you've never been to: New Orleans, LA; Houston, TX; Sacramento, CA; Oakland, CA; Phoenix, AZ. In places like Houston I should like to wear cowboy boots and pearl-snap button-ups; in Phoenix I'd want to look retired in a swimsuit and a Hawaiian shirt.

The past week I've shopped around for luggage, looking for a sturdy suitcase and a decent carry-on bag that could hold all the paperwork necessary for my job, my laptop, and a day's worth of clothes in case my luggage gets lost. Today Jack and I went to Fred Meyer looking for some quality luggage for about half-an-hour until we decided we were hungry and got burgers and beers instead. This week I'll be traveling with Jack's suitcase and my laptop bag that carried me through college, along with my "tech-kit," a fifty-pound trunk that holds the contents of my audio-visual responsibilities. I've decided I hate luggage and think I might just wear the same suit on the plane, on the job, and at the bar.

I wonder what stories this blog will have to offer by May, when I'm getting home from my last flight as a Program Manager and back to a regular work week. Some days I'll be flying across the country, other days I'll be driving two or three hours to the next city. Sometimes I might have to book a train ride if flights are canceled, and I may even get to ride a limo here and there if there's no other option. In any case, leisure time will be scarce and sacred and without friends or family. Still, I look forward to my time alone "on the road" and know the different perspective will allow me time to figure out what I miss and what I don't: i.e., I'll be that much closer to "finding myself" in a world where it's easy to get lost in routine and everyday comforts like a change of clothes or a familiar high-five.

This is the first and most difficult entry for me to write because I don't know what to expect once I'm gone but for now it's Saturday night so I'm going to see the Tea Cozies at the Blue Moon and celebrate my introduction to becoming a nickel-plated wayfarer...