Hung over from the big NYC Gershwin ROCKPILE show and into the morning revelations with Australian friends we met in New Orleans who finally caught up with us and Arielle Guy. After long drive out of the city, lost in New Jersey, lunch in off road diner, finally arrive in Rochester, checked into the Holiday Inn Express and headed across the street to Bugaboo Grill, a Disney style chain restaurant with talking moose and a fish that flaps on the wall every 15 minutes. Three martinis and a couple of Tequilla shots later the moose started to make sense and the monster trout on the walk had an inimitable flow. We left a fifteen dollar tip and made it back to the room. Road buzz kept me tossing and turning but finally fell asleep. Holiday Inn Express was a noisy drag. Our room, 262 for numerologists, was next to the laundry room. When morning came at 7am the housekeepers had a little party going on. Laughing and talking loud against the rock & roll of washers and dryers. I thought of Garcia Lorca but not sure why. “Yerma!” I quietly asked one of the housekeepers too keep it down. Her laughter was killing the sandman. She took offense and slammed the laundry room door in my face and the laundry room party continued on. Was this a class war? The Union of Housekeepers was setting down some rules. I called the front desk. I figured I had the bosses on my side. Terri crashed the party in her red and black Che Guevara pajamas and made her request bilingually but to no avail. So morning arrived in a sludge. Over tired and aggravated and there is no rest for the wicked. . We ran to meet our Rochester host John Roche and meet new friends at the Lovin Cup…
–MR
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