"No, sir, you're in Concourse A, you need Concourse ZZZ-36"

"... and on the sixth day, Ghawd spake to his brethren and sistren and told them of glad tidings, of great riches to be bestowed upon them in the form of the return of their most humble servant, their purveyor of platitudes, Bubba the Elder. And it was semi-good... not scintillating, particularly, but coming uncomfortably close to good, nevertheless." The Book of Unconscionable Insobriety, Chapter Squod, Verse Chittlin'.

Rumors of my demise are arguably false in their origins, at least insofar as carbon-based life functions are concerned. A metaphysical examination of the same presumption might yield a different conclusion, but for the purposes of this missal, we'll assume the former...

I am, as they say, back... and while this will undoubtedly elicit a resounding chorus from the Yawn Patrol, it is worth noting that it isn't exactly pleasant inside my cranium either, so the price you pay in reading this can't be more than a fraction of the toll exacted upon moi.

What's new wit' you? I'll be around to see each of you very soon (in an order to be determined by the casting of lots with Bubba's peeps at a time to be determined by another process too difficult to describe in this forum). My trial-by-Philadelphia is completed, and I survived, even if a sadder-but-arguably-wiser man (although the jury is still out on that premise as well). Suffice to say that I learned a few things that I'd like to share with you:

1) It should be against the law for anyone residing between the Rockies and the Alleghenies to ever venture east of that concisely-defined region and step on any soil without first crossing the Atlantic Ocean.

2) Every road on the Eastern seaboard of this country was designed by someone who hated humankind and wished us all dead as soon as humanly possible.

3) It is illegal, in the city of Philadelphia, to work in a restaurant if you're conversant in English.

4) Judging from masses present in the lavish 'Continental breakfast' court in the Cherry Hill Days Inn, intercollegiate female rowing teams are the most dominant sub-group of humans in existence. Like a hoard of locusts they attacked the supply of dry cereal, muffins, bananas, apples and two types of bread available in the self-serve format, leaving little but a few packets of refined sugar and a day-old urn of stale coffee. And I was grateful for the possibility of caffein-accumulation, even if I did have to hoist the urn onto my shoulders and press the button releasing the ebony liquid directly down my throat, pausing every few seconds to catch my breath. Sure, my vocal chords were a bit seared, but it was a better solution than conducting a skit consisting of much pointing at a menu for Juan at the local purveyor of comestibles since he couldn't understand a single word I said.

5) Leaving my room each morning, I would embark on the two-hour voyage to the site of our seminar, the high-rise luxury hotel (where we couldn't get reservations even with an attempted bribe of the concierge) that sat directly across the 'street' from our location. I use the term 'street' advisedly, for while it is composed of a material that looks very much like asphalt, that is where all similarities end. First, in this area it is not called a 'street', it is called a 'pike', a term that immediately confuses someone of my experience, bringing to mind a fish rather than a travelway. Unfortunately, whoever designed these 'pikes', failed to realize that a motor vehicle is capable of turning left and that traffic signals can be designed to accommodate this innovation. Imagine that... Therefore, this genius put a concrete bunker down the middle and forces every traveler to drive at least seventeen miles in the opposing direction before finally running into the 'roundabout' capable of returning us to the correct direction of travel another seventeen miles to a position roughly two hundred yards from our original starting point, but on the opposite side of the 'pike'. I now understand why every driver there is insane.

However, it wasn't all bad. The airplane refused to crash despite the pilots' most strident attempts, and I met some very nice people while wedged into a 'seat' approximately one-half the size necessary to accommodate the girth of a full-grown male human being. That's enough... I could go on, but my brain is starting to simmer. My biggest disappointment was in having to cancel a dinner I'd scheduled with a very dear email partner who, along with her family, I'd hoped to meet. Unfortunately, the real world intervened and I was forced to cancel. *sigh* Sorry, Nan...

Thank you all for hanging in there with me, and tomorrow I'll try to provide you with something worthy of your time and consumption.

Peace...

Bubba