Someday we will tell you about our trip to a strip-mined out armpit near the upper Great Lakes called Houghton Michigan during a 100 year snow storm at 25 below zero, clad in an unlined overcoat, a suit, and Gucci shoes. Three identical and utterly depressing motels in town that smell vaguely of the chemicals used to clean up after the last guy blew his brains out there (a real temptation, believe me). Three bar and grills (in reality pizza joints serving hard liquor), pick one, doesn’t matter which one, the plan being to get as drunk as possible and then (try to) sleep through the night, but you have to move your car from the main drag by 11:00 pm for the snow plow and the motel room water smells of chlorine when you drink it and on your skin after you shower in it, and the next morning the stinking lobby does not even have a coffee machine let alone a coffee shop, and we are loudly crunching 8 foot of hard snow pack with our loafers down the main drag walking the three blocks to the law firm hosting the deposition thinking man, this town really is at the bottom of the barrel, then listening to some baby lawyer from a 2,000 NYC law firm go on and on in excruciating detail about how our food distributor client allegedly damaged Nabisco by selling stale Gummy Bears, and us, not caring any more, for the first time in our life walking out of a depo, announcing to the baby lawyer that he could stay all week and ask questions about stale Gummy Bears, but we are not missing the last fricking flight out of this town at 3:30 PM so good bye, we fly back to Detroit, get on a plane back to SF and count ourselves lucky because plenty of others got so depressed in that toilet of a motel between 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning that they (no doubt) hung themselves from the curtain rod and wound up part of the snow pack behind the motel ….
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