A Homer Goes East

My plane was canceled. Then delayed. Then un-delayed. They said it was a “snow event in Houston.” Snow Event? No. A snow event is what they call Winter Formal in LA. A snow event is a ski trip. In our world of PC this and that, I was looking for some straight talk (not you Sarah). It’s a storm. StormStormStorm.

Central Park

Upon arrival, New York’s moniker, The City That Never Sleeps, was immediately validated. People were in the street, bars, and pizza joints. Also, question: is “Empire State of Mind” streaming though little speakers in every manhole in New York? I think so. Jay-Z gets a cut.

In New York I saw six comedians, one play, two ‘Cats games, a big park, and one celebrity. In Boston I saw 17 championship banners, zero ‘Cats games, Paul Revere’s house, Sam Adams’ grave, and stood alone in storied Fenway Park as the security guard proclaimed, "I didn't see nothing!" In DC I relaxed. Went ice-skating and drank more often than I should have. Celebrated Hanukkah and caught a movie. Slept in. Who can blame a Homer when the weather report says, “Feels like 25”? And then it was over. Quicker than it began. No return flights were delayed.

Boston

Ultimately, I loved my trip. It was fun and relaxing and inspiring and busy. I loved the people I stayed with and admire the lives they lead. They’re some of my favorites. But $2 PBR is not a deal and I’ll never get used to “Feels like 25.” This Homer still loves home. It’s where my heart is.

My travels were brief and for that I eagerly anticipate a return. Thank you to those who tolerated, housed, directed, and entertained me. You’re the best.

(Note: These are my own photos. Shyeah!)