Thank You, Ma'am

I've waxed elsewhere on this blog about the inherent power of photographs as metadata for storage of memories. This power can be stored in other objects as well. For example, business cards. I've just been sorting through a stack of ancient business cards and I came across one for Gordon Adams in Philadelphia. Gordon was a friend of mine from the ninth grade in Northern Virginia. An odd, but very pleasant fellow of an artistic disposition, by some unknown means I reconnected with Gordon in 2000 when we were filming with James Brown in Philly.
I only have snapshots of recollections from that experience but I do recall that the last night we were in Philly, whereby Gordon came by and gave us an eclectic driving tour of the city well into the early hours, was one of the more unusual nights of my life. It started back in the hotel where for reasons unclear the production staff were quaffing champagne in our room. We decided to pay the production office a visit before departing for the evening. (Perhaps hitting up the petty cash ATM for 'gas & tolls' for the following day's drive home.)
We all jumped into the elevator with our flutes of champagne, dressed for an evening on the town. For our friend Mike Vernola, this consisted of a black polyester bowling shirt bedecked in flames and leather, fingerless driving gloves. Sure enough the elevator stopped and a group of suits got on. Mike raised his champagne flute, "Good Evening, Ma'am. Good evening Gentlemen." The suits passed around amused looks in the elevator like a naughty magazine and when they got off on the next floor, the woman amongst him gave him an alluring assessment and a sincere "Nice look." Mike raised his glass again, "Thank ya Ma'am." And we went about our night.
I wish I could remember more from the evening, but I have only two recollections. The first is that we arrived at the spookiest stone prison on the outskirts of town, somewhere past midnight. We stepped out of the car for a smoke and our friend Craig sprinted away in the darkness for no apparent reason. He returned about 20 minutes later having completed an entire perimeter run of the prison. Years later, I'm still baffled. And then around 3 a.m. we cruised the Liberty Bell, to stand outside, smoke, and watch the documentary video through the glass as it looped on into eternity.