Monday, May 29, 2006

Thank you Chicago and good night!

Thunderstorms explode over the Chicago airport as I type this. Hundreds of tired, harried bodies mill about was we all wait for the storm to pass over the top of us. We all jump in unison as one thunderclap explodes very near us and drowns out the noise and bustle for a moment with its boom. Tambo is doing her best to sleep while sitting in one of the ass numbing airline waiting lounge chairs and I’m envying her ability to do so with even limited success. Sleep, sleep is not going to come to me for some time.

My body is worn thin, today the standard greeting was something like. “Hi Monk, you look like shit”

Yes, yes I do look like a man who has been ruining on a few hours of sleep and working like mad for the past 4 days. But damn, what an amazing 4 days. My brain is still spinning with all that has transpired since we checked in on Wednesday night. Stories? Stories will follow once the jumbled pile of thoughts that are wriggling about in my brain settle into something more coherent and I can commit them to this digital paper that I have come to rely upon so much.

What I can tell you is this, we were welcomed with such love and warmth that I’m still floored. Financially the event was a success, better than a success. We did, frighteningly well this weekend. Far and beyond our most generous expectations and we owe it all to you, our most amazing customers. Thank you, thank you, thank you. From the volunteers who happily ferried stock too and from our room every day to the customers who came back again and again for more rope, “I just need a little more rope for this one thing I learned…” and then there was the matter of a certain charming woman who always seemed to make me smile when she was near (but that is a tale for another day)

From the bottom of my tired soul, sore ass and aching hands I say thank you again.

It was Sunday night, Tambo and I had reserved just enough energy to finally not want to just collapse into bed and made our way down to the dungeon in order to get some much needed play time in together. We knew we would pay for it on Monday, but to spend 3 full days vending and not play would be a worse crime than missing a few more hours of sleep.

As we waited for a hardpoint to open up I took advantage of a wonderful boy who offered to black my boots. In the proper, “old guard” fashion he lovingly cleaned and polished my work-worn doc martens. His strong, polished stained fingers worked miracles on my dry, gritty boots. Sitting there with Tambo and enjoying the moment, what would happen? A woman dressed as Wonder Woman dashes out of the dungeon screaming in distress? Her pursuer? A boy dressed in a complete, and I mean complete Spiderman costume. What followed was the stuff of every comic book reader’s wet dream. Wonder Woman, bound and dominated with her own lasso of truth. I looked over at my beautiful wife (dressed in a PVC ball gown that would end up cut to ribbons by me before the night was thru) and laughed with delight.

This, this is my life.

The anger of the storm overhead seems to be receding and we will hopefully board soon. Till then I’m going to enjoy the weight of Tambo’s body sleeping next to me and see what I can do about joining her in her slumber soon.