I spent three days in the Salt Lake area last week (thus the blaag drought). Man, is that country beautiful. We worked with a lot of great people too. I always meet such interesting agents and their families when I travel, which is a major bonus. The free food and board isn’t bad either – a long-deserved break from the land of cubicles every so often.
The hotel room I stayed in Wednesday night kind of caught me off guard though. The American Inn & Suites (not to be confused with AmericInn) was reported to be one of the better places in town to stay, and I thought it was great. The continental breakfast was superb, serving everything from gigantic pancakes to breakfast burritos. The rooms had a modern look to them (complete with flat-screen TVs): a bold color scheme, a very interesting "office" area, and a couple of nice-looking brick walls thrown in the mix. The only thing was, when I first entered the room and flipped on the light, I saw something I’ve never before seen in a hotel room. Let me ask you: What types of art would you expect to adorn the walls (keeping in mind I was in Utah) in a typical $100-a-night motel? A scenic mountainscape? Nah. Not at the American Inn & Suites. Green pastures at dusk crawling with elk? No. Maybe a print of a classic work like "Starry Night" or something? Nope. American Inn & Suites scoffs at that. At the American Inn & Suites when you open the door and flip on the light, the first thing they want to draw your attention to is a five-foot by three-foot photograph of Babe Ruth. That’s right. The Sultan of Swat hitting a dinger is the focal point of room 110 at the American Inn & Suites. And it truly is the focal point, it’s not just there for you to notice after checking out the place and saying, "Not bad." It’s for you to see FIRST. You know in how in spy movies or some dumb heist film, the diamond or painting or Constitution or other cliche that the burglar wants to lift is spot-lit in an otherwise dark room? That’s what it was like walking into room 110. I thought I had entered the Babe’s private quarters, or like I was opening a baseball collectible shop at five in the morning. I almost fell backward, it leaped out at me so much. Everything else in the room was dark and I had to feel around for a lamp in the dark just to locate the bed (part of the reason was my eyes weren’t quite adjusted to the extreme intensity of the spotlights pointed at George Herman Ruth). I asked the other three guys what pictures they had on their walls, and apparently The Babe wasn’t exclusive to room 110. However, it wasn’t the only picture in the establishment either. Two of them had Lou Gehrig, "The Pride of the Yankees," hanging from their wall, which forces the question: What is it about Tooele, Utah that would make a hotel owner say, "People staying here are going to want to see Hall of Fame baseball players, no doubt about it." Were these pictures free, or did someone actively seek these out because they felt "homey?" When you think "Utah," what comes to mind first? Babe Ruth? Didn’t think so. I personally think Stockton & Malone first. Or Mormons or The Rocky Mountains. Quite possibly the 7,553rd thing to come to my mind is Babe Ruth. It might not even ever come to my mind. I wonder if there are even any Yankee fans in the state of Utah. Yet if you book a room in the Salt Lake area, don’t be surprised if the second-greatest home run hitter of all time greets you with a four-bagger and a smile.
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