Apparently, I can’t sleep on airplanes, no matter how hard I try. I shut my eyes for about an hour before awakening to light streaming in through the airplane windows. And once the sun is up, my heart starts pumping a little faster and the adrenaline kicks in. Also, there were babies on the plane. Guess how a red-eye flight goes with babies? AWESOME.
I seriously tried every position imaginable (within the confines of my seat) to sleep. I put my shins up on the seat next to me and bunched up like a pretzel; I extended my legs below the seat in front of me; I turned to the left, to the right, and then to the left. All I got was a sore neck.
But one hour was enough! And we were off and running as soon as we hit the ground. Some quick thoughts after Day 1:
Progressive Field is a great ballpark
Baseball is all about history, and teams need to pay homage to their former heroes. The Indians do this EVERYWHERE. But mostly, there’s a “Heritage Park” with a bunch of plaques and references to famous Cleveland ballplayers. They also have a small Bob Feller Exhibit in the Club Terrace restaurant with lots of cool artifacts.
The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is amazing
I love artifacts, BTW, and the Rock Hall had a ton of them. Like John Lennon’s round glasses and Johnny Cash’s guitar. I spent about 3 hours there looking at everything. Which brings me to the next observation…
Rock stars are small
Like really, really small. You have probably heard that most famous people are tiny (Tom Cruise lives in a modest hamster maze), and rock stars are no exception. Mick Jagger’s clothes looked like they were from the women’s side of Express. Bruce Springsteen is a dwarf. I’m pretty sure Bruno Mars is roughly the size of a large toy poodle.
Anything Interesting happen today?
A CHP car blocked us from entering the freeway tonight because the New Orleans Saints were arriving in Cleveland for a preseason game tomorrow. Jordan bitched about using police to escort a professional football team. Such a Libertarian. Ron Swanson would be proud.
And now, in the words of the immortal Bill Belichick: We’re onto Cincinnati.