3:29 am

Portland, ME - A cool and overcast night, in a city that usually sleeps.

Overall, the last few days have been pretty low key. It has been an absolute pleasure staying with my sister's family this last week. I've had the opportunity to spend more time with family and friends than I usually do in a typical trip to Maine. Surprisingly, the weather in Maine has been cooler than expected. Its nearly the solstice now, and still the nights in Maine have been chilly.

I admit, I'm beginning to feel a little restless to hit the road again. Its been nearly two months now since I left San Francisco, and I miss my family back there. While I'm excited to see the sights along America's northern rim, at this moment I'm looking forward most to crossing the Golden Gate Bridge and returning to my home on 10th Avenue. It should only be a few weeks now.

Ahem. But, back to the Great Lost Bear.

On Saturday evening, I went to the Great Lost Bear with my sister, Jack, and their friends Dave and Lisa. With Jake and Sam under the attention of D&L's teens Michael and Kaitlyn, we had ourselves a grown-up night out. The GLB is a nostaligic favorite of mine. I remember going there for the first time as a teen with Jack (way before Jake and Sam were in the picture) and I've loved the place ever since. The GLB is impressive most for its large selection of Maine microbrew beers on tap. It also boasts a gigantic menu. Typically, dinner will entail a beer or two and a plate of buffalo wings and super nachos. This night was no exception.

After dinner, we drove over to the Eastland Hotel in downtown Portland for a nightcap. The lounge at the "Top of the East" features one of the best views of Portland and Portland Harbor. We had fun sipping drinks and gazing downward on Portland at night.

On Sunday, Sarah, Jake, and I took Maggie Mae to a nearby dog-walking park for a little exercise. The park features a loop appoximately one-mile in length, as well as a smaller fenced-off area for letting one's dog go free. The three of us jogged around the loop, noticing that several other folks were there to photograph birds. We saw one ornithological-minded fellow wearing full camoflauge and carrying a high-powered telephoto type camera. With all the dogs running about, we doubted he would see too much. Ah well. After the jog, we stood around and watched some dozen or so dogs pounce and play within the fenced-off area.

Later in the day, I took the white wonder for a little drive down to Medway, Massachussets (just outside the greater Boston area) to visit with my longtime friend Alex and his wife Marissa. Its funny, but after driving for so long across the country, a two hour drive feels like a trip to the grocery store. Just a hop and a skip, really.

Alex and I have been friends since high school, he's one of only three or four friends I still have from Bonny Eagle. Almost exactly a year ago, I'd flown out to the east coast for Alex and Marissa's wedding in Connecticut. The wedding was a lovely affair. At their home in Medway, I could see that the two of them were still getting settled in their new home. They had only moved into the place last January. While getting the tour, I noticed the pool in their backyard and knew that a canonball was in my future. We spent some time catching up and watching the Red Sox game on the tube, it was the third game of their series against the Diamondbacks (they would end up losing this one 5-1, but won the series 2-1).

Afterwards, they took me to a local restaurant called Incontro. We were uncertain as to what the name meant exactly, but enjoyed our dinner immensely. Later back at theirs', Alex and I did some music exchanging. Alex had prepared a roadtrip playlist for my trip. I moved it onto my iPod and decided to save it for the right moment on the road. That night I slept like a rock, the sound of a nearby stream lulling me into a heavy heavy slumber.

In the morning I awoke to an empty house. Alex and Marissa had left much earlier to catch a train to their jobs in Boston. I made a pot of coffee and worked up the nerve to jump into the 65 degree pool out back. After a couple cups of joe, a canonball, and a shower, I headed to Boston to meet with Alex for lunch. Alex works in the Prudential Building plaza area of Boston's "back bay" district. Also in the back bay is Fenway Park, where my dad and I will be returning this Saturday to see the Red Sox play the SF Giants. Its looking like Daisuke Matsuzaka will be pitching that day. Hopefully the Sox can get their offense back to life by then. I even bought a number 58 "Papelbon" t-shirt for the occassion...

ANYWAY, I was rudely cut-off a couple times making my way to the back bay, and quickly remembered where I was. Most of the streets in Boston are laid out so poorly that one needs to be aggressive to get anywhere. Not wanting to fight my way to a parking spot, I drove the white wonder into the Prudential underground lot. Alex and I got a burrito at a place nearby. I had a buffalo chicken burrito and a "strawbana" smoothie. The buffalo sauce was pretty spicy. Yow. Thank god for the smoothie.

After that, I wandered around the back bay for a while, checking out the Public Gardens, Boston Commons, and Copley Square. This was a part of Boston I'd never really explored before. The sun was bright and getting hot, and I had totally forgotten to put on sunblock. Luckily, I've worked up a pretty nice farmer's tan on this trip, and so I didn't really burn much at all that day. I wandered for an hour or two and then headed back to the car and Maine. I made it back in time for dinner with the Lufkins. I had more fun reading "Tuff Fluff" to Jake and Sam the second time than I did the first. (http://www.candlewick.com/cat.asp?mode=book&isbn=0763618829&browse=Title)

On Tuesday morning, Sarah and I took Maggie Mae to Portland's back bay for a run. The loop around back bay is about 3.5 miles, which was just right for me. However, Maggie is under orders from her veterinarian to run only a mile or so at a time. For the first 3/4 of a mile or so, the three of us jogged together. After this, I took off to finish the course by myself. The problem is, Maggie gets separation anxiety in situations like this, and so she tried to give chase. It took alot of effort on my sister's part to hold her back until I was out of sight. The run was great. I should be close to back in shape by the time I leave on Monday.

In the afternoon I drove back to the Old Port to catch a movie. "Knocked Up" was playing at the Nickelodeon Theatres. I had an hour to kill before it started, so I wandered around again for more picutres. The clouds had cleared away, and I had a sunny afternoon setting for my snapshots.

"Knocked Up" surprised me. (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0478311/) The title had me expecting an out-of-control and flip comedy about unwanted pregnancy. Instead, I was treated to a hilarious and touching screenplay, a great soundtrack, surprisingly good chemistry between Seth Rogen and the rest of the cast, and even a cameo role by Harold Ramis. I would definately recommend "Knocked Up" to just about anybody, although not necessarily in a theater. (A-)

After the film, I got a green tea and read the Sterling Hayden book for an hour or so in a nearby cafe. I came back to the Lufkin's house later to find that my sister had left me some dinner in the fridge. Aw. Thanks, sister'o'mine. That night, my third rendition of "Tuff Fluff" was better than ever. At this rate, I would be ready to take my performance on the road within a few short weeks.

That brings us to this morning. I woke up a little earlier than usual and drove over to Standish to rendevous with my mom. The plan was to pick up my grandmother and take her shopping in North Conway, NH for a new reclining chair. My grandmother lives in Bridgton, ME, a sparsely populated town home to lots of trees, gorgeous lakes, and Pleasant Mountain. (http://www.loonecholandtrust.org/html/pleasant_mountain.html)

From Bridgton, the three of us drove over to North Conway for some shopping. People will often cross the state line from Maine, as New Hampshire does not impose a sales tax on most items. North Conway, for the most part, offers gads and gads of factory outlet stores and lots of restaurants. I was surprised to find that Old Navy had a factory outlet. The idea of Old Navy offering discount clothing was difficult to grasp, since it's so cheap to begin with. While we did find a couple stores to poke through, we did not find a single seller of recliner chairs. I did, however, get some very nice pictures of flowers.

Defeated, we went to a spot called Horsefeathers for conciliatory drinks and lunch.

Reclinerless, yet nourished, we drove back to Maine and drove about the countryside for a while. We even saw the famous Maine roadsign which directs the driver to various nearby towns named after foreign countries. It kinda reminded me of the roadsign I'd seen at the Smithsonian from M.A.S.H. Back in Bridgton, we drove around the Bridgton Academy (a prep school) and visited a farm which has a llama hanging out with some sheep.

After getting back to my sister's, the rest of the day was spent mostly lolligagging and writing this blog. I watched the Red Sox get obliterated by Colorado (Colorado ferkrisakes!) for a short while too.

I've started to plot a course for my return trip. I'll begin by camping in Vermont and upstate New York; followed by stays in Cleveland, Chicago, and Stillwater, MN. From there I'll be camping my way across the north, roughly following I-90, until I reach Seattle. From Seattle, I'll go to Portland, Redwood NP, and then, finally, San Francisco. I should have a projected day-by-day plan ready before I leave Maine.

But first-things-first, I have a Red Sox game to attend. And thats pretty cool.

I wish I could just hug you all.

More soon.

Andy

To see s'more pictures of Maine and Boston:

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMnLVq3aN2Iu

sigur ros

Portland, ME – A cool and misty overcast afternoon in Maine, my arms are achy after an overdue gym workout

After a few days in Maine, I can honestly say that I’ve lost my road weariness. Last night I had a series of long and intricate dreams, the kind of dreams that only come with deep sleep. It’s a strange feeling to drive nearly 7,000 miles from home and end up in your other home. I’ve spent so long driving through unknown states and getting lost in foreign cities, so it’s a great feeling to be somewhere again where I don’t have to think about how to get somewhere.

So, ok, back to Connecticut. I checked out of the sketch-o-lodge around 9am after staying up until 3am finishing the previous blog. The drive to Maine was easy and uneventful. I drove through Rhode Island, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and then drove across the Piscataqua River into Maine. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piscataqua_River) I had a humongous smile on my face when I drove past the Maine greeting sign, which reads: “Welcome to Maine – The Way Life Should Be.” I gave the Integra some loving words of encouragement and gratitude, being impressed that she had taken me so far. I gave the dusty dash a pat.

Good job Integra, good job. You’re a rock.

My first stop was my sister’s house in Portland. After big hugs and welcome tidings from sister and Maggie Mae, we caught up a little bit before my nephews Jake and Sam got back from school. Over the last five years or so, my sister has run a daycare at her home. It started as an all-day thing, but now its simply an after-school stop for some five to eight kids. I was so pleased to find out later that the group of little ones had made me a welcome home sign.

The next stop was Standish. It had to be two or three years ago that I first got the idea of driving across the country to Maine. Since then, I’ve had this persistent image in my head of driving the white wonder all the way to my parents driveway in my hometown. So, it was with a great sense of accomplishment that I pulled up to the house where I spent the much of my childhood. I stepped out of the car and had a moment with the Acura. I gave her a pat on the roof and then stepped into my childhood home to give my mom a hug. I said “I’m home mom, and I brought the car this time!” My dad got home from work a little later. There was a big hug waiting for him as well.

Being a dedicated reader of my blog, my mom had prepared a dinner of rib-eye steaks, baked potatoes, and broccoli. My dad fired up the Weber and let me grill the biggest steak for myself. Nirvana. My parent’s 40th wedding anniversary had been the day before and so their wedding album was pulled out. Its strange to see pictures of your folks from forty years ago. They were just out of school. Such a fetching young couple they were. A more familiar picture of my great uncle at sixteen was retrieved as well. The picture is eerie, since he looked very much like I did at the same age. Genetics are a funny thing.

After a couple glasses of wine, they were open to some pictures. Still quite the fetching couple, don’t you think?

The next morning, around 7:30am, I was awoken at my sister’s place by my nephew Jake and a lick in the face from Maggie Mae. The Lufkin family wakes up around 6am or so, and so, to them, I’m quite the late riser. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of waking up and having a pot of coffee ready for you. It feels like home. I had a couple cups of joe and watched cartoons with Jake and Sam a bit before going to the gym for a spin class.

My sister, Sarah, works at a gym and teaches a spin class a few days a week. Eager to get back into a regular workout routine, I gladly accepted her invitation to join. Although, I was sure I’d get my butt kicked. In each of her spin classes, my sister will "guide" her group to some American city full of hills and straitaways. My sister announced to the class that we’d be tackling San Francisco, and I groaned. Throughout the forty-five minute ride, my calves twitched, seemingly always on the verge of cramping up. I finished though, barely. My legs and hips were sore the rest of the day, but I was so glad to have started a regular workout routine once again.

After a quick shower, Sarah and I met up with my mother and grandmother for lunch. I was ravenous. It felt good to have that post-workout hunger. We all caught up a bit and enjoyed our pasta bowl lunches.

My sister and I returned to hers to hold a small birthday party for my nephew Sam. Sam had turned seven years old that day, and the daycare crowd celebrated with cake and ice cream. Sam had made himself a birthday crown for the occasion. All hail the birthday boy-king. We next walked over to a nearby little-league baseball diamond for Sam’s t-ball game. My brother-in-law Jack coaches Sam’s team. Watching the game, I could see the most basic of baseball fundamentals at play: 1) Hit the ball, and run! 2) If the ball is hit towards you, go get it, and get it to first base. The game was madcap, each hit would result in a group of kids pig-piling on it. The mother who was keeping score would wear a puzzled expression, wondering how to score each of the at-bats. Most often, the plays would be scored as “comedy-of-errors.” All the kids were having a ball though, which is the most important thing.

The next stop was Sam’s elementary school, where a number of children’s book authors were reading stories and signing books. Sam picked up the very entertaining “Tuff Fluff – The Case of Duckie’s Missing Brain.” I had the honor of reading it to Sam and Jake later that night. The book was a joy to read, as it was in the classic style of film noir.

After the book event, we all went out for a post-game/birthday boy pizza dinner at the Portland Pie Co. I was amazing to find that the place served Leinenkugel’s beer (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leinenkugel's), which my friends Zack and Steve spoke of often as a popular beer back in Minnesota. The pizza was delicious, and Sam had a birthday cookie, complete with a lit birthday candle. We all slept quite well that night.

I woke up the next morning to a bright a beautiful sunny day. No longer able to stand the sight of the Integra interior, I took everything out and gave her the vacuum and Armor All treatment. Maggie, the ham, posed in the emptied trunk for a picture. I was tempted to clean the outside of the care as well, but knew I could easily spend the rest of the day washing and waxing. I decided to leave that for another day.

From there, I took the glossy-interiored white wonder for a drive to the Old Port district of Portland for photos and lunch. The Old Port now reminds me of a scaled-down Seattle, with its beautiful brick buildings and its close proximity to the sea. I wandered about Monument Square and Exchange Steet and was bombarded with memories of all the times I had spent there. I remembered my teenage years. After getting my driver’s license, I spent a lot of time in the area, just enjoying my new small degree of freedom. Friends and I would visit the Exchange St. coffee houses and loiter about for no particular reason at all. I sat in the small park at the head of Exchange St., eating a gryo and watching the breakdancers put on a show. Oh sunny sunny bliss.

From there I drove over to Cape Elizabeth for a visit to Fort Williams and Portland Headlight. Portland Headlight is probably the most recognized icon of Maine in the world. My father grew up in Cape Elizabeth, and when I was a child my family would go there often to visit my grandparents, who lived right on the coast. Back then, the rugged Maine coast was a playground to me. Portland Headlight was a pleasure, as always, to visit. I can’t tell you how many I’ve been there. However, for the first time, I actually went into the little museum which is inside the lighthouse. The museum at Portland Headlight explains the history of lighthouses in America, and chronicles the many changes the lighthouse and military had gone through since the early 1800’s. It also explained in detail the role of lighthouse keeper, and all the individuals who had served in that role over the years. I was impressed, and a little moved. By the time I had worked my way to the lighthouse’s automation in 1991, I got a little choked-up. It was an end of an era.

I returned home and took Sam and Jake to Jake’s little league game. Jake is on a double-A coach pitch team. At this level, the kids hit clean line drives, field ground balls, catch pop-flies, and can even turn double-plays at times. Jake had a good day, hitting a single and a double, as well as catching a couple pop-flies. Jake’s team was short a man, and so Sam got the call up to the big-boy league. Jake and Sam are my favorite kids in the world, and being able to spend time with them has been one of the biggest highlights of my time so in Maine. (Just a historical footnote, it was on this day that Curt Schilling came within one out of pitching a complete-game no-hitter against Oakland. The Sox won 1-0 to avoid being swept in the Coliseum.)

The next morning, I woke up earlier than ever to drive out to Standish for a lil’ boating adventure. Standish rests at the base of Sebago Lake, which is the second largest and deepest lake in Maine. Being a Friday, the lake was all but deserted. On the weekends though, the place is a circus of boating enthuasists. Not a single other boater in sight, we launched at the southern tip of Sebago and cruised the entire lake perimeter. I couldn’t remember the lake ever being so calm. At places it was a mirror, which allowed my dad to push the boat to its top speed of 45 mph or so. We cruised by countless lakeshore houses. While the clear lake water looked inviting, its 60-degree temperature quelled any notions of taking a dip.

Oh the memories. My dad has been taking me out on lake and Casco Bay since I was a little one. This little trip shines as one of my favorites though. The weather was perfect. We stopped at a popular sandbar for a lunch of sandwiches and Pringles. Normally, this sandbar is lined with all sorts of boaters. Today, however, we had it all to ourselves. I was so happy to have some quality father-son time with my dad. I was also pleased to discover that the area had its own horseshoe pit, complete with horseshoes. With North Carolina beach-house memories still fresh, I pitched some shoes for a while, and even managed to get a ringer.

We finished our tour of Sebago Lake and headed back to Standish. I had that sleepiness that comes with riding around in boats all day. I could have curled-up into a ball and slept for hours at my folks’ place, but pushed on back to Portland for Sam’s real birthday party. The birthday party proper was held at Jokers, which is a Chucky-Cheese type of place. It reminded me of my high-school job working at the Discovery Zone (I’m not even sure if this company still exists now.) At the heart of Jokers is a labyrinth indoor playground, made up of tubes, slides, ball-pits, etc. There was pizza, cake, ice cream, and presents. I had a blast playing skee-ball.

After the party, I went to my favorite little movie house in the Old Port called “The Movies in the Exchange.” The Movies is a single-screen theater which plays independent and foreign films. I saw the film “After the Wedding” and was impressed. The cinematography captured me from the beginning. The characters were well drawn and three-dimensional. The screenplay was dazzling. I was moved. Go see this film. (A) (http://www.aftertheweddingmovie.com/)

That brings me to today. This morning Jake and Sam helped me upload my pictures to Shutterfly and we later played a little ball in the backyard. I went back to my sister’s gym for another workout. It feels so good to be getting back in shape, words can’t describe. Later tonight, Sarah, Jack, and I (and some other friends of theirs) are going to my favorite restaurant in the world, The Great Lost Bear. I’m salivating just thinking of it.

I am loving being home in Maine. My road-warrior weariness has evaporated. It’s been seven weeks since I left San Francisco. I miss it more than ever. But for now, I’m soaking it up in Maine. These are good days.

More soon.

Andy

To see all the pictures from Connecticut to now:

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMnLVq3aN2Id

ethiopiques

New Haven, CT – A soggy drizzly evening in Yale-country - an unplanned stop

I’ve met with some serious rain and traffic today. Looking back, the drive from California to North Carolina was simple and relatively care-free. Out there, you just get on one highway and then stay on it until you reach your stop. But it all changes once you get to the northeast. Navigation around DC, Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania is confounding in comparison.

Today, I had originally sought out to reach Maine from Philadelphia, but the weather in New Jersey and New York caused hours of delay, and now I’m here in Connecticut. My final east-bound destination will have to wait yet one another day.

But lets go back to Pete and Sara’s place back in Queens.

Pete and I were spending a quiet morning at his apartment in Queens. My fingers still a little sore form playing Guitar Hero II with Pete, Sara, and Jay (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guitar_Hero_II ), I ate a big bowl of Kix and drank a bunch of coffee as I wrote and re-wrote my blog. Pete woke up a little later and started preparing for his performance, which was later that night. We chatted for a while about our lives, movies, music, and his improv troupe “Chicago City Limits.”

In the afternoon, we took the 7 train from Queens to Manhattan. We wandered about midtown for a little while before Pete had to go to a meeting with the show’s production team. With a couple hours to kill, I bought a New York Times and walked over to Central Park. It was warm and sunny, a picture perfect day for a walk in the park.

Central Park is grand and romantic looking. Woody Allen’s “Manhattan” came to mind and I recalled how good New York looks in black and white. Although, this day was definitely one for color film. The sidewalks and streets had steady lines of joggers seeking their ideal heart rate. People were napping all around in the ample shade.

I closed my eyes and could make out the clip-clop of horses tugging carriages. I heard children screaming and music from a distance. I heard Birds. I heard traffic horns from the busy-busy-hurry-up-and-go hustle-bustle of the streets. I opened my eyes and read the Times. I wandered a bit more and watched part of a co-ed softball game.

With a little time left, I walked back towards Times Square to snap a few pictures. Earlier in the day, Pete had told me it was possible his show would be cancelled due to low attendance. When I showed up at the venue, it looked as though the performance would be cancelled. I overheard the show manager telling the ticket-taker just that. Having already seen the show, I was just as happy to have a couple extra hours to explore Manhattan with Pete.

That’s when the little ones showed up. Six kids and a couple lady chaperones arrived just as the manager was heading out the door. The ticket-taker explained to them that the show had been cancelled. A barrage of gratuitous whining and pleading took place from both the children and the mothers. After explanations and negotiations, the manager agreed to put on an abbreviated show for the young audience. Normally, the show is performed in a club setting amongst a cocktail sipping audience. It was really fun to watch how the group adjusted its act for the chocolate milk-sipping crowd.

In a typical “Chicago City Limits” sketch, the troupe will establish a basic premise and then take direction from its audience as to what the content of the performance will be. With the Teletubby-Generation at the helm, the sketches were comprised mainly of toilet and slapstick humor . From my perspective though, the show was just as entertaining. (B+)

The performers met with the little ones briefly out on the street, and then disbanded. Canedy (Pete’s fellow performer), Pete, and I walked downtown a bit to Rudy’s Bar and Grille. Rudy’s is a cool dive bar which offers a nice backyard patio area and free hot dogs. Hot dogs and beer, on a warm summer night, hit the spot. I was having fun in New York.

In the morning I got up early enough to have some coffee and watch cartoons with Sara before she left for work. Sara and I were both in the College Avenue Players and buddies back at Rutgers. I had the pleasure of acting in a couple plays with her, my favorite being “The Heidi Chronicles”. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Heidi_Chronicles )

After hanging out with Pete for a little while, I took the number 7 train again to meet up with a couple more old CAP associates, Doug and Jay. I had worked with Jay several times doing sketch comedy shows. In CAP, we would do two sketch shows a year. The first was made up of sketches from Monty Python, Kids in the Hall, The State (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_State_(TV_series) ), and Saturday Night Live. The second show was comprised entirely of student-written sketches. Doug wrote a bunch of those sketches. He's currently working towards getting his novel published.

Doug Simpson and I worked together in several sketch shows and dramatic plays. In our senior year, Doug directed Mike Cavanaugh and I as Oscar and Felix in “The Odd Couple”. That show was a lot of fun. Doug, Jay, and I got sushi in the Chelsea neighborhood and talked about movies, CAP, and baseball. Later on, I was also able to catch up with another old RU friend Dan, who happened to work in the same building as Doug and Jay.

After lunch, I grabbed an iced coffee and made for the village (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greenwich_Village ) on foot. On a gorgeous summer day I strolled down Bleeker Street and snapped pictures of city life. I saw beautiful brick townhouses, record stores, kids cooling off in mini-park sprinklers, and high-priced clothing boutiques. I saw a trio of dachshunds waiting on the sidewalk for their escort to return. After getting lost for a little while, I found Washington Square Park and people-watched.

Pleased with my tour, I got on the number 2 train and met Sara in midtown. With an hour or so before Pete’s play, we grabbed dinner at a pub, the Triple Crown, near the theater. It was a real treat to reconnect with my old friend for a while. We walked over to the theater and saw Pete’s play “You Can’t Take It With You” (http://www.tschreiber.org/theatre/index.htm ). Pete played the role of Donald. The play was hilarious and poignant. The comedy is set in the 1930’s, and reminds one to live in the moment and do in life what truly makes one happy. I laughed really hard at times and would seat-dance with Sara as bouncy swing tunes played during the set changes. Fun. (A-) After a drink with part of the cast we returned to Queens.

I slept in late the next morning and kicked myself for missing the opportunity to give Sara a hug good-bye. I watched Crocodile Dundee on the tv and vegged. Pete got up later and we watched Crocodile Dundee II. I collected my gear and made my ritual scan of the apartment for anything forgotten.

On this trip I’ve managed to leave a bread-crumb trail of forgotten items from sea to shining sea. Shampoo. Deodorant. Laundry detergent. Toothbrushes. Soap. Shaving crème. I most recently left my cell phone charger at Rachel and Jay’s house in Highland Park... Luckily I brought a second charger with me…

ANYWAY, after the Crocodile marathon, Pete and I went for a walk in the enormous Calvary Cemetery for a little quiet time amongst a noisy Queens borough. We talked about mortality, relationships, the film “Garden State”, and tattoos. We then took the white wonder over to Manhattan to meet up with Jay Tyrrell (my long-time college roommate and fellow CAP member). We left the car in the care of a nearby garage and I thought of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”. Jay was doing part-time work for an independent film distributor and met with Pete and I after finishing his day. The three of us sat for a while in a café plaza before it started to rain. Pete took off for his next performance of “You Can’t..” and Jay and I took the Integra to his place in Verona, NJ. The traffic to the Lincoln Tunnel was murder.

We picked up some pizza and beer en route to Jay's and then watched the first game of the weekend Sox/Yankees series with Jay’s wife Kelly. I met Jay and Kelly’s doggie Maggie Mae, which is also the name of my sister’s dog. I met Kelly for the first time last year at her and Jay’s wedding in the Poconos. Jay and I got to be friends living on the same floor of our freshman dorm and were later housemates off-campus for our last three years. The Yankees made fools of the Red Sox that night. Wakefield just didn’t have it. Jay, Kelly, and I took a short trip to the nearby Eagle Rock 9/11 Memorial. I’d remembered being there years earlier, not long after the towers fell. The park offers a clear view of the Manhattan skyline. I’d seen it for the first time at night. At that time, one could clearly see the two massive spotlights that had been placed in lieu of the towers, aimed strait up. The three of us chatted for a bit and called it a night.

In the morning Jay took me to the Montclair Char-Coal Broil, a local diner. Practically every town in New Jersey has its own local diner, standard-issue. After some coffee, eggs, and bakey we toured Montclair a little and then went for a walk in Essex County Park, only a block or so from his place. We talked about film making and my newfound interest journalism. Jay is working full-bore towards a career in filmmaking. You can learn more about his production company, Junction Jump, at: http://www.junctionjump.com/ . There’s some cool stuff there. Check it fool!

Afterwards, Jay, Kelly, and I went to the Clairidge Clearview Theater to see “Once”. I was moved by the film, and impressed with how complete the movie was with its relatively little story. (A-) The film over with, I said my see-you-laters with Jay and Kelly and drove the Integra down to New Brunswick to visit with Rachel, Jay, Laura, and Jenny. Rachel, Laura, and Jenny had been good friends of mine at Rutgers. Rachel and I had been close ever since living in the same dorm our freshman year. Back then, we shared many of the same freshman biology courses. I met Laura for the first time doing my first sketch comedy shows for CAP. Laura was also a biology major, and so we had lots of classes together later on, the most memorable classes being comparative morphology and histology. Laura, Rachel, and Jenny (a several other girls) all lived together for years at a house off-campus that I visited regularly. Rebecca also lived in this house (but we’ll get to her in a second).

Rachel and her husband Jay have a cool house in Highland Park (just next to New Brunswick) chocked full of cool antique and retro furniture. Getting a tour of their house, I saw something completely unexpected and amazing. It was a microwave. Specifically, it was a microwave which my grandmother had given my parents on their wedding anniversary some 25 years ago. (It was fitting that I should see it, as the very next day was my parents 40th anniversary.) Back then, every microwave was enormous. Big enough to zap a large turkey if need be. I'd grown up with this appliance. I had taken the monster to college and then deserted it before I moved to California. Life is funny sometimes.

Jay and Rachel also have a basset hound named Lillie. This is one very cool dog. While the dog is only 4.5 years old, it acts like an old man. It mostly sleeps, but will tour the house occasionally for head patting and ear rubbing.

At my arrival to Rachel and Jay’s, I got a surprise call from Rebecca, who lives in Philadelphia. Having not seen her in six years or so, I immediately decided to pay her a visit. The trip to Maine would be delayed a day.

The group later assembled, we walked across the Route 27 bridge into New Brunswick and visited many of my favorite spots downtown for dinner and drinks. We visited the Harvest Moon, Timulty’s, Clyde’s, and then another bar who’s name I can’t seem to remember right now. We had great food, several pints of Guinness, and lots of laughter.

Walking back to Rachel and Jay’s, we found that New Brunswick was demolishing part of the Route 27 overpass. It was a strange sight, as this giant crane-type device was slamming an exaggerated pick-ax down into the pavement, making this “ca-chunk-a-chunk-a-chunk” sound. At the time we found this extremely amusing.

The next morning we all met with Chad at the Somerset Diner for breakfast. I spent a good chunk of my junior and senior years at the Somerset studying for this class or that at ungodly hours. I was a little disappointed to find that the diner has been totally remodeled on the inside. According to Chad, many New Jersey diners had chosen to remodel after a smoking ban had been put into place years ago. Still, a nice time was had by all over coffee and breakfast. After more see-you-laters, I went back to Piscataway for a shower and some quality Chad-time. Chad and Helen are missed back in California. Nuff’ said. I also managed to get in touch with my old roommate and friend Mark, who lives just outside Phili. The stars were in alignment, as he was free that night to meet up for dinner.

Now completely going in the wrong direction, I drove back down the Jersey Turnpike to Philadelphia. It was worth it. It was a joy to reconnect with Rebecca after not seeing her for so long. She lives near UPenn with her two kitties, Fuzz and Zorro. Mark and Rebecca’s beau Will joined up with us a little while later. Mark and I were roommates my freshman and sophomore years, and housemates the last two years. Mark was also an actor for the College Avenue Players. Today Mark has a precocious six-year-old daughter named Gracie and has become a well known didgeridoo player in Philadelphia. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Didgeridoo )

The four of us went to a cool restaurant called the White Dog Café. Dinner was delicious. We went to a couple other spots about Rebecca’s neighborhood afterwards for a Guinness or two before calling it a night. Before driving away, Mark played one of his didgeridoos for a minute. It sounded really cool. Deep and throaty. Unique.

That brings us to this morning. Rebecca and I had some breakfast and chatted a bit before I departed for Maine. It will not be six years before I see her again. That’s for sure.

Right off the bat I got lost. I drove the wrong direction down I-76 and, with some heavy traffic mixed in, it took me thirty minutes or so to get back on the right track. I was off to a rough start. After I crossed the Walt Whitman Bridge, the weather turned sour. Chatting with my mom, I learned that a tropical storm of some sort was sitting over much of the northeast. I trudged back up the Jersey Turnpike under heavy rain and then everything just stopped. I was approaching the George Washington Bridge when I saw a divide up ahead. One side would take me to the “Express” lane, which has no other exits in New Jersey, while the other side was the “Local.” The divide presented itself quickly as the visibility was low. In a second I decided for the “Express” lane and then immediately came to a stop. The “express” lane was completely gridlocked. A parking lot. Meanwhile, the “Local” lane was moving along at regular speed. Being already cranky after the confusion in Phili, I was downright irritated with this newest development. Discouraged, I sat in this jam for about two hours before I eventually would get to the GW.

By the time I crossed into Connecticut, five hours had gone by. I knew it would take at least another five hours to reach Maine, possibly more with the weather situation. It was only 2:30pm, or so, and I already felt weary. The car felt weary. Pretty certain that I wouldn’t be able to hack a ten+ hour trip, I stopped in New Haven and got a room.

That pretty much brings us to the present.

This last week has been amazing. Old memories are constantly swirling around my head of the times I've had with these people. I never imagined I’d be able to see so many of them in such a short time. I have reconnected with so many friends from my college years, and it has warmed my heart. I’m already looking forward to seeing them again, sooner than later.


To see all the photos to date:

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMnLVq3aN2IM

Now I just have to get to Maine. I’ve driven some 6,500 miles already to get this far, and I'm tired. I have only a few hundred miles to go before I can take it easy for a while. I’m ready to give my family in Maine a big hug, and then sleep. Deeply.

More soon.

Andy

Pete loves his mom.