JUNKET BONDING



I'm writing this in a hotel room in Houston, a city that is a diverse, cosmopolitan mecca of commerce, and also a sprawling, garish, Southern white-trash, Christian Coalition hick town at the same time. And it seems very comfortable in its own peculiar skin. I'm here for a training class, which I intend to mentally process the same way I do reruns of "Wings", which is to say, with extremely detached and very, very slight amusement. So, basically, it's a junket, a chance to escape the mundanity of my normal work week for another, slightly different mundanity in another city.



So far, it's been fun. I was greeted by a wake-up cockroach in my bathtub, which is always a nice touch. The high-speed Internet connection is working, which it should considering you could pay about a hundred migrant workers to hand carry notes back and forth to their destinations for the amount of money they are charging.



I should mention that I once lived in the suburbs of Houston for six years, so this is also a homecoming of sorts. It should give me a chance to connect with some old friends and see the old places, all of which I will probably forego to look at porn on the Spectravision.



More later as my adventure unfolds. Now, where's that remote?