Out and About

Dear Kym: Remember a few weeks ago, when you assigned me a travel story to [Insert Midwestern City Here]. And remember I called you  halfway through the trip because I was about to go off on one of the PR reps who told me that a baseball game was "not optional" and I had to go even though I had been up since 6 AM and I was dead tired and willing to walk back to the hotel alone? I didn't have much fun on that trip. Now don't get me wrong, I truly appreciate that I'm in your Rolodex when travel stories come up. I'm not a travel writer, per se. But at least three times a year, you send me somewhere fun to cover travel for your section. And for that, I'm truly grateful. Have I ever told you that? There was Paris. Anguilla. Barbados. The list goes on. And it's because of you, dear Kym, that I get to go on these wonderful (read: free) trips and eat great food and have a getaway from the stresses of everyday life. But the reason for this letter, my dear Kym, is to inform you about my most recent trip. I write to you from Santa Fe, New Mexico, a place I have never been.