Saturday, March 11, 2017

Batter up in Old Town Scottsdale

I did not know that Spring Training was a thing. I mean I have always understood that baseball teams go to warm places and practice before the season begins. It is not like I thought that they just all met up on opening day, chose positions and hoped for the best. I just was unaware that it was something that people, other than those contractually obligated to be there, would care about.  I certainly never imagined that it was such a thing that it would fill up all the hotels in the greater Phoenix area.  But apparently it is as I just found out when my usual hotel in Tempe, along with all its neighbors, was booked up and I was relocated to an office park somewhere on the north side of the city.

Someone mentioned that our new location was close to Old Town Scottsdale. I looked it up, liked what I saw and decided that this was how I would spend my free day in Phoenix. Then I got to the Middle of Nowhere Motel 8, opened up Google Maps and discovered that I was nowhere close to Old, New or even Middle-aged Scottsdale.  We weren't close to downtown Phoenix either. I feel like this location may have been the result of a practical joke that got out of hand. This was maddening. How many fricking people had come to watch men not compete at a sport that on its best day is boring af and why had they taken all the good hotel rooms?

Friday, March 10, 2017

Getting artsy in Detroit

I won't lie. I was not exactly thrilled to have a recent day off in Detroit. It's cold, it's not particularly pretty and my fuzzy recollection of 8 Mile informs me that it's a dangerous place, especially if you are a white man of limited talent trying to become a rapper. Also, did I mention it was a bitter 20-ish degree cold?

Yet, this was my reality last Friday. I could either risk freezing and/or getting shiv'ed for referring to myself as Slim Berti or I could sit in a hotel room all day. We all know which one I chose.

I rented a car, called a friend and told him I had a great day planned for us. That may have been a slight exaggeration but I'm pretty sure that I did reveal- in a mumble and under my breath- that we were going to the hood. That is probably something that he'd want to know. But I had a good reason, nay a great reason, to visit this particular economically depressed neighborhood. I wanted to see Tyree Guyton's work before it was all reduced to ashes.