A Warm Sweatshirt

Last night I slept in a Columbia motel that met my four comedy criteria: cheap, clean, safe, and wifi.

The night manager was wearing a heavy, tight-weave sweat shirt with an embroidered Louis L'Amour logo, so I asked him about it. Turns out his father couldn't read, and the only books that held his father's interest were L'Amour's westerns, so he used the books to teach his dad to read. The shirt was a rare collectible -- one of only 18 ever made -- the man had bought for his dad, so when his dad died, he got it in the inheritance.

When I opined that a shirt like that probably means a lot to a guy, he said "yeah, and it's really warm, too."

If I'd spent $300 on a Westin room (let's pretend I have that kind of money), I would have had a pleasant, well-managed experience identical to the stay any other Westin would offer. I'd have missed paint-over-plywood repairs, splitting caulk and old (but clean) carpet.

I'd also have missed that story.