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Who the hell is Kevin Finnerty?

I've been traveling this week.  Today, it's the latest in a series of nondescript rooms at the Sherriott-Hiltowne Plaza hotel in St. Baltimemphicago, where at any time I'm a Preferred Star-Award Ambassadorian, earning fractions of points that rack up in my monthly statements like a pinball machine... and for which I can redeem for valuable gifts and prizes.  At the current level of 1,500,000,000, I'm within reach of one of those plastic whizzers that sound like a siren when you blow into them.  [I love those.]  If I hold onto my points, I can get discount in-room non-dairy creamer next time I stay in Toledo.

Actually, I like to travel, so long as it's during the week.  Go to meeting; powernap and shower; go to dinner; find an interesting bar to have a nightcap or two.  Then fall asleep in an overstuffed bed with the TV on. 

Going to bed alone on the road can be very centering and self-affirming; just you and your thoughts.  The day has ended and you've ticked off the items on your checklist.

Tony.jpgWaking up in bed alone on the road can be very unsettling; just you and your thoughts.  The day has not yet begun, your'e a little fuzzy headed, and the checklist has regenerated itself.  You're not due downstairs til 8:30; it's 5:00 now; you can't sleep.  You left the curtains open so the sunlight would help roust you.  But it's as dark as night, and there's a beacon on the horizon.   

What should I be doing right now?  What're the other guys doing?  Sleeping?  No.  They're downstairs in the lobby... all of them... meeting together.  They could start the meeting if you'd only get your sorry ass out of bed and get in gear.  It's 5:03.  You've already fallen behind.  They all know where they're going; how long they're going to stay in their jobs; exactly when they're going to retire; their houses are already paid for; they've already saved for the college education of their toddlers; your oldest is already 10 and you've got $3.75 in your pocket.

finnertys beacon.jpgWho am I?  The wallet in the briefcase says my name is Kevin Finnerty.  Who the hell is Kevin Finnerty? 

Am I me, or am I him?  It's 5:05. 

What's with that beacon out there?  Is it calling me? 

I don't know.

[With apologies to Tony Soprano.]

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Reader Comments (3)

I habitually wake up early in hotel rooms. I can sleep for days in my own home, but even if I'm drinking, I still wake up way too early.in hotels. I hate that!
November 16, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterEDW
So you're a Sopranos fan? This one got to me, too. But should it have to take a coma to induce a little introspection?? I don't know who I've become sometimes, or how I got there, or whatthehell happened to my briefcase.
November 17, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterPaulie Walnuts
I'm so there. This is good.
November 17, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterSDB

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