Work took me south to New Orleans.  Just for a short week. 

 Bert Jansch-A Dream, A Dream, A Dream

about One Second into flying I'm restless.   I like flying and traveling, its just a hard time for my brain to sit still, in that small moving vacuum tube.

We started in a burned out house.

and did some interior interviews

I was fine with not making it down to New Orleans proper.

not much food for a Vegetarian on the crab/crawl fish seafood menus, but the local beer was fine.  and everyone was accommodatingly friendly.    Work, I'm lucky to work with people who are friends, who work hard, care about what they do, and are really good at what they do.     Media is such a whore, and that's just fine with me,  egos and heartfelt information,  are mashed together, but I am not really interested in thinking about the thesis/ramification of that statement so onward with the good fluff.

Firetrucks, and interviews in the firehouse, was our last location, then to the scuzzy New Orleans airport.  Beers $9.  a real ugly Dirty place.  Not quite a welcoming/sending off diplomat to tourism.   

Made the change in DC to a smaller plane.  For some reason, walking across the tarmac to the plane is special.   The open, windy, cold reality, my feet on hard ground, climbing steps into the tin can.

I sat in my narrow seat.  I had a very unexpected co-flyer in Brain Walton.  He sat next to me and, I,  from following the tweet world, knew to ask/quell my real curiosity "how did the wind tunnel testing go?".  He was down in NC with Scotty Z working on his TT research.  so we chatted bikes to philly. 

the music, a bit, sorta really different for me, Variety is the spice of life,  cheers, enjoy your perversions. d.

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