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Fog hung in the air as I crossed the Susquehanna headed to an undisclosed location in Harrisburg. After circling the well-lit blocks of historic Midtown for what felt like a small eternity, I found a spot to park. It was perfect. It had plenty of space and was the last spot behind a “no parking” sign, meaning I could pull right in. Behind me were the flickering orange lights of the Harvey Tailor Bridge, their effect magnified by the low hanging mist that clung to the river.
Some nights when I need to get out of the house I like to go visit my long time friend Mike at his restaurant, The Summit Family Restaurant in Camp Hill, Pa. I go in an hour or two before closing, after the day has died down, and pop open my computer, drink some coffee and maybe eat a turkey club or something.