A physiognomist, studying him, would have said that his face showed neither thought nor reflection, but just some sort of contemplation. The painter Kramskoy has a remarkable painting entitled The Contemplator: it depicts a forest in winter, and in the forest, standing all by himself on the road, in deepest solitude, a stray little peasant in a ragged caftan and bast shoes; he stands as if he were lost in thought, but he is not thinking, he is “contemplating” something. … if he were asked what he had been thinking about while standing there, he would most likely not remember, but would most likely keep hidden away in himself the impression he had been under while contemplating. These impressions are dear to him, and he is most likely storing them up imperceptibly and even without realizing it - why and what for, of course, he does not know either; perhaps suddenly, having stored up his impressions over many years, he will drop everything and wander off to Jerusalem to save his soul, or perhaps he will suddenly burn down his native village, or perhaps he will do both.

Only three days until Saturday when Erin and I exchange vows and I start a new chapter of my life!! I have a rather long list of things to do and I can’t really spend very long writing… but I thought I’d take a few moments just to record some of the stuff I’ve been “contemplating” lately.

I finished up the Yancey book I’ve been reading - The Jesus I Never Knew. I think that this is one of the best books I’ve read about Christianity in a very long time. There were two parts that really struck me as I finished the book. First, the beatitudes and secondly, the story of the sheep and the goats. Yancey painted these in an entirely new light for me and really made me think more deeply about what they really convey.

I finally watched the movie Born Into Brothels. It has been sitting on my “to-watch” pile for about two years now. And what can I say - the movie was incredible. Also, it was much more uplifting than I had expected. I was anticipating something more along the lines of Hotel Rwanda - and Brothels was certainly just as thought-provoking, but not quite as dark. (Despite the topic - children of Calcutta’s red light districts!) This was a very meaningful movie for me on several levels - my work with Emmaus, my visit to The Well in Thailand and the six months when I myself lived in India and worked at Hebron School in Ooty.

It’s impossible to avoid chatter about the election and Barack Obama’s nomination as the Democratic Party’s candidate for president. Such as Chris Brooks’ post about the significance of race and Michael Carter’s post about the oratory of hope and - my favorite - Thabiti Anyabwile’s post which again articulates racial issues. But naturally all of this is juxtaposed with sometimes strong disagreements on his platform; I personally believe that government should be kept small - an outgrowth of my basic philosophical belief in original sin and the importance of strong checks and balances. My friend from Michigan, Hershblogger writes a lot about politics from a similar perspective. It’s strange to hear so many different perspectives on the same thing.

But overwhelmingly, I just feel a little saddened by the whole thing. One of my favorite musicians ever, Derek Webb, wrote a song called A Savior on Capitol Hill. I like both the lyrics and the heavily blues-influenced rock sound. I think that Obama’s campaign illustrates some of my frustrations in this area too - it all rests on “hope”. Why do we place our hope in politicians? Even the perfect president could not fix this place. It’s not possible.

It’s like all the stuff I’ve been reading about Education lately. Take for example this quote from the Economist:

Howard Bryan, who is responsible for English learners in Santa Ana, says that formal teaching methods matter surprisingly little. Pupils in well-run schools with demanding teachers, who are encouraged by their parents, tend to succeed whatever the language.

The problem is that many parents are unwilling or unable to push their children, and most programmes are weak. The abolition of bilingual education has revealed a much bigger problem. California’s public education system is sclerotic, with a meddlesome central bureaucracy and mighty teachers’ unions.

A new “leader” won’t fix California schools any more than a new President will fix the United States. Quite frankly it’s out of our hands. The problem is millions of incarcerated or absentee fathers, greedy businessmen, fearlessly and violently proud young men. It’s cops and judges who take bribes (another one yesterday here in Chicago) and sell hard drugs and traffic girls for prostitution rings. The problem is that we’re lying to ourselves with the “positive” secular humanist philosophy of life that’s trickling down from Carnegie Mellon and Yale.

Take for example Randy Pausch’s amazingly good “Last Lecture” which I just watched last night:

I really love this lecture. He has so much good stuff to say! But I disagree with the fundamental philosophy that underlies the whole thing. I agree that there’s some good in every person. However Randy sees this as cause for optimism. I think that outlook works - as long is you’re a middle-class person who lives in a world of fairness and opportunity. But it breaks down if you’re trapped in a world of injustice and violence and it’s not in your power to change. I think that Dostoevsky paints a much more realistic picture of reality than Randy Pausch. In addition to good, there is evil in every - every - person, and this is precisely the problem with our world. And even I lie to myself and want to believe that I’m a much better person than I really am. I don’t admit my own lusts and bitter selfishness. If I am honest about myself then I don’t think I can have Randy Pausch’s outlook. I need to find hope somewhere outside myself, not within.

Finally, on an unrelated note I read Philippians again yesterday. This is one of my favorite books in the whole bible; an expose on Joy written from a prison cell. In fact the CD I made a long time ago was named after a quote from this book Paul wrote - “to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

But anyhow… back to wedding planning!! Only three days - I’m soooo excited!!!

About a month ago I participated in Chicago Public School’s Teacher For A Day program - and I’ve been meaning to write a short summary. I got to spend the day teaching an elementary school class - and as you can see in the pictures we had a lot of fun! The highlights of the day were taking apart a computer and talking about how it works, and our electricity science experiment. Erin helped me out a lot for the class since she teaches teachers at the Museum of Science and Industry and used to be in a classroom herself.

For the experiment, each student received a bag with all kinds of random objects. They also received a small battery and a christmas light. Their job was to put each item between the battery and the christmas light - and then write down which items made the light turn on and which didn’t. Later we talked about the scientific terms - conductors, insulators and circuits. They hadn’t learned about electricity yet in the class but the experiment was designed so that they didn’t really need prior knowledge - and it was a great introduction!! I absolutely had a ball with the students.

It was also a great opportunity to just get a little more exposed to the community and the schools in Chicago. I think that I personally learned more from the experience than any of the students in my class did. The teacher for my assigned classroom helped out a lot too - in fact she was incredible.

It’s a little humbling to step into their world. By some strange coincidence the teacher I worked with was the same age as me and had even gone to college with some of my high school friends. She was incredibly talented - in fact she spent her lunch period explaining to a few high-level CPS administrators a system she invented in her classroom to manage children at different reading and math levels. They were talking about ways to distribute her ideas throughout all of CPS. This girl is brilliant - with structure/planning/teaching and with managing people (both young and old). And she’s putting crazy hours into developing this classroom.

Another friend of mine was recently chatting with me about his salary. He’s just a few years out of college and is trying to figure out how much of a raise he should demand at work. He’s very smart - but I would say that the teacher I worked with was just as brilliant. And she’ll be lucky to make even a third of what he would like to get paid. What makes her teach? Such a stark contrast.

I know very few people who are this brave. Most of us are afraid of things that make us truly vulnerable. Ironically, I believe that life knows no greater fullness or significance than that which follows terrible sadness. And I think that most people - by their fears - inoculate themselves against ever really living.

It’s interesting to read and feel this against the backdrop of my wedding, which is only 24 days away. In one glance I see both the greatest celebrations and deepest injustices of life. I see a young couple in love who are devoting their lives to each other, and at the same time, I see an old couple in love whose dreams are abruptly cut short. Ann’s paragraph about the words “I’m sorry” is so vivid.

I have found a deep happiness in life. Right now it’s the time for Erin and I to celebrate, and believe me - we’re going to celebrate wholeheartedly!

But I still find this whole thing provocative; it really makes me think about life.

Delivering Bad News
Sunday, May 11, 2008 at 1:26pm

Two days ago I delivered bad news to my patient. This was the first time I’ve ever had to say such a thing to someone in a real life situation. My resident and I walked down the hall towards my patient’s room. She said “Do you want to do it?” I said “No. No, I definitely don’t. I haven’t even watched someone else do it yet!” My resident said nothing. “On the other hand, I know the patient well. Maybe I should do it. We have had all these talks on how to deliver bad news. I think I could do it. I even think I could do it well. You’ll back me up if I miss anything?” I asked. “Yes, I’ll be there with you. I’ll back you up,” she promised. “Ok,” I agreed. “I’ll do it.”

My patient came in to the hospital on Wednesday morning and it was now Friday. She had arrived at the hospital to visit her husband who had just had a big surgery for his cancer diagnosis. She arrived on his floor short of breath and the nurse sent her down to the emergency room. She was admitted to my medicine service the same day so she ended up having to stay in a separate room on a different floor from her husband. We wanted the two of them together when we delivered this news and she was the more mobile of the two.

We reached her room and she was there. My resident said “Hi, Ms. P. We need to talk to you. We thought we’d walk you down to your husband’s room so you could be together while we talk. Is now a good time?” My patient was about to go to the bathroom so we waited for her and told her nurse we were taking her off the floor for a bit. My heart started pounding as I thought about what I was going to say. Memories of a video we watched on delivering bad news came back to me. I turned off my cell phone. I turned off my pager. I wanted absolutely no interruptions. What was I going to SAY to my patient as we walked down to her husband’s room? She was sure to know bad news was on its way. How could I make the walk & conversation less awkward? What could I say to distract her from being afraid?

Ms. P finished with the bathroom and came out of her room. Her IV’s had medication running into them so her left hand was occupied by dragging her IV pole around with her. We smiled at her. I made jokes about absconding with her from the floor. That got us all the way to the elevator. As we rode the elevator down, we talked about her IV pole, and how her friend had to leave the hospital with one. Her friend had named the IV pole and I asked her if she’d named hers. She hadn’t. The elevator doors opened. We talked about her husband and his care as we walked down the hall towards his room. She said his nurses had just started giving him a blood transfusion. She’d had a blood transfusion before so she had been telling him over the phone how much better she’d felt after she got her transfusion to reassure him. Despite needing her own medical care, she was still doing her best to support him as he recovered from surgery.

I’d met Mr. P the day before when I went to his room to retrieve Ms. P’s book for her. Mr. P had sent me back to his wife with all of the flowers from his room. He was allergic to flowers and wanted her to have them anyway.

We reached his room. His own nurse was there, setting up the transfusion. He was sitting in a chair next to his bed. He had his own IV pole with a bag of blood hanging from it, running in to his arm. He was awake and alert although he looked tired and pale. My resident walked into his room and introduced herself. “Look who I brought you!” she said with a smile. Ms. P walked in to her husband’s room. On seeing his wife, he brightened. “We wanted to talk to you together so we brought her down to see you,” my resident continued. We started arranging the room for the delivery of the news. Recalling the video on delivering bad news, the person(s) delivering the news were supposed to be sitting at eye level with the patient. We pulled a chair up for Ms. P next to her husband. I pulled up the remaining chair and sat facing them. My resident lowered the husband’s bed so that she’d be at their eye level and she sat on that.

Oh God. My heart started racing. My palms started to sweat. I thought to myself “Cut it out. Just tell them as nicely as you can without beating around the bush. They have to know. Be kind. Just tell them.” Between the time that my resident sat down and I began speaking, no more than 3 seconds could have passed, but they seemed like the longest 3 seconds ever to me. My heart stopped racing and I opened my mouth.

“We wanted to talk to you together because we got your test results back.”

Now I was supposed to give a warning word so the patient would know that something bad is coming. Something like “I’m sorry to tell you, but…” or “unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately,” “your test results showed atypical cells that indicate metastatic cancer.”

There. I said it. Cancer. We were taught not to couch this word or hide the diagnosis by saying something like “There’s a mass in your lung.” Out with it. Say the word cancer. Be clear.

I watched my patient receive the word, cancer. I watched her look at her husband. He looked back at her. They were holding hands. There they were, a married couple in their late 50’s with no children, dressed in their hospital gowns, both attached to IV poles, sitting in hospital chairs, holding hands, and hearing that she has cancer. I waited for them to look back at me before continuing.

“We don’t know what the source of the cancer is yet. We think the most likely source is a new lung cancer. It could be of a different source that we haven’t found yet. It could also be a recurrence of your previous cancer, but we think this is unlikely because it would appear in the lymph nodes in a different part of your body first and we haven’t seen that.”

Then I reviewed her CT scan results with her. She’d gotten a CT scan when she came into the emergency room because the doctors were worried she might have a pulmonary embolism. She did, as it turned out. Unfortunately it had also shown a giant mass in her lung, nodules all over her lung, and hypodensities in her liver which we guessed were probably metastatic cancer. No one had told her about the spots on her liver or about the big mass in her lung. I knew she didn’t know about it because I’d asked her for her understanding of her CT scan results when she first arrived. For the 3 days she’d spent on my service I’d been thinking about why no one told her about the lungs mass or probable liver mets. With just that image we couldn’t PROVE to her that she had cancer. We just thought it was extremely likely, especially given her smoking history. Maybe being in the loud emergency room, alone, and having a doctor you don’t know tell you that you PROBABLY have cancer that has metastasized isn’t the best way to find out. Instead she had come to the floor, we built a relationship with her over a few days, and we got a tissue diagnosis to prove that she had cancer. We were able to tell her in a controlled environment, a quiet room, with her husband there holding her hand, and with certainty.

After reviewing her CT scan results with her, I paused again. I’d been holding her hand too. She let go of my hand and her husband’s hand to blow her nose. More quiet time. She looked at her husband, who was looking back at her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s ok,” he whispered.

I think I’ll always remember that. “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for getting cancer. I’m sorry that you’re sitting here, trying to recover from major surgery and your own cancer diagnosis, and I can’t support you through it like I’d hoped. I’m sorry that instead you’re being asked to carry an additional emotional burden. In fact, you are being asked to support me. I’m sorry I’m not going to be around forever. I’m sorry that you’re going to lose me. I’m sorry that I’m going to go.

It’s amazing how much two words can convey.

I didn’t cry. I held it together. When I felt they were ready to hear more, I continued.

“Since the test we did already can’t tell us what the source of your cancer is, we’re planning to do a different test on Monday.” I explained the test and what we hoped to learn from it. “Once we know what the primary source of your cancer is, we can send you home and you will follow-up with oncology as an outpatient. They will be the experts in treating you. Based on whatever the source of this cancer is, they’ll be the ones to advise you on treatment strategies and they’ll work with you to balance aggressiveness with quality of life.”

Now I was struggling. I had to somehow tell them that it was very very likely that this cancer was going to kill her, that her treatment would not be curative. I honestly can’t remember what I said. I don’t think I was clear enough about it. Eventually my resident chimed in: “We are not the experts on treating cancers, but we think that it’s very likely that her cancer treatment will not be for a cure. It will be to increase her quality of life and to keep her alive as long we can do so reasonably.” They nodded.

I think we must have said a few more things but they were inconsequential and I can’t remember them. We asked them if they had questions, but they didn’t. I reassured them that we’d be around all day and much of the weekend as we were on call. When they did have questions, we would do our best to answer them. My resident added “We’re going to leave you two here together for about 25 minutes so you can talk. After that we have to take Ms. P back to her room or the nurses are going to come after us.” They nodded again. We left.

I had 10 minutes to get to my lunch lecture. I hadn’t cried yet but I had a gigantic knot in my chest and my nose was running. There were huge cookies and a diet cherry coke among the drinks available at lunch. I love diet cherry coke and they never offer it. It made me smile. I took it and a cookie (and a sandwich) and sat down next to my classmate, Nadia.

“I saw the diet cherry coke and thought of you!” Nadia said. “How’s your day?!” “Yeah, I really needed the diet cherry coke today. God must be looking out for me. My day is horrible. I just told my patient she has cancer,” I responded. “Oh no! Are you ok?” she asked. “No, I’m not ok,” I said. She hugged me. I leaned on her shoulder and shuddered as a short sob came out. My eyes teared up. Still, I stopped myself. Nadia looked at me and said “If it’s any consolation, if I had to hear that news, I’d want to hear it from someone like you.” That did make me feel better and I was able to get a grip, if barely.

After lecture was preceptor group with one attending and 5 students. Our attending, Chad Whelan, always asks us how our week is going. I took the opportunity to talk about what had happened and he went over how to deliver bad news. My preceptor and classmates congratulated me on having done this. Two hours later, I was done so I went back to the floor. I had to go visit Ms. P. I found her back in her own room talking on her cell phone, looking *tired* but like she was getting good support from friends via the phone. She looked up and put the phone down for a second. I sat down. “I just wanted to come see how you’re doing,” I said. “Oh,” she replied. “I’m feeling….upset.” She looked at me, frankly sad. “Yeah, I can understand that. That’s probably better than feeling nothing at all, though.” She agreed. “I don’t have any new news for you. I just wanted to come see how you’re doing and let you know that I’m thinking about you all the time.” I got up. I gave her a hug. “Thank you,” she managed. I left her to talk on the phone and walked home.

Evan was there when I got home. He already knew what I’d done that day and he just waited for me to get my white coat off, put down my cell phone, and take off my shoes. He was sitting on the couch, studying. I crawled into his lap and he patted my head. I started to cry. Just a little at first, but then full blown sobs. “It was horrible,” I said. And I recounted to him how Ms. P had said “I’m sorry” to her husband. When I finally had cried myself out, we looked at each other. “Don’t get cancer,” I said to him. He agreed.

I’ve been slowly recovering from this experience ever since. My dear friends had to hear me talk about it before it happened, because I dreaded it. And now they’ve had to hear me talk about it since it happened, because it’s been totally upsetting. Its only been two days since this happened and I can finally write about it. I have the day off but I have to go over to the hospital to do a complete neuro & musculoskeletal exam on a different patient so I’m going to stop by Ms. P’s room to check on her.

Sometime late Friday evening the hospital administration managed to put Ms. P and her husband into the same room. My resident had been trying to make this happen ever since Ms. P was admitted to our service. I walked into their room on Saturday morning during rounds and they smiled at me. There they sat, each one in their own hospital bed with their own IV pole. Now their friends can come visit them both at once. They had been playing board games together. “Hey, they got you two together!” I observed. “That’s great.” They nodded in agreement. I turned to Ms. P. “The only problem with this is that now you can’t have any flowers in your room because he’s allergic.” Ms. P laughed and said “I know, we sent them home with our friends who came to visit and they were very happy to have them.” “Well, they were beautiful. And they smelled great. But having you two together is definitely better.” “Yes. Yes it is,” she agreed.

Disclaimer: My patient’s name has absolutely no P’s in it. I’m just calling her that to have something to call her.

———- Forwarded message ———-
From: Jeremy Schneider
Date: Mon, May 19, 2008 at 4:52 PM
Subject: Wedding Announcement: 26 days!
To: Jeremy Schneider

Well if the word hasn’t made it out to you yet, I’m getting married! Erin and I began a courtship shortly after we met each other through a mutual friend here in Chicago; and this past January I proposed in a small 4-seat Cessna Skyhawk airplane, 2500 feet above downtown! The wedding will be on Saturday June 14th in Chicago.

Just last week we finished our website - with more pictures and stories!! The name is a little cheesy… but have a look around and leave a comment. :)
http://www.jeremyloveserin.com/

Though we’re keeping the reception small, we’re having an open ceremony and would especially love to invite all of our friends to a swing lesson and dance on the lakefront after the reception! (Think 1920s and 30s lindy hop and jitterbug!) If you’re in the Chicago area then come celebrate with us! The lesson starts at 8pm and directions are on the website.

Jeremy

In most cases, people, even wicked people, are far more naive and simple-hearted than one generally assumes. And so are we.

America was a dream that is no more
although perhaps never truly a dream
or perhaps it was only a dream
but persistent nonetheless

the land-bridge followers, a few explorers,
dissidents, some aristocracy,
some brought against their will, some turned away
and still came anyway, driven or drawn

intoxicating, the allure of hope
from where did this dream come?

a great man urgently says i must act
i heard him just today, pleading with me
a man aged, wise, good-hearted and sincere
the elders say that we must save this dream

their generation, different from ours
depression, holocaust and vietnam
the unions, race riots and urban sprawl
and here, now - we begin.

a young man speaks, i often hear his call
the dream was fraud but we can make it real
if we unite for God and for the poor
these intellectuals speak much and act some
with faint echos of france, and many youth
and visions to redeem society

i’m caught somewhere between evil and good
to try and reconcile diverse things taught
i’m less inclined to believe in the dream
perhaps it was but i cannot attest
my world is new, and not the same as theirs

i ponder pharaoh’s death, the caesar’s fall
imagine chinese tanks, the russian wall
no dream’s immortal or eternal here
greatness is surely but a breeze, a glance
both men and nations

but certainly this never means the end
lest we forget that in the darkest lands
good men still live, if only quietly;
a cruel society is fertile soil
their blood is seed for many more to come
and persecution, rain for thirsty buds

and even still i find much cause for hope
though not where old or young tell me to look
but somewhere else.

and what will i believe when years have passed?
and what will last?

So anyway, Erin (who’s also going on the trip) wrote this great summary of what we’ll be doing and so I’m just going to post her letter.

From: Erin C
Date: Sep 26, 2007 10:16 AM
Subject: 3 days til ASIA! Trip Update.

In THREE days I will be flying over the top of the world to Asia! Three days. Three. Days. Wow.

What an experience it has already been — I’ve been reading about Theravada Buddhism, the predominant religion claimed by people in Thailand and Cambodia; I’ve visited the newly opened Cambodian museum in Chicago and learned about the deep-rooted hope that persists in a people whose country is still torn apart from Pol Pot and the Kmer Rouge regime; I’ve gone shopping at a Vietnamese/Thai grocery store so I could prepare a delicious Thai dessert (mango sweet rice– yum!); and, yes, I’ve even learned how to say “vegetarian,” as well as other key phrases, in Thai, Kmer (Cambodian) and Mandarin.

Throughout it all I have been praying with focus and determination that’s unique even for a stubborn girl like me. And I know my prayers have been joined with prayers from so many different people. I cannot express to you how necessary that has been, and how much that means to me.

I am so humbled at how God takes care of the smallest details in preparation for this trip. As a case in point, I came home yesterday rather late in the evening and there was a fed ex envelope on the coffee table with my name on it. Opening it up, I found that it was a check written out to me from a dear, dear friend for $100, the exact amount that I need to bring over with me to cover food expenses for the trip. I literally cried. What an amazing God: he loves us and knows exactly what we need. I am so humbled.

I’ve been promising a trip update for awhile now, so I will give you a brief overview of the places that we are going to be going and what we are going to be doing while in Asia. It is going to be a whilrwind trip, with the longest stay in any one place being 3 days.

China: We will stay in the Yunnan province, somewhat near the city of Kunming. The organization that the family from church began is doing cutting edge social service work in the area involving everything from medical care to education. The thing that I like best about this organization is that they select and train indigenous men and women to be leaders and trainers themselves. I love that! What a way to help a community build itself up and take care of each other in a sustainable way!

Thailand: In complete contrast to China, in Thailand we will stay in Bangkok — the capital and largest city. The family from the church in Thailand runs a ministry that is an outreach to women and children involved in prostitution. Thailand is immensely involved in sex trafficking; many women and children are forced into it, others are lured by the promise of money, and others enter out of sheer desperation. The ministry helps equip women and children with job and technical skills to make money outside of prostitution. They also provide the emotional and spiritual support so crucial for escaping from this trap. While in Bangkok, we will spend two nights doing bar outreach and days working with the women and children in their classes.

Cambodia: In Cambodia we will visit the large city of Pnom Penh and then will stay with the missionary family in a small village. Cambodia is still reeling after the 4 years under Pol Pot and the Kmer Rouge. For those a little shakey in Cambodian history (I was, before I began researching), Pol Pot was in power for only 4 years, but over a million Cambodians were killed during that time, some starved or died from overwork in the “killing fields” where they were to be “re-educated” and some were outright assasinated by the new regime. The United States also systematically bombed the country (part of a “strategy” during the Vietnam war) and a million more Cambodians are estimated dead from that. During these years, all currency was abolished and school systems (elementary to university) shut down. Temples, art, and music were destroyed. This was part of the plan to create an agrarian system in which all were equals. What this means for the country now is that most Cambodians are extremely poor, in a way that the poorest in the United States cannot fathom. Literacy is almost nonexistant in some parts of the country, and schools are still rare. One fact that stood out for me from my experience at the Cambodian museum was the story that most teachers can only work one day a week because they simply cannot sustain their families on the tiny income that teaching provides. And I thought teachers here were poorly paid! The family we’re working with in the village is focused on teaching and medical/dental care for the villagers.

Prayers:

• spiritual protection
• friendship that crosses cultural and language boundaries
• health and travel safety
• most of all, that the glory of God shines through all and in all

Thank you so much for your faithful prayers and support. I truly have no words to express the depth of my appreciation and my joy that you have joined me in this call. May God’s love delight you more and more each day!

Peace,
Erin

–
“I love the recklessness of faith– first you jump, then you grow wings.” ~William Sloane Coffin

So this is the view from the 12th floor of the hotel I’m staying at in NYC this week. I didn’t realize this when I booked my room… but it turns out that this is the same hotel where the song “Pennsylvania 6-5000″ was written! And this is the hotel it was written about!

Not only that, but when I asked how I should get to work I was promptly told to “Take The A Train”. So I did.

I have to be honest, I was just about done with Enterprise this Monday. The culture is a bit too superficial for me. Normally I wouldn’t care… but seriously, I’ve been using mostly Enterprise for car rentals all over the country - and it seems that everywhere I go it’s pretty much the same. Super-enthusiastic to give you that plastic smile, then as soon as there’s a break in the conversation they run back over to the circle of coworkers to crack jokes about how retarded the last customer (before me) was. Ugh.

But it seems that I can be bribed. Monday I was asking for my usual intermediate car… think I was supposed to get a Civic… and it was taking awhile but the guy assured me that it was on its way. After a few minutes of small talk (Cubs vs White Sox and the like) he went to check on it. Came back and apologized, saying that noone had even started cleaning it.

Then he offered me the free upgrade. But not just an upgrade. No. He takes me into the parking lot, walks over to this Pontiac G6. Now the picture here is after I drove all the way to the client from Dulles airport. Notice the odometer reading? When I sat down in the car it had 6 miles on it. 6 miles. So maybe Enterprise isn’t so bad!

Does that make me a bad person? Anyway, I’ve been having fun this week. :)

Not sure why but I found this amusing. Was at Midway flying to the D.C. area for my engagement this week and I saw this two people at my gate, getting a charge while working on their laptops. Not sure why Southwest had rocking chairs at the gate. I was especially amused by the colorful one that the guy is sitting in!

Spent Thursday and Friday in the DC area and I’ll be back there again next week. Found a Saxby’s to hang out at for a little while when I was there. Not quite as cool as finding a good independent place (I like those better) but I really did like it a lot!