Finally back in Socal after a long, strange trip. Transit time was 48 hours, including an adventure through Nashville.

Left Louisville on Friday during a cold downpour. After heavy rain, lightning and tornado warnings the previous 2-3 days, Friday’s weather seemed normal though tiresome. My brother and I drove south on I-65 toward Nashville through the downpour, passing over swollen rivers toward the border. It looked bad, it was bad, and in retrospect the flooding had only begun.

When we got to Nashville the weather was sunny, hot and humid. Felt like a different country. We met up with my old high school friend, ate some excellent BBQ at Martin’s downtown, then attended a cool concert featuring Lyle Lovett backed up by the Nashville symphony. During the first set Lyle introduced a special guest, Chris Isaak, who did a perfect rendition of Wicked Game, among others. Great show, great venue (The Schermerhorn), though by the time we made it to my buddy’s home in Brentwood (11pm Nashville time, midnight Louisville time), I was wiped out.

The next day I got reaquainted with old friends in their big comfy Brentwood home. They’ve had quite the journey since high school – one of those couples who made pretty much all the right decisions along the way, and they’ve been blessed with family love and financial prosperity as a result. Couldn’t happen to nicer people. We had a great day, saw the local sights, then watched the first of the Final Four games.

During the day the weather turned ominous and the storm hit Brentwood, right as I needed to Uber out to the airport. I had decided to stay in an airport hotel that night so my buddy wouldn’t have to shuttle me to the airport at 430am. That evening Uber ride from Brentwood was wild – massive lightning/thunder over top of us, pouring rain and very dark. Like driving through a dream sequence. We made it, and that night the hotel room flashed and shook as the lightning-rich storm parked directly over the airport. Not a lot of sleep, again.

Miraculously, my 620am flight left on time and I had a perfect nonstop journey out of weather central, back to Socal with clear skies and 80 degrees. The difference was surreal. Along the way I got sparkling clear views of the Rockies, the Grand Canyon, and the weird otherworldly brightness of the three Ivanpah solar concentrators near Vegas. Those things might be the brightest lights on the planet – from a plane they look like alien tech.

Some of the best news as I traveled back to the west was that in the second game of Saturday’s Final Four weekend, Dook squandered a big lead and lost their game to Houston in the final seconds. Epic, tragic loss for them. I’m ashamed to say that news gave me great joy.

So back in Socal on a Sunday morning at 9am local time, a long Uber trip to the house, and then collapse. Too many transitions, too little sleep, too many changes in weather and setting. Just a long strange trip.