I got half-drunk at a hotel bar in Fresno tonight

but only half drunk.

ten hours earlier: I’m flying.

I’m flying as I write, right now, on a connection to Fresno, California. I’m writing this on a half-page Morgan Stanley ad, deep inside in today’s edition of the Washington Post that I bought this morning at the airport terminal in DC. I’ve read through the whole damn edition. and then I got a bug to write, so I busted out a pen and started writing on the only paper (in this case, an actual newspaper) at hand. I’ll type it up later.

I’ll write on anything. I’ve got notes everywhere. and I’m flying to Fresno.

I have never been to Fresno. I’ve shared my travel plans with a dozen or so people in conversation over the past month.

“I’m going to Fresno,” I say. “for work.” and I’ve gotten two responses. they are:

“you’re going to Fresno? In California?” and “dude. Fresno sucks.”

now, I don’t know Thing One about Fresno, save that it’s a big farm town, and that it’s the home of Fresno State, which in turn is home to the Fresno State Bulldogs. and that Bernard Berrian, a middling wide receiver for the Chicago Bears about a decade ago, played there. and I’m also told that the city of Fresno sells “FresYes” t-shirts (as opposed to Fresno), but I haven’t seen one yet.

but anyway. I don’t know if Fresno sucks. could be it does. but: I doubt I’ll be able to find out in the 24 hours I’ll be there. I’ve got a bus ticket out of town to see friends in San Francisco, and it leaves tomorrow morning. so while I’m there (or, more precisely, before I arrive) I just wanted to take notice: as I cruise above the Colorado Desert, furiously jotting notes on an already old newspaper. I’m capturing the moment. this moment I’m flying into Fresno. and I won’t be here long enough to understand this city.

more later! lots of traveling right now.


1 comment so far

  1. Drustva (@drustva) on

    Locals call the region the “armpit” of California and Fresno its fruit basket. If you get a chance to travel outside the city, you should check out the surrounding farming communities. The drive to Reedley (where I stayed for a week for work) is lovely and the landscape is somewhat reminiscent of Italy. And Italy is awesome.

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