The waiting

Bad-ass thunderstorms up in NJ/NY, so my flight back home is delayed. We’re waiting for the plane to come in from there, dump people, refuel, and get us home. It’s a little Embraer 145, one of those 50-seaters, so I’m not looking forward to the bumpy flight home. Which will land sometime way after midnight, instead of our scheduled 10pm.

Also, I realized during lunch today that I actually hadn’t set foot outside of Cracker Biodome in the 48 hours since I’d checked in on Monday. It was another 3 hours before I stepped outside, to get in a cab to the airport. So, not much Nashville-ing for me.

On the plus side, the gift area had a copy of that Sam Cooke biography I want, so I just picked that up. And the wireless hookup is $6.95 for 24 hours, so that ain’t bad.

Much gnashing of teeth, rending of flesh, etc.

Before I left for Nashville yesterday morning, I said to myself, “Don’t bring the camera. You’re not going out anywhere in the evening after the conference, and it’d just be one more thing to account for.”

Now it’s obvious that I was a jet-lagged wreck. How could I have failed to bring the one device that would provide irrefutable evidence that this resort/hotel/conference center is in fact Cracker Disney? Why hadn’t I looked at the site’s own description?

Under majestic, climate-controlled glass atriums, you’ll be surrounded by nine acres of lush indoor gardens, winding rivers and pathways, and sparkling waterfalls where you can unwind, explore, shop, dine, and be entertained to your heart’s content. Highlights include a 44-foot waterfall, laser-light and fountain shows, and tours aboard our Delta Flatboats – right inside the hotel.

and thought, “There needs to be a visual narrative for this”? You, dear reader, can only take my word for it that the entry gates to this majestic edifice are flanked by Cracker Barrel and Shoney’s.

Moreover, even my coworkers don’t believe that, while my hotel room does possesss a king-sized bed, that bed is actually a Murphy bed, mounted into the wall and made to look like an armoire! I’m not inclined to chalk that up to anything particularly “southron” so much as flat-out surreal. You’ll have to keep a picture in your mind’s eyes of that horrible realization that my bed was hidden away vertically, followed by a Poe-like scene in which I was nearly crushed by the descent of said bed.

Oh, with the regrets, dear reader. I’ll try to make it up to you with a field trip to Cracker Barrel before I leave.

Home!

Made it! It’s an extra hour of air-time because of headwinds, and the flight was loaded with chattering, chair-reclining Spaniards, who have ascended to the top of my ranking of pushy people. I know everyone says Americans are the worst, but these sons of bitches really took the cake this week, right up to pushing past me at the security check-in.

Anyway, I realized I did sell the Prado short. There are a bunch of great pieces in it that I’ll try to write about when I get settled, but there were SO many crucifixions and virgin-and-child paintings that the overall vibe kinda numbed me.

But I’m home! For 40 hours! Then it’s on to Nashville, where I hope they speak English better than they did in Madrid!

El Sueno De Jamon Produce Monstruos

Went to the Prado today, but it was pretty boring. There was a TON of religious (Christian) art, and it got tedious after a while. On the plus side, I got to see Bosch’s Garden of Delights triptych, which is mindblowing. And Goya’s “black paintings” were in their own section. I’d never really seen Goya’s paintings (just some of his etchings), and this collection was fantastic. His religious art was dull, in my opinion.

The Prado has a single Rembrandt, Artemisa, which sucked ass. Fortunately, the Thyssen-Bornemisza had much better stuff in general, and its Rembrandt self-portrait was much better, too. I realized that I’ve become a little bit of an art-snob, but having the Frick & the Met so close by, and having spent a day in the Louvre, I realized that Madrid’s art-offerings aren’t all that.

Anyway, I’m heading home tomorrow, so I doubt I’ll post again before then. Next missive may be from Nashville, scary as that sounds.

Things are different

Walking through an electronics store here in Madrid yesterday, I noticed that the face on the box of the NBA Live 2K6 videogame is native Spaniard Pau Gasol.

The clerk told me that Gasol actually helped design this year’s version of the game, now, when the score is close in the 4th quarter, it crashes.

Update

Sorry to be outta touch, dear readers! The internet connection at the hotel is dodgier than I thought. Plus, I’ve been working at the conference and then dining with clients in the evenings.

But the conference is all over, so it’s time for sightseeing and souvenir-shopping! Pictures will come when I’m back in civilization, and not this poor-service, non-English-speaking backwater!