Saturday, May 12, 2012
I had an overnight trip this week to give a presentation to the Chicago sales team, so that they'll be inspired to sell more advertising, so that we'll generate more revenue, so that I can ask for more investment, so that we'll generate more revenue. And if you repeat that process enough times it's pretty easy to see how we'll all become mega-millionaires. Or at least I'll get to keep my job.
I got into town a day early and drove two hours west to Prophetstown to see my in-laws. My father-in-law had been in the hospital for some tests, so Jennifer had made me promise to hug him for her--which sounds easy when your wife says it but in real life is kinda awkward. I had supper with them at the Prophetstown Diner, then drove two hours back to Chicago. (In the midwest it's supper, not dinner.)
Two hours in Prophetstown, Illinois is just right: like a pleasant dream filled with green grass, American flags, small-town smiles, and the warmth of family--without an iota of boredom or feeling like I need to check my email. Aside from my butt being sore, it was also nice to drive for four hours by myself, just singing songs and listening to classic '70s rock and conservative talk radio. Watching the farmland whiz by at 70 mph, thinking and plotting and pondering life. Being glad I'm not a farmer. Being glad I'm not a regular listener to conservative talk radio.
My presentation to the sales team the next day went well. I got back to NYC in time to kiss my boys goodnight and snuggle up to my wife and remind her what a good husband I am.