Currently finishing up a one-hour layover at 30th Street Station in Philly, in the midst of an exhausting trip home from Vegas: hotel shuttle to airport cab to redeye flight to Minneapolis to two hour wait on the tarmac to Philly airport to SEPTA train to 30th Street to NJT train to casino shuttle to home. Yes, I left Vegas and the last stop on my trip is a casino before I get home. No, I’m not going to play there.

Anyway, I’m fried and I’ve got time to kill, which is why I’ve blogged more today than I generally do in a month. What got me to pull out the laptop again is one of my favorite things about Philly: there’s a trumpet and clarinet duet playing Christmas carols here at the train station. Skilled amateurs from the sound of it, and there’s no open case soliciting donations. The sound is filling the room and bouncing off the fifty-foot ceiling, and sometimes you can even hear the woodwind.

Random musical performances are all over Philly, and I’m glad I’m here for this one. It’s thoroughly charming, and I say that with no snark whatsoever. It’s good to be home.