early-morning funerary reflections

Another one you can skip.

I'm in my room in the Super 8 in Webster, NY, waiting to go to the memorial service I've referenced in other posts (two separate links there). Neither of my parents are here because of my dad's illness; it was to satisfy them that I decided to come, and that's still the reason, even though they're not here. I'll do the service and the lunch, see some relatives, and go home; I hope to get a ride in tomorrow.

It was a long drive from Central Jersey to the Rochester, NY area. I went through the Poconos, and watched the trees show fewer leaves as the elevation rose, then more again as we came down; it was like traveling back and forth in time a few weeks. The GPS led me by Interstate most of the way, but the last 70 miles or so was on a state road. I had nothing but time, so I didn't bother going to the Thruway, and it was not an unpleasant road - but almost all of the businesses along much of it had something to do with cars: sales, repair, gas, car washes. Those that didn't were mostly fast food. Is that all these people do?

Got to the hotel, checked in, looked for dinner. Despite my best intentions, I ate at Empire Hots, a local hot-dog place, because when I went to look, they had "white hots", white hot dogs I remember from my youth. I gave up healthy eating for nostalgia.

Then back to the hotel, and called the excellent wife. She's improving upon the time of my absence by visiting people that she usually sees without me in tow. Then a read, and to bed. The bed is remarkably good. I've found no correlation between bed quality and hotel cost; I've wound up with terrible backaches at high room rates, and vice versa. The Super 8 has few amenities: besides the bed, it has a bath, a hanging rack (not a closet), internet access, and no visible vermin. It's good enough.

It's now about 5:30 am, I've been awake for about an hour, which is not bad for me. There are loud noises from what must be the plumbing in the adjacent rooms, but I mostly slept through the night. I'm not looking forward to the memorial service (mostly, I'm not looking forward to the lunch afterwards); while I know that a few people will be happy to see me, and many more will have no idea who I am (nor will they care), I'm sure I'll do something that will disappoint my folks. Even though they're not here. (There really is no bottom to my craziness, is there?)

Maybe more later.