Next floor Housewares!

For the first twenty years of my business career, I probably took a total of 10 out of town overnight trips. Since my career change, from banking to agriculture three years ago, I probably take 10 a year. So many cities, airports and hotels you truly begin to feel numb. Once upon a time I could tell you details about every flight I have ever deplaned - down to the aircraft. Now I couldn't even tell you the cities I have seen. The smell of Cinnabons has become a stench in my nostrils! (Did I mention I was reading through the Bible in a year?)

Travel is not an option. My job requires jaunts - whether to West Lafayette to attend Purdue Management School or Egypt to drink a cold beer with T. Krenek. That would be Indiana and Texas - not France and, well Egypt!

So I decided that while I must travel, I don't have to always be Clarence.

On a recent trip to St. Louis, Clarence attended the meetings - but Jack came along as well.

*** We are going to pause here for a little clarity and a reality check. First, I am not crazy, well at least not to the point of needing medication or therapy. Second, this is not an attempt to escape from being a devoted husband and father. ***

Oh, you haven't met Jack? Let's see, Jack sells aircraft engines for a large company based in Europe. Jack is confident, secure and enjoys banter. If Jack were to be cast for a movie - he would be played by Vince Vaughn. Think of Vince in Swingers. Jack is so money he doesn't even know it.

Jack lands in St. Louis and doesn't know a soul. Jack walks through the airport wearing black leather shoes, black pants, black belt, black shirt and a dark jacket. Clarence would wear khaki pants. For effect, Jack wears dark sunglasses - INDOORS! Jack doesn't care - the fine people of St.Louis don't know him and he doesn't know them.

Jack takes a cab to the Hilton striking up a conversation with Boris the cab driver. Jack understands about every third word from Boris. It's possible that Boris has a cousin that married a fiber bearing goat OR his cousin just purchased a fiberglass boat. His accent was thick, probably Eastern Europe - surely a country visited by Jack.

Jack had lunch at the Hilton next to Busch Stadium and chatted with his delightful server Eva. Eva was your typical aunt delivered straight from central casting. Eva asked "Anything I can do for you?" Eva probably wasn't even aware of what she said, having delivered the line a hundred times previous. It was "as matter of fact" as people say "good morning." More of a comment than an actual question. Jack replied, "Can you sing me a good show tune?" Eva relaxed, she became engaged and yes - she even sang a few bars! Eva became a wealth of information about Missouri - where to eat, where to visit. Jack was becoming fun, liberating. More JACK, less CLARENCE!

*** Here we pause again as Clarence attends another session of the meeting. "Growers want an advocate in the seed industry so they have a voice when dealing with ....." Why isn't Jack participating in these meetings! ***

Back to Jack!

Jack's room was on the 17th floor of the West Tower - with a great view of the Arch. The West Tower may have the SSSLLLOOWWWWEEESSTT elevators west of the Mississippi. As Jack boards the elevator he is surrounded by 5 to 6 women in their late 40's to early 50's. As the elevator ascends, it stops at seemingly every floor. About the 7th floor, Jack yells out, "Next floor Housewares!" You would have thought Johnny Carson just finished his monologue. Jack was a star! As the elevator continued to climb, one lady yells out, "Tell me when we get to lingerie!" Jack is now worried. Jack is taking the stairs!

Why isn't Clarence more like Jack? Jack doesn't judge strangers - he talks to them. Jack strikes up conversations with the greeter at the ballpark. Jack eats BBQ on his nachos. Jack doesn't have self-doubt. Jack got Eva to sing and ladies on an elevator to laugh.

Clarence likes Jack. JACK IS GREAT!

I know Jack is inside me - everyday, all the time. Why does he hide? Or why does Clarence hide him?

No Regrets.