I’m glad it’s Saturday, as this week got off to a rocky start in our little household. On Monday both Tom and I had to leave on separate business trips. Tom went to Vancouver Island with a group of airline executives while I headed to Pittsburgh for a conference.
When I called Tom from the Chicago airport ( where I was stranded for over 7 hours due to bad weather on the east coast), I found out that he had dropped something really, really heavy on his big toe. Imagine the roadrunner dropping a hundred pound weight on the coyote and you get the general idea. I assured myself that things had to get better and continued on my journey.
I really wanted to like Pittsburgh, but the truth is I just wasn’t feeling the love. Part of the problem was the fact that I was stuck downtown in a depressing conference hotel. Like many American cities, the downtown core of Pittsburgh has a 9 to 5 feel to it, becoming a ghost town at night. I was feeling more than a little homesick.
During the conference someone casually mentioned that Falling Water was only a few hours drive from Pittsburgh. The wheels in my head starting turning, if I could just find my way there I was pretty sure this whole bad experience would lead to redemption. The main obstacle was you can’t just show up at Falling Water and ask to borrow a cup of sugar, you need a reservation to visit Frank Lloyd Wright's masterpiece, which is often completely booked at least a year in advance. The hotel concierge assured me that the whole idea was impossible.
To make a long story short, I ended up meeting a PR chick who hooked me up. Not only did I make it to Falling Water but I was also able to visit Kentuck Nob, another FLW house. It was a magical, life affirming experience. The clouds parted and the sun shone as I drove through the beautiful Pennsylvanian countryside - the small towns I passed through reminded me of a John Cougar Mellencamp song - not to mention that Falling Water was everything I hoped it would be.
It has been my experience that the best things in life are unplanned - I guess my trip to Pittsburgh PA wasn't such a bad idea after all.
When I called Tom from the Chicago airport ( where I was stranded for over 7 hours due to bad weather on the east coast), I found out that he had dropped something really, really heavy on his big toe. Imagine the roadrunner dropping a hundred pound weight on the coyote and you get the general idea. I assured myself that things had to get better and continued on my journey.
I really wanted to like Pittsburgh, but the truth is I just wasn’t feeling the love. Part of the problem was the fact that I was stuck downtown in a depressing conference hotel. Like many American cities, the downtown core of Pittsburgh has a 9 to 5 feel to it, becoming a ghost town at night. I was feeling more than a little homesick.
During the conference someone casually mentioned that Falling Water was only a few hours drive from Pittsburgh. The wheels in my head starting turning, if I could just find my way there I was pretty sure this whole bad experience would lead to redemption. The main obstacle was you can’t just show up at Falling Water and ask to borrow a cup of sugar, you need a reservation to visit Frank Lloyd Wright's masterpiece, which is often completely booked at least a year in advance. The hotel concierge assured me that the whole idea was impossible.
To make a long story short, I ended up meeting a PR chick who hooked me up. Not only did I make it to Falling Water but I was also able to visit Kentuck Nob, another FLW house. It was a magical, life affirming experience. The clouds parted and the sun shone as I drove through the beautiful Pennsylvanian countryside - the small towns I passed through reminded me of a John Cougar Mellencamp song - not to mention that Falling Water was everything I hoped it would be.
It has been my experience that the best things in life are unplanned - I guess my trip to Pittsburgh PA wasn't such a bad idea after all.
1 comment:
Oh Mika, I am so jealous! It is one of my life's dreams to visit Falling Water. I have been a groupie since I was a kid and we used to fuel up at a tiny FLW-designed gas station in the middle of Minnesota on family summer vacations.
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