Personal Narrative-The Granada Theater

With my head still in the clouds from the morning adventure, the bonus that was to come that evening would ensure that my head would stay there. The hotel check-in was still a few hours away, but the drive back to Santa Barbara and a leisurely lunch would make the timing almost perfect. As perfect as the day had been thus far.

Driving without a map usually means taking the scenic route wherever I went, and that day was no exception. That’s all right, lunch first and then the hotel. There happened to be an I-Hop across the street from the hotel, although I didn’t realize that at the time. After a nice lunch and directions across the street from the waiter, it was time to check in. It turned out to be a motel not a hotel. What?! Maybe the day wouldn’t be as perfect as it should have been. My fears were allayed when I got to the room. Not bad, and significantly bigger than the downtown hotels in Chicago which were much more expensive. But the main focus on those trips the last two years was the Chicago Marathon, not the size of the rooms. As long as there was a bed to collapse on
Not of the movie variety, a performance theater, that held maybe a few thousand people. There was a crowd of people milling about outside but I just went directly in. They literally rolled out the red carpet in the lobby, with the ceiling ornately designed and stairs on either side that were bounded by some fancy ironwork. Very nice. The doors that led to the main hall were closed, heavy wood and just as ornately designed as the rest of the lobby. It was quite crowded, with people generally milling about or crowding around a table that was displaying Jackie paraphernalia for sale. I found the snack counter and got myself some water. The day had been a little dehydrating. After about 15 minutes or so, the doors to the hall opened and we headed