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DonSense: Hotel livin'
By Don Osmond
Deseret News
Friday, Nov. 06, 2009
I have a new-found appreciation for Dorothy's line at the end of "The Wizard of Oz." "There's no place like home."
When it comes to vacationing, hotel amenities (room service, house keeping, etc.) are luxuries to be enjoyed.
Life with no clean up. Could it get any better than this? I submit it cannot!
Funny enough, the past few weeks have been a repeat of an earlier life experience, which I'll explain later. Traveling to Los Angeles for "Dancing With the Stars," and assisting my father with new projects in Las Vegas, means making hotel rooms my home away from home.
Living in a hotel is fun for a while, but the fantasy quickly wears thin. The veil of amenity -- as any traveling business person can attest to -- is a facade to reality. Not to mention, within just a few short days, one can easily eat through the entire room-service menu.
Speaking of eating through the menu, I'll never forget spending four months in a hotel with my father.
After moving to Manhattan to work for a public relations firm, I was in need of a place to stay. My father was performing on Broadway and he resided in a nearby hotel. We became roommates in a high-rise quasi-apartment.
Within about a week of living in the hotel, we had tasted everything on the menu. (Well ... at least everything we wanted to try.) You can only have so many club sandwiches.
Since that experience, we have resorted to getting a refrigerator installed in our room on extended stays. If you think that's weird, try walking through the lobby carrying groceries. However, nothing will ever compare to the awkward looks I got when people saw me cramming a Christmas tree into the hotel elevator in New York. Yeah, we were there for Thanksgiving, too.
There's no place like home.
When it comes to vacationing, hotel amenities (room service, house keeping, etc.) are luxuries to be enjoyed.
Life with no clean up. Could it get any better than this? I submit it cannot!
Funny enough, the past few weeks have been a repeat of an earlier life experience, which I'll explain later. Traveling to Los Angeles for "Dancing With the Stars," and assisting my father with new projects in Las Vegas, means making hotel rooms my home away from home.
Living in a hotel is fun for a while, but the fantasy quickly wears thin. The veil of amenity -- as any traveling business person can attest to -- is a facade to reality. Not to mention, within just a few short days, one can easily eat through the entire room-service menu.
Speaking of eating through the menu, I'll never forget spending four months in a hotel with my father.
After moving to Manhattan to work for a public relations firm, I was in need of a place to stay. My father was performing on Broadway and he resided in a nearby hotel. We became roommates in a high-rise quasi-apartment.
Within about a week of living in the hotel, we had tasted everything on the menu. (Well ... at least everything we wanted to try.) You can only have so many club sandwiches.
Since that experience, we have resorted to getting a refrigerator installed in our room on extended stays. If you think that's weird, try walking through the lobby carrying groceries. However, nothing will ever compare to the awkward looks I got when people saw me cramming a Christmas tree into the hotel elevator in New York. Yeah, we were there for Thanksgiving, too.
There's no place like home.
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