We flew into Harrisburg via Cincinnati and then drove about 30 miles to Lancaster. As we descended I felt a tingling in my skin. I did not realize it but we had passed directly over Three Mile Island! I hoped that the residual radiation combined with being bitten by an insect would give me super powers (think Spiderman) - but alas twas not to be.
However, I did take a cue from good ol' Dr. Teller. As Don Delillo recounts in the novel Underworld, allegedly Dr. Teller (architect of the world's first atomic explosion) feared the effects of the blast even from his viewing site 20 miles away he felt it prudent to apply suntan lotion to his face and hands. Dunno if it really works, but I'll confess to a little bit of temptation to have a TSA approved container of Coppertone in my carry on.
As an example of cultural differences, as we arrived in Harrisburg area there were a few vehicles on display in the baggage claim area. I found that somewhat unusual and wondered why an AIRPORT would promote CAR advertising. Well, one of them was a nice Lexus but the other - wow, it was a tractor. And one heck of a tractor. Painted traditional John Deere green, but it looked oddly attractive - visualize a kross (ha ha ha) between a workhorse Kubota and the racy lines of a Kaliber and you'll never look at the north forty (or is it south forty?) in the same way again.
I was very careful with my pro-nunc-iation in Lancaster. You see, I was born in Lancaster, but not Pennsylvania. My emergence into the world took place in Lancaster, California. Now, as every good Californian knows Lancaster is pronounced "lan-caster", like "plan-castor". However in Pennsylvania it is pronounced "lan-custer". I did not correct the Pennsylvanians who continually pronounced it the wrong way.
I had a cold, and it manifested itself by turning my left eye bright red. I felt OK, but greeting the client I felt like cyclops. I thought it would be kinda cool to wear an eyepatch, but then I would have started to talk like a pirate:
Arrh, matey - so ye be buyin' an online banking solution? Well let's talk about yer implementation over a mug o' rum. We'll make them other vendors walk a little plank, won't we? Shiver me timbers if I don't show you why we be bee-in the best. Yo ho ho and all that.Well, the meetings went OK even though I was a bit self conscious. During one session my boss asked to borrow the rental car keys, under the pretext that she had left her power cord in the hotel room. She swears that she really did forget it, but let it also be memorialized in this post that she also took advantage of the opportunity to find a hard rock station, crank up the radio, turn heater fan to full, put my seat all the way back, and turn on the windshield wipers to "warp speed". Yes, I was caught by surprise.
One evening after work my colleague John and I ventured out for dinner. I say 'venture' because I'm kind of a fuddy duddy when I travel, usually staying close to the hotel. But John said something like "let's just drive around until we find something". Wow, I felt the tingling sensation of the recklessness of youth filling my mind with endless possibilities like windblown tumbleweeds drifting through the vast Mojave desert of my youth. We'll just drive! Yeah, we got all night in a rental car in a strange town (strange as in foreign, not in people. And not foreign as in foreigners but foreign like unusual. Not that the town was unusual...I give up).
And drive we did. We just motored around, got on the pike (on the west coast we have highways, back east they call them 'pikes') and headed north. Or south or it might have been west, perhaps east. But we were driving! In a rental car! In a strange, foreign, unusual town!
As we wandered, a moment of creepy eeriness descended like fog covering the grounds of the haunted mansion. We had driven in a big circle and right back to the client's office! Wow. OK, we drove around some more and found this awesome restaurant called Hayden Zugs. From mass media marketing musings we obtain these observations:
Haydn Zug’s, located in Historic Lancaster County Pennsylvania, offers fine dining in a colonial atmosphere. A member of the prestigious Dirona Association of fine dining establishments, Haydn Zug’s has been offering fine dining since 1969. Today, the restaurant boasts an award-winning wine cellar that has been memorialized in Wine Spectator magazine.I don't really care about that. What I care about is the incredible steak, indescribable beer, intoxicating bread, and the cutest little itty bitty containers you have ever seen. It was one of those places where they take your coat and give you a little ticket to claim it. The Taco Bells I have frequented do not have that service, although some of them do have people that will take your coat if you are not looking. If you were to go to Lancaster you MUST eat there.
The Trip Home
John and I parted ways at the Harrisburg airport, with me heading to Cincinatti for my connecting flight to PDX and he going through D.C. On the plane was a small group of what I perceived to be soldiers. They seemed so young, and each of them carried a manila envelope with what might have been their orders. They did not appear to be seasoned travelers and somewhat unsure of themselves. I couldn't help wonder if they were on their way to Iraq. I have no idea if they were even in the service but I said a prayer for their safe passage through the war if they were. I dozed off but then woke up during our descent into Cincinatti and began to converse with the guy in the seat next to me. Turns out he was a Commander and General of a Marine Corps Division. Wow! Although our time was limited we hit it off and he gave me his address and contact info in Atlanta. Hope to see you someday again!
At last I began the long flight home from Cincinatti. I hate flying west. Not just because of bucking the headwinds from the jetstream, but also watching...the...sun...set....forever. Now, I like seeing a sunset as much as the next guy. But when you are chasing the sun it drags on and on and on... Finally, as the sun sank into the horizon the waning rays caught the wing and it shimmered like a sumari sword severing the currents of air as we passed through daylight into twilight. Little towns emerged far below as their little lights became visible. Made me think of that song by - I think - St. Etienne (or maybe Ivy) with the lyrics "stars above us, cars below us". Ah, a poetic moment.
And there you have it - Dave visits Pennsylvania.
