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December 20, 2006
Bill Marriott likes me
The last time I spent Monday through Friday in New York City was the first week I was at the firm: July 17 to 21. And the next time might be in January, if the stars align. Below is an analysis of where I’ve spent the last 148 nights since I started traveling:
click to enlarge
As much as New Yorkers obsess about real estate and getting the exact right apartment for less than half one’s monthly salary, it’s not uncommon that a Marriott becomes like a second home. I’ve spent 1 of every 3 nights for the last 5 months at a Marriott. Then there are the folks, Hilton and a few other hotels, Tiffany’s boat, Jens’s couch, and 747 airplanes. Interestingly, these are roughly in descending order of comfort, though Jens’s couch was pretty comfy by couch-dweller standards.
I managed to bank 28,495 frequent flier miles last month, enough for a domestic round-trip, plus 8920 Marriott points. A free flight is, of course, the last thing on my mind right now.
Tiffany returned to New York last weekend bearing more luggage than her body weight. It was more than would fit in the trunk of a New York cab, but we found that Town Cars have surprisingly big trunks. No wonder the Town Car is probably the second-most-popular car on the streets of Manhattan (after the Chevy Caprice cab).
It was quite an experience for her being on the ship for 6 months. The first thing she wanted upon return was some fried chicken, of which there is no shortage here in Harlem. She had a great time aboard the ship—it was a bit of growing up and living away from home for the first time and a bit like going off to college. Having hit something like 40 ports of call throughout Europe, in Africa (Cape Verde), and in South America (Brazil), she clearly had a marvelous summer of shopping in Tallinn, helicopter-riding over the French Riviera, parasailing in Rhodes, and laying out on beaches throughout Europe. The tenor and bass in her crew are already off on their next contact on a sister ship, which I think is absolutely crazy.
Tiffany has been in New York for four days since returning, which has allowed us enough time to hit the second floor of Tiffany & Company (one of my least favorite places) and our old favorites like the Penn Club and Bello Sguardo, but we still haven’t been below 34th St and thus haven’t stocked up at Magnolia yet. (Isn’t it amazing that one can keep busy in New York for four days and yet never venture into the southern 80-some-odd streets of the city?)
Meanwhile, in all the traveling, I’ve learned that pomegranates are a wonderful way to call attention to yourself at airport security screening. The fruit is perfectly legal, though I suppose it could generate more than 3 oz of liquid. I don’t know why it causes such consternation; perhaps it’s because the fruit is shaped like a bomb, with lots of little pieces inside, a round shape, and a fuse atop. But just take it from me next pomegranate season (which runs late Oct through early December) and leave the fruits at home.
Last night was particularly fun, as we joined a Handel Messiah Sing-In at Lincoln Center. I didn’t realize it when I bought the tix, but the Messiah is about 2 hours long and is ridiculously hard to perform. Even Tiffany, a professional singer, occasionally had trouble sight-reading it; fortunately we were in the back where hopefully nobody could hear me. We did manage not to sing the last Hallelujah too soon, thereby not interrupting the silent echo throughout the hall in the penultimate bar.
Tomorrow I fly to Indiana, so it’s time to go pack. Such is the story of my life.
Posted by adrianjo at December 20, 2006 09:53 PM