OKC to Memphis to Philadelphia

It's past midnight.

I've just arrived at the Philadelphia Int'l Airport from OKC, via Memphis. I'm sitting comfortably in my Dad's two-story white stucco home in suburbia PA. I hear crickets from outside my window and jazz from my radio, a kind break from the obnoxious rap and shouted ebonics of after-hours Boulder Ridge (my apartment back home.)

At the Memphis Airport, I stopped for dinner at Corky's Bar-B-Que. Dinner was delicious (Memphis bar-b-que, after all), and the entertainment was, to my fortune, equally Memphis-esque.

He sang old-time blues, accompanied by his ipod and his soul. At times he shouted, at times he almost cried. It was beautiful. Each song was written for him and by him, it seemed. Even though travelers were scurrying across the way, and hungry diners were waiting impatiently in line, the Blues Man never lost a beat. A fortysomething woman in the corner would shut her eyes and gently rock her body to each line he uttered. A young boy clapped his hands to the lively notes as if his hands were an instrument.

Tomorrow, I rest. Then Wednesday morning, and by morning I mean 3:00 am, my Dad's company car will come take us to the airport. Our flight to Atlanta won't be bad, but from Atlanta to Shanghai = 15 grueling hours of air travel. Thank God for naps, books and love letters to keep me sane.

You'll hear from me soon, friends.

Always,

JC