Wesley Armstrong, the best plumber in American and the second most important man in my life, was in the hotel last week getting the air conditioning operational.  Wesley told Noel and me the story of one of his many brothers doing two tours in Viet Nam almost forty years ago.  Warren had been wounded twice, and his family always felt grateful he came home in good health. 

Recently, a Vet from Kansas made a trip to Viet Nam.  While there, he visited a junk shop that offered a large tray of American soldiers’ dog tags for sale.   The fellow from Kansas purchased the whole tray and brought them back to a Boy Scout troop he was involved with back home.

Warren has just received his dog tags along with a detailed letter explaining the project from the young men of the Boy Scout troop.

I hope they all earned a merit badge. 

One of the perks of spending my winter on Sanibel Island is to partake of the “Forum” at BIG ARTS .  Many interesting speakers on a variety of topics give a thirty-five minute lecture and take questions from an audience that can seat no more than 415 people.  The hottest ticket this past winter was for the Justice Ginsburg’s lecture.  When Mr. Brown down the street was unable to attend and gave me his ticket, I jumped at the chance to hear my second speech from a sitting Supreme Court Justice.  Ten years ago I was a guest at a luncheon where Justice Scalia spoke.

Justice Ginsburg spoke about writing descenting opinions and took several questions from the audience.  Her husband cooks for her every night, her greatest treat is an opera, she thinks Linda Greenhouse at The New York Times has a brillant command and talent for interpeting what goes on at the Court, the Court receives between seven and nine thousand petitions per year–some of which are handwritten from prisioners, and she socializes with Justice Scalia.  

At the end of the lecture Justice Ginsburg went into the reception hall to meet and greet.  (She donned a pair of beige gloves for the handshaking.)  I went in to the reception hall to meet the folks I had come with looking for my ride home.  It was Justice Ginsburg, her Secret Service contingent and me. 

Without the need for a handshake and without a question, I told Justice Ginsburg that I was at Saratoga Racecourse the same day several years ago that she was a guest of the president of Skidmore College.  She sat in a box on the finish line and I sat in a box many rows behind her.  I told her that each time the people behind her either exited their boxes or returned to their boxes, they were interviewed by her Secret Service contingent.  With just two minutes to posttime for the seventh race, a Damon Runyon type jumped out of his box to run to the betting windows.  The Secret Service jumped on him.  Eager to get his wager down, he loudly exclaimed  to Justice Ginsburg’s bodyguards, “I’m here to play the horses.  What is she here for?  She hasn’t moved all day!”

By then a line had formed behind me.  Justice Ginsburg looked up and welcomed the next person.

I returned to Saratoga Springs last week after a wonderful winter on Sanibel Island.  I drove down in January by way of a fabric mill in South Carolina.  (The sign on the door of the mill advised, “No Loaded Firearms Allowed Inside”.)  I stopped in Atlanta for America’s Mart, where I ordered some wonderful lamps and furniture and rugs for the terraces.  I arrived back at Saratoga Arms in time for the US Food show across the street at the City Center where I chose the new china pattern for the hotel.  We have been using a service for three hundred that we purchased nearly thirty years ago when we were in the restaurant game.

Even though I get to spend my winters in sunny Florida, I try to use that time to expedite the constant refreshing that enables us to earn the title of the nicest hotel in town. It’s obvious I didn’t use my Florida time to refresh my blog. 

General Manager daughter was asked by the New York State Hospitality and Tourism Association (NYSHTA) to participate in a press conference headlined by New York State First Lady Silda Spitzer.  The press conference was held to launch a statewide promotion called “Cozy Inn”.  Until the end of March if anyone books at participating hotels, inns and motels (yes, Saratoga Arms is one of them) for a Friday and Saturday night the Sunday night is free.  The press conference was held on a beautiful Sunday morning in Battery Park in NYC overlooking the Hudson river and the Statue of Liberty.  Mrs. Spitzer was warm, gracious and an advocate for the NYS hospitality industry.  So if you are able to get away to Saratoga Springs for a weekend, make it 3 nights and the last night is on us!!!  Just mention Cozy Inn when you are making your booking and we’ll give you Sunday night.

(Those featured in the picture from left to right are:  Bill Schickel-Geneva on the Lake, Jan Chesterton and Daniel Murphy-NYSHTA, First Lady Silda Wall Spitzer, Howard Mont-Sparrow Hawk Bed & Breakfast, Amy Smith-Saratoga Arms)

During the Christmas holidays,  I was asked by a niece to review her college applications.  Such pressure on young people!

 I was reminded of our youngest daughter’s application process many years ago.  After much thought, she wrote an essay that could be tweaked with a sentence or two and it then worked for each of the colleges to which she applied. 

When this child was six, we purchased a motel and an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town and pioneered the Bed and Breakfast concept in Saratoga Springs.  To our surprise youngest daughter chose as her college application essay topic, How My Character was Affected or Developed by being Raised in a Bed and Breakfast. 

Youngest daughter wrote that if a car pulled in the yard with Michigan plates, she knew that they would never share a bathroom.  If a car with Canadian plates came in, they would choose the least expensive room.  If people got out of their car all dressed in black, she knew they were from New York City and that they would not eat eggs for breakfast but would all try to smoke in their rooms.

 Now all these years later, there are very few B & B’s that ask you to share a bath, the Canadian dollar is worth more than the US dollar and youngest daughter did not choose a career in the hospitality industry.

 A lady telephoned on Monday (December 10, 2007).  She stayed at Saratoga Arms in early November but couldn’t remember which room.  She is packing for a Christmas trip to Mexico and cannot locate her charger.  Did she leave it here?  Tech-savvy daughter asked what brand.  “No idea”, says she.  “It’s very different looking” was the only clue she could give. The computer told T/S daughter what room she had stayed in.  T/S daughter went to the Lost and Found Log and found something that might have been left around the first part of November. 

Now here’s where it gets to be amazing.  Tech-savvy daughter takes a picture of the missing equipment and emails it off to woman packing for Mexico from her iPhone.  “Is this yours?”  Two minutes later woman packing for Mexico emails back with her Fedex number.  And now that it is Wednesday, the charger is in the Mexico bound suitcase. 

I just want to keep up.

As I said in my previous blog, people leave lots of their life behind in their hotel rooms.  Years ago, the housekeepers turned in an engagement ring found in the corner on the carpet.  It held an unusually small diamond, and the office staff theorized that its size was no doubt a surprise to the bride to be.  It was probably tossed across the room and each must have thought the other retrieved it.  No one has ever telephoned for its return, and you know my rule.

There has been a book left behind many times this fall.  Eat, Pray, Love.  All of these copies have been left with bookmarks about one hundred pages into it.  No one has ever telephoned for its return either.  Apologies to Oprah, but I think many ladies are getting stuck.

Based on these “in house” reviews, I have chosen not to attempt to read it. 

We have just finished another busy weekend at Saratoga Arms.  That means on Monday morning the telephone calls start.  “Did I leave my phone charger in Room 218?”  “Did you find my thyroid medicine in Room 103?”  “Oh…I left my favorite pillow there!”  We start shipping on Tuesdays…but only after we receive an email or a call requesting that whatever was left behind be sent back.  It wasn’t always this way, but life teaches many lessons.

Our first foray into the lodging industry was in 1984 when we purchased an old motel on five acres on the outskirts of Saratoga Springs.  We moved our family there.  The only paved area on the property was the 135 feet of concrete in front of the motel, and it was in this area that our six year old rode her bike up and down the sidewalk with our wonderful yellow Lab named Bates Motel trailing behind her. Shortly after we refurbished and opened for business, a lovely couple from western New York State checked in for a few days.  The husband had business in the area and the wife stayed at the motel during the day waiting for her husband’s return.  She was especially kind to little Ann and Bates as they rode up and down.  She fulfilled all requirements to be a pleasant guest.  When they checked out, the gentleman left behind a sports coat hanging in the motel room closet.  I was so efficient and organized in those days that without being asked, I packed it up and sent it back to Syracuse.  Three days later I received a telephone call from a woman who asked me exactly when her husband was at our motel.

I don’t return anything now unless someone requests that it be sent back.

Saratoga Springs is a special city well renowned for premier racing during the summer at the nation’s oldest thoroughbred track.  Every citizen and every visitor, in fact every person walking down the street, can tell you what a furlong is, who won the Travers last year and when post time is for the first race (1pm).  The racing season brings special excitement to our city.

 But…winter and the start of the holiday season has its own magical style.  Last night, Thursday, November 29, 2007, the 21st annual Victorian Streetwalk filled the town with residents and visitors prepared to get into the spirit of the holidays.  Normally busy Broadway was closed to traffic for five hours while strollers filled the streets.  Shopkeepers opened their doors welcoming customers with goodies and treats…cookies, hot chocolate, eggnog, chowder, punch, chestnuts and candy kept shoppers coming back for more.  Santa, Mrs. Claus and a few representative reindeer delighted young and old alike at the Santa house in the center of town.  Santa was a busy fellow appearing in various incarnations around the city, while Father Christmas greeted passersby and Sax-o-Claus entertained on his “north pole” saxophone.  Up and down Broadway choirs singing carols and holiday songs, musicians, jugglers on stilts and entertainers of varied talents entertained the crowds.  Our front porch and steps were a natural stage for three different singing groups.  It was a real treat to hear.  Horse drawn sleigh rides and even a fellow riding an ostrich added to the magical spectacle of the Victorian Streetwalk.  Saratoga Arms has the holiday spirit as well.  The wonderful white wicker that graces our front porch during the warmer months has been stored away and replaced with hanging greens, red bows and white lights.  The mantels inside have been decorated to warmly welcome cold and weary guests.How lucky we are to live in and be a part of this great community!

Daughter just had a sitdown with her mother explaining the duties of a blogger.  I am not paying attention to the timeliness factor.  Well, said I, business is starting to “seasonally adjust” and I took a trip to visit her sister and the triplets, visited her baby sister to celebrate her last birthday in the 20’s and by way of a long, long story, I attended the awards dinner for the International Center for Journalists at the Reagan Building in Washington, DC.

George Stephanopoulos was Master of Ceremonies, I had a chance to “mingle” with Bob Schieffer (and tell him how much I enjoyed him on the CBS nightly news), Tom Brokaw and Bob and Leigh Woodruff and lots of other interesting people.  One of the honorees that evening was a young Egyptian man named Wael Abbas.  He received the 2007 Knight International Journalism Award, the first time such a prestigious award had been given to a blogger.  His introduction stated that “Egyptian journalists are struggling to work as the government imposes new restrictions on their activities, underscored by arrests, convictions and imprisonment. …It is in this context that in 2004 Abbas launched his ‘Egyptian Awareness’ blog.  Abbas has broken news on subjects generally avoided by local media:  protests, corruption, and police brutality.  His vivid first-hand reports, videos and photographs have attracted thousands of viewers and the attention of mainstream news outlets…He has been arrested, beaten by thugs, and faces persistent government harassment and intimidation.  ‘I am an Egyptian blogger,’ he wrote in The Washington Post, ‘and the Mubarak regime is out to get me and others like me.’”

As I listened to the efforts he makes to get his blog out, I thought perhaps I could pay a little more attention to mine.