Burlington Schmurlington
18/10/15 07:23
Here we are. Sitting in my favorite coffee shop in one of my favorite towns, Burlington, VT. It's a rainy day just as they forecasted. Yesterday was crystal clear back in New Hampshire so it was hard to imagine that just 24 hours later and several hundred miles to the north that rain was in the forecast. There wasn't anything unequivocal about the forecast either. It called for 100% chance of rain. Doesn't get any more certain than that. And so the morning traffic here at Starbucks is perhaps busier than usual although the universal lust for caffeine cares little for weather forecasts and depends even less on the weather to keep its followers happy. I walked here from the Vermont Hotel this morning and discovered that it was closer than I thought. No sense in spending any more time than necessary in the rain. Sooner or later everything would turn soggy so it's all good.
It's not crazy busy around me which is good. The fewer distractions the better. I'm trying very hard to get on track and find the elusive groove that I know is there for the taking if I can only get there. Sometimes it's the subject matter and sometimes it's the fodder of the day and sometimes both of those things intersect at odd angles making for a tsunami or torrent that takes on a life of its own and makes sitting down with my journal a pleasure unto itself. When it doesn't work it is nothing more than a whack job. A waste of time. A walk down the primrose path without a destination where the the flowers look and smell nice along the way but ultimately goes nowhere and has little residual b=value after the fact. Funny thing is, I never quite know which I'm going to find when I start out. It's better that way. Serendipitous almost if that makes sense.
Industry goes on around me and I'm reminded that it is a work day here in the city on the shores of Lake Champlain. The trash still needs to be collected; coffee needs to be served; stores need to open their doors; pedestrians need to find their way along the corridors of life; the homeless need to find refuge wherever possible; there is just seemingly less of everything given the persistent and cold rain falling out of doors. Had I been sitting here some 20 years ago I might see fewer laptops, fewer electronic devices, more conversation and less social isolation in general. I don't have earbuds in my ears, a laptop in front of me, or even a smart phone beside me but I am plugged in. Make no mistake about that. Nancy is back at the hotel doing what I'm not sure. I sent her a text when I arrived but she has not texted me back. I am better left to my own devices in the early morning so go off on my own and do what I do. It is coming up on 10 in the morning so I should give some thought to heading back to the hotel. I spent far too much time reading articles on my iPad before getting started here so all in all I might regret not having gotten started sooner. Then again, maybe not.
It is a pleasant rain falling out of doors really. Not heavy enough where you worry about getting drenched in the short term and not much wind to speak of that would surely be problematic were I to be outside for a longer stretch of time. And it is not so cold that even the slightest rain would add to my misery were I given to such misery. I don't think we'll make reservations at the hotel restaurant tonight even though the menu had some very appealing items on it. Nancy will likely have her sights set on some other destination and I will follow like the dutiful husband that I am. It is her preferences that matter after all these years although she is occasionally short on suggestions and is a willing partner when I have a suggestion or two. You have to know when to throw in the towel and when to take the reins and it is not a science but an art. The art of give and take; the art of nothingness.
But today is a new day. Still in Burlington and still sipping the swill in the local coffee shop. Still wanting to get something down on paper and still wondering where the day is going. I can feel that stupid breakfast sandwich sitting in my stomach even though I ate it an hour ago or more. Need to stay with the healthy choices. Yesterday, it was two hard boiled eggs and today some breakfast sandwich with egg and sausage. I thought for a moment that I might be able to strip away the bread but everything was so molten that I didn't give it a second thought. But my coffee is hot and I seem to be finding my stride at this early hour of 7 something. Nancy is back at the hotel and probably still in bed but maybe thinking about getting up and getting some exercise before we check out by noon. I say by noon instead of at noon since we're wanting to get going early on so we can get back home at a reasonable hour. There are taxes to finish and Nancy has notes to take care of for work so that's fine. I'm hoping to get home in time to take a bike ride before dark. Don't anticipate any problems doing that short of an air strike by the Russians or a problem with my bike. That sandwich is just sitting there. I can feel it. I don't like that feeling. Need to work that feeling off somehow and don't know how I do that sitting here for an extended period of time. Just don't know how I get that done.
Need to drink this coffee before it goes cold on me. And now I have a couple of weeks left to work and that's it. I'm done with that career. Moving on as it were. To what I guess we'll see. When you think of all the things a man can do with his free time it's a little overwhelming and maybe that is part of the problem. It's that whole analysis paralysis thing. Or maybe I'll just spend my spare time going fishing. Fuck this screwy world of ours. How will I function in a world without schedules, a world without oversight, a world where my days are my own and not belonging to anyone else. Don't want to get too carried away with that since I am a married man with all the normal constraints suggested or otherwise implicit in that sort of arrangement but still. You know where I'm going with all of this. Or, like me, you don't know exactly. Maybe that is what I find so alluring and at the same time terrifying. Maybe I will just do the Forrest Gump bullshit. Life is nothing more than a box of chocolates. Really? Not sure why there isn't more of a crowd here at Starbucks. It might have something to do with the fact that we're in a shopping area that doesn't open up in any meaningful way for another hour or so.
Before getting started in this here journal I was reading some article in Twitter about Bernie Sanders wife. Great. Another fucking community organizer. I'm sitting in her backyard here in Burlington Vermont even though she and her socialist husband of hers grew up in Flatbush in the Bronx. How the locals here in Vermont bought into their bullshit progressive politics all those years ago I don't know. It doesn't say anything good about the Prius driving morons in this section of the woods who elected him to Congress and, more recently, the Senate. who are all these stupid fucks? Do they really hate the establishment that much that they would look to destroy the very system that allows them to feed the poor and house their sorry asses in housing that they could never otherwise afford given their natural predilection for feeding at the public trough? They want to be one with the privileged classes and hope that the morons that attend their rallies and cheer them on will pick up the freight at the end of the day. I can't say that it won't or can't happen since Obama has proven me wrong on two separate occasions going back to 2008. Don't get me going.
The music plays on here in my tiny little corner of the coffee shop and the good folks of Burlington and beyond filter in while I type away and ignore the lot of them. The sun is out today and I would say unequivocally that it is a welcome sight. It was a drab rainy and overcast day yesterday and today not so much. I will be sorry to leave this nub of the woods. It has allowed me to get away, get a much needed change of scenery, time to think about other things. Time to write and let my imagination wander. Time to forget little and not-so-little things back at home. People outside the shop here are walking their dogs, drinking their morning coffee, wearing shorts and hoodies not wanting to let go of the summer days yet embracing the fall season as crisp, delightful, and decadent as it can be here in Burlington, Vermont. I even had a Macintosh apple the other day which I actually enjoyed and I am not much of a fan of the Macintosh apple. I'm more of a Mutsu man which is a cross between a granny smith and and golden delicious apple. Yes, I want to get grab a few of those before the season comes to an end. They are at their best after the first frost and I'm not sure we've been there yet. I say that with a snicker since I was reading last night about snow falling in the White Mountains just south of here an hour or two. I was also looking at real estate on Lake Champlain on the web as I lie in bed in the dark just before 6 this morning. File that under "one never knows."
I'm feeling constrained this morning not so much by time or things to say but rather by my physical ability to pound away at this here keyboard for an extended period of time. I'm wondering if things would be any better were I able to go to all the restaurants, all the shops, and visit all the off the beaten path type joints hereabouts. Would I feel any better if I'd seen it all and had little or no desire to revisit one or more of the places ever again. Would I want to come here again? Is it all about conquering and experiencing the satisfaction of conquering or is there more to it? Maybe it's the vibe, the soul of the place, the rhythms you achieve that make it seem so real and worthwhile. It's not the people since I never speak to any of them. Why bother. I'm in my own little world and I like it just fine. Ask me if I feel the same way in another 10 minutes and I might have a very different answer for you. Get yourself some direction, Johnny boy. A man needs a purpose and you off all people need a purpose. It's true.
So I look forward to reinventing myself and we'll see where that takes us. Hopefully, to Burlington and beyond. Where are all the cheerleaders when I need them? Someone or other to egg me on. Someone to redirect my energies when they flail or to support me when I need that or more. Like the child climbing on the rock just outside the window here in Starbucks, I need to know that I can slide down the rock until my feet touch even though I don't know how far that is or how much pain I might have to endure just to find out if it's possible. And then your feet are on the ground and the world has not come to an end. You are reminded of that saying, all is well that ends well and you start looking around you for other rocks, bigger rocks, steeper rocks, more jagged rocks, rocks you can't get a grip on, and then you know that all things are possible.
Lake George Vacation 2015
13/September/2015 07:06 AM
Tuesday, the day after labor day 2015. I'm sitting here in Starbucks having a nice hot cup of coffee. Really need it. I stayed up a bit later than usual last night watching Netflix on m pad. Couldn't get the tv to work no matter which buttons I pressed. It wouldn't have been so bad had I not been alone at the place at the lake. Nancy went home yesterday to pick up Evan and bring him back to the lake after his class at Great Bay. I might have gone with her but he came down with a little something so it will be a full court press to get him back to the lake house within 24 hours. I'm not convinced that he wants to come up but I could be wrong. Nancy was willing to make the trip alone so that was that. I called her once she arrived and the trip had gone well. There had been no unexpected surprises and the traffic was not a problem. You know how Labor Day weekends go sometimes. Anyway, good to know she was home safely.
Nancy's sister, Debbie, and her boyfriend Willie, arrived on Sunday and left on Monday around noon or a bit after. We took in the usual sights including Sandy Bay, San Souci, and the sights and sounds of Lake George Village. There is a story to be told for each of those destinations so maybe I'll get there here today and maybe I won't. Suffice it to say that the water was fine, the spots in Sandy Bay elusive but available, the food at San Souci was not bad at all, and the village came with its own surprises. The biggest surprise there was the number of people cruising the streets and the ethnic and racial diversity of same. I was telling Rollie that the crowds of days past were 85% Canadian and 15% Warrensburg and those days are gone. As long as we continue to have a lawless president in the White House who insists on open borders and the purge of Christians we will be at risk for losing the heart and soul of our nation.
After sitting in the boat for a while on Sandy Bay and watching Nancy and her sister, Debbie, swim off towards the shore I decided it was time for me to go in as well and I left Willie to his own devices. A woman bumping around the bay in a kayak approached Willie when the three of us were off galavanting near the shore and asked if he was Woody (aka Rollie.) Too funny. Can't remember how that conversation went but Willie told it in a way that made us all laugh. I think the woman heard what Willie said about not being Rollie, knew in her heart that the man who said he wasn't Rollie was surely sitting in Rollie's boat, and decided to call him on it. "That's Rollie's boat", she said matter of factly. Maybe she gave up after that. Maybe she thought she had said enough but not too much and that it was a good time to end the conversation. She may have paddled off looking once or maybe twice over her shoulder not comfortable with how the conversation ended and the best course of action was to put as much distance between her and the man in Rollie's boat who said he wasn't Rollie as possible.
He didn't look like the kind of man who would follow her but she wasn't taking any chances. The bay was choking with activity and an unlikely place as one can imagine for a criminal act but she knew all too well that there were plenty of ways to die when and where nobody would be the wiser. If the man who said he wasn't Rollie was in fact not Rollie, but driving Rollie's boat, then he was certainly capable of much much more. Nothing sinister necessarily but she wasn't taking any chances. We never saw the woman Wille referred too so didn't know what had become of her. His descriptions were vague but not alarmingly so. We had no reason to be suspicious so laughed aloud when he told us the story in no more than two or three sentences. Two or three well thought out and crafted sentences that is retrospect ended too abruptly. It was laughter intended to deceive and we fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I thought to myself that it could have just as easily been me who had that conversation and maybe it ended well and maybe it didn't. Unlike Willie, I would have kept the encounter to myself. No need to leave a trail of any kind to raise suspicions when and where the specter of possible crime was involved. Drownings are all too common in this lake and they nearly go unreported except that they serve as a reminder to visitors near and far that the lake, while benevolent in its beauty and attraction, has a history of taking lives. One can never be too careful so it is best not to ask too many questions of people you think you know driving boats that as far as you know don't belong to them.
We had a nice ride on the lake heading north out of Sandy Bay with Elizabeth Island as our destination and kept going once we arrived at the island. The water was as choppy as it gets this time of the year with a roughness created by the horrendous cross currents of waves in the widest part of the lake that were akin to what they refer to as a perfect storm in North Atlantic lore. The winds were blowing out of the south enough to stiffen a flag but without the oomph to create white caps in the widest section of the lake. It was a sunny warm afternoon and the drone of the boat engine was ever present as we pushed past Camp Chingacook and points north where camps along the shoreline disappeared and vast sections of the Adirondack reserve rose thousands of feet from shore to mountain top. When we had had enough of dodging rogue waves we turned southward once again and hugged the coastline where the waters were less chaotic. Once back at the camp and after docking we noticed a slick of sorts forming at the rear of the boat. It took a while to sort out but by the time the next morning rolled around we were all feeling a little better about something that ended up, we think, being far less serious than maybe it could have been.
San Souci was busy as expected but we drove there nonetheless hoping against hope that we would both find a place to park and something of our liking to eat. Parking was the bigger of the two hurdles but a space opened up the minute we arrived and not a minute too soon since we were joined by others who we saw milling about outside the restaurant as we arrived. I was surprised that the restaurant was not busier and I think a little surprised that it was as noisy as it was for the few parties that were seated when we walked in. We had no problems finding something to eat both on the menu and on the specials board so ordered as quickly as possible so as to not to lose our seemingly positive momentum. It helped that our waitress was both attentive and easy on the eyes. She was equally vivacious and she may have notched our collective energies up just enough to get us past the noise and other distractions in what was probably standard fare at this long standing neighborhood haunt. And Nancy, true to form, took a liking to my coffee drink and despite my moving it here and there around the table to get it out of her line of sight she found it every time and sipped away at her hearts content. I rationalize times like this by telling myself that were I to drink the beverage as ordered that I would be perhaps unable or unwilling to drive having consumed far more alcohol than is usual for me. Far more indeed.
Rollie joined us on Monday and we looked at his boat together so that was good. After Debbie and Willie had left he stayed the afternoon and we chatted about everything under the sun. He played a tape recording that my father had made of a conversation he and I had in 1990. Did I know he was recording that conversation? It was benign as conversations go but funny nonetheless to hear my 1990 voice and perhaps more interestingly to hear my dad's voice again. It was really nice to hear his voice. God, Rollie and I kicked around a lot of things. That boy has a history floating around in his head that he really ought to get down on paper when he has a spare moment. I think our sister Kathy has a good recollection of things as well but her recollections are occasionally suspect and maybe even self serving from time to time. Memories fade but memories twisted and contorted to serve their masters desires and dreams live on as though etched in cement for eternity. I'm one to talk. I write it all down, well almost all of it, and put my own spin on events when and where the normal flow of events don't suit me. In other words, I make it up as I go along. Rollie and I talked a lot about uncle Karl as well and his relationship with dad which was nonexistent toward the end of Karl's life according to Rollie. As one might expect, the bad blood arose out of the supposed mismanagement of money and perhaps even a lawsuit about same. You just can't make this stuff up!
I keep putting this down and picking it up again. Can't remember what I've written and maybe don't care. Maybe I'll say it again but differently the second time around. I have to say that driving the 350Z that Rollie let me have for the week has been a little weird. It has an altogether different vibe that takes some getting used to. It isn't so much about how I feel driving it because you know that is going to be different compared to driving my 2000 Volvo station wagon. More noticeable than that is how other drivers respond when they come up on me in traffic, on the highway, etc. Just yesterday, for example, I was tooling down the road minding my own business (tell me if you've heard this story before) and I noticed that the vehicle behind me was tailing me in an odd sort of way. They were a little closer than they should have been and it wasn't any coincidence that they looked to be younger drivers. The fact that I could tell at all was not a good thing. It felt aggressive and testosterone driven. Responding in kind would have been irresponsible and reckless and I was not in any hurry to facilitate or otherwise encourage that sort of train wreck. True to form, they waited until we had rounded the bend and passed me with room to spare on the straightaway. I was happy to let them have their moment but the fact of the matter is that this never would have happened in my other more staid vehicle. I don't know if I want that kind of responsibility. Something to think about.
Looks like another nice day on the lake her in Lake George. Nancy and Evan arrived last night a little after 9. I'm glad they made the trip. Nancy drove home on Monday to pick up Evan after his class at Great Bay on Tuesday morning and promised a hasty return. The class never worked out, Evan was down and out with some asthma related illness, and they had a late day doctors appointment to make before getting on the road. They survived all of that and made the long trip back here despite the fact that Nancy was not keen on making any portion of the drive in the dark. It was unavoidable of course but she was clearly in the home stretch by the time darkness fell so perhaps not an issue. She looked none the worse for wear upon her arrival and Evan seemed better than I expected which was good. He coughed a couple of times as he got out of the car and mostly for effect I think. I stopped by Dirty John's earlier in the evening and bought three dogs for Evan which I microwaved when he arrived. I had a nice greek salad with chicken which I enjoyed when I sat down to have dinner well before their arrival. I spent a while tidying up the kitchen so that everything was in its proper place by the time Nancy and Evan arrived and all was well with the world. It was not an overly cool evening but neither was it oppressively warm and it is now just 69 degrees but is expected to reach the low 80's by late this afternoon. Just what the doctor ordered.
I always feel good when I stick to my usual biking routines while on vacation. There is something about just getting on the bike and doing it and maybe getting it behind you that resonates with me. Not doing it is akin to carrying unnecessary baggage so better to get it done. I'd like to say that is has something to do with the endorphin fix that athletes get when getting in a particular zone but I'm not sure that applies to me. Then again, I do think that I am a bit of a daredevil here and there and I take chances that others might consider risky. I think I like living on edge truth be told. So, it has less to do with endorphins and more to do with the thrill of taking chances. Speeding down hills at a breakneck pace with faulty brakes; not looking twice before crossing lanes with crushing and unpredictable traffic patterns; pushing myself up impossibly steep and elongated inclines until my heart is jumping out of my chest; and smirking to myself when drivers on the road, surprised by my crazy antics, lay on the horn with irritation and surprise. People do funny things when reacting to the unexpected. I would have been a formidable candidate with a rap sheet for a resume' had I sought employment as a bicycle courier in an inner city like Boston or New York. I would ride with the best of them and better than most. Don't know where that comes from. I always thought it had something to do with being more competitive than most but am rethinking that now. I fear it is something infinitely more sinister. We need not go there now.
I can hear the family stirring. This house if nothing if not a collection of wood aged and assembled with love and care. Every step taken by one or more of its occupants reveals direction, presence, and sometimes even resistance. The wooden floors creak with annoyance and thunder with a premeditated allowance for tomfoolery as traffic passes from room to room and in and out of the house over the course of the day. Wood used in the construction of this home on the lake still retains its original character and shape and each room has a different story to tell. The patterns of wood when laid down collide in unnatural ways but feel natural underfoot and provide just the right acoustics for voices heard and unheard. Waves caused by passing boats of varying sizes and shapes wash ashore just feet away from the front of the home resonating with a sound eerily like applause and carry through the house channeled by the open doorways. It is easy to take these sounds for granted. They are ever present and easily assimilate into ones comings and goings. Maybe this is what happens when the house welcomes back old friends and those who would protect and preserve it for future generations. Maybe it isn't applause at all. It is the collective sigh of a home with a soul coexisting in a harsh but otherwise loving environment.
What a difference a day makes. The high here today on the lake, if you consider it a high, is 71 degrees. The only good thing about 71 degrees is that it makes drinking my coffee that much more pleasurable. This is a far cry from the high temperatures of the last day or two which felt somewhat oppressive but perhaps less so here on the lake where the flow of air is constant and cooling. And, I think these cooler temperatures might be better all around for our biking activities wherever that takes us today. And, taking the family for a ride in the 350Z with the top down while overcast is preferable to doing that under cloudless skies. The sun can be overbearing and relentless sometimes and it gets to be too much. It is surprising to think as well that we've been here since Sunday and we have only been out in the boat once and that was four days ago as I sit here on the screened in porch overlooking the lake on a very overcast and cool Thursday morning. Granted, Evan has only been here since yesterday but it seems we found other things to do yesterday so we did not do any boating. And what about Saratoga? It is true that what I usually do when we visit that lovely town is to camp out in the local Starbucks with my iPad while Nancy goes shopping. I'm down (good) with that.
Outside this idyllic encampment, the world continues on it's merry or not so merry way. Financial markets around the world are topsy turvy as ever and feeling the pain of decelerating commodity values and devalued asset classes no longer buoyed by long stretches of quantitative easing; Ted Cruz and Donald Trump, two of the top tier presidential candidates for 2016, held a rally on the steps of the US capitol yesterday calling for the defeat of the process that will invariably give Iran the means to build a nuclear arsenal and further imperil the state of Israel and those who have opposed them over the years including the United States; Hundreds of thousands of Syrians are fleeing that war torn country while adjoining countries build walls and fortify their borders to keep their own populations and cultures from imploding under the collective weight of this immigration nightmare; Apple announced new versions of their Apple TV, the iPhone 6, the iPad Pro and the markets responded in ho-hum fashion by sending their stock down another 2 percent; Gas prices have come down and now average around $2.30 a gallon as crude oil seemingly bottoms out at around $42 a barrel; Hillary Clinton remains the likely nominee for her party but the coronation is on hold while the party gnashes their teeth over her plummeting poll numbers when it comes to trustworthy-ness and honesty - in the meantime, Joe Biden contemplates getting into the race and would likely quash yet another Clinton run at the highest office in the land; The impeachment of Obama is imminent and his collaboration with the Muslim brother hood and his alliances with countries and ideologies that call for the defeat of our great country run counter to the oath of office he took as he placed his hand on the Quran while repeating the oath. These laws, once broken, are punishable by death.
It was a good vacation on the lake this year by all accounts. We had just the right mix of weather, friends and family, and exercise. Next year maybe we'll stay longer than the one week we usually plan for. With any luck that will give us more time to see and spend time with family, more opportunity to do the things we like to do, and more time to enjoy the lake. I should like to revisit the new coffee joint in downtown Glens Falls and have another cup of their delicious java. And no, they don't have a coffee of the day. I'll have to remember that before bellying up the counter and making a fool of myself by asking such a question. They probably thought to themselves, what rock has this bozo been living under? Maybe he would prefer something from Dunkin Donuts, or worse if there is such a thing. Honey Bee Donuts maybe? And, we don't have a fucking drive in window so don't ask.
We never did get over to the cemetery so I regret not getting around to that. Rollie wanted to take a minute to go there on our last day at the lake and we had that conversation while we were sitting in our car packed up and ready for the long trip home in New Way Lunch's parking lot. It was too late and our long trip home ;ay ahead of us so we were not wanting to be unduly delayed or distracted from our task at hand. Fact of the matter is, ain't nobody over there at the cemetary going anywhere any time soon so our visit can wait. We also never got over to Lake George Village while the car show was in town. We we're close when doing the biking trail and the skies were overcast so it was perfect for picture taking but we just didn't do it. Never saw Lise or Kathy either despite our best intentions to do just that. We spent a bit of time with Denise not long ago so had no plans to get together with her other than the plans we usually have while in the are which is to take the sisters out for lunch or dinner. Also never saw Rollie's family but spent time with Rollie so was not completely in the dark on matters involving Terri and Carli. Neither did they see Evan so that was that.
Thanks to everyone who made this vacation possible, with a special thanks to Rollie for providing both a boat and a car which proved invaluable (and fun!) while Nancy was was away in New Hampshire picking up Evan.
Idle Thoughts
15/August/2015 07:15 AM
…Listening to Amy Winehouse unplugged. Been up for a while this morning. Since the crack of dawn really. Turned over in bed while it was still dark and a little after 4:30 in the morning. Grabbed my iPad and started reading the latest twitter feed. What is all of this business about entire populations fleeing war torn countries and inundating Europe arriving day after day by the thousands? And then I'm reading somewhere yesterday that our government is shipping refugees from Somalia, Ghana, and other hellholes on this planet to the fine state of North Dakota. And where did I read that in New York or California, or maybe this was in Massachusetts that they are creating all Spanish speaking classrooms for the illegal aliens that continue to turn up in numbers unparalleled in recent history thanks to the immigration policies of our commander-in-chief, Barry Obama. In the upcoming election I'm voting for the first republican candidate who promises to overturn every one of Barry's illegal executive orders. If he or she promises to prosecute Barry and his entourage of criminals occupying our white house I might even vote twice for that candidate.
Just call me Mr. Compassion.
Back in the Hood
14/August/2015 08:13 AM
As a postscript to an otherwise terrific trip up through Stowe, Vt, and then on to Burlington, and then down through Middlebury, Vt where we hooked up with Denise for a little lunch, I would say it went well. The weather cooperated, the hotels were accommodating, we could have done a better job making reservations around the Burlington leg of the trip, there were no shortage of decent places to grab a bite to eat, and I could always find a Starbucks when I needed one. That is to say, my itinerary always includes spending time writing in my journal (blog) in the early morning and my favorite haunt and place to write is Starbucks. The good news is that seldom do I find myself in a spot where there is not a Starbucks or, at a minimum, a place that comes off as a Starbucks wanna be. That means a place where the coffee is pitch black, seating is accommodating, and some kind of music playing in the background always helps.
Lunch with Denise came out of the blue. In other words, it was not planned. I think it was Nancy who said something about being in Middlebury around lunchtime as we were heading south through Vt. Putting two and two together, we gave Denise a ring and, voila, she answered. She met us in downtown Middlebury shortly before the noon hour where there were any number of places to grab lunch and after stopping in a place or two we ended up with a recommendation to yet one more place which is where we ended up. It was one of those order at the counter and take your food to an empty table kind of places. The three of us had salads and Saratoga spring waters to drink. We sat under a canopy of sorts outside the shop and enjoyed some very pleasant conversation about this and that. It was about family mostly and it was good to hear all was going well with everyone. We talked a bit about our upcoming trip to the lake as well and I should have talked to Denise about getting together with the sisters for dinner sometime during the week but forgot to mention it. I'll try to follow up with her on same. Maybe making dinner at the camp is a better idea? What would I make? Would I have to please everybody? Maybe we can make it a pot luck sort of thing.
It's fun having a week off. Yes, indeed. A week to do whatever I or we please within reason. Not sure what that means but it feels right saying it. I really should have created a to-do list. I wanted to wash some windows, do a little maintenance on the snow blower, run the generator, etc., but I've not worried about not getting to those things. And now that the week is coming to an end, and I still have three days before I return to work, the monkeys are off my back and I can do whatever I damn well please. If I want to go for a bike ride instead, and I surely do and will once I finish writing in this here blog, I will do just that. Nancy has gone off to her cycling class so I am on my own and sometimes prefer that when riding. I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder to see where she is and then worrying when I don't see her. Did she get a flat? Maybe she fell after running over or into something. Maybe a car clipped her or ran her off onto the side of the road and she is sitting there with bent rims and hurt feelings. You just don't know so can't assume anything. Of course, I never tell her I prefer riding alone. How do you think that would make her feel? Off I go then before I lose the window I'm wanting to take advantage of. Before the sun gets too high in the sky, the crowds along my path too dense and too boisterous, and the winds picking up as they do here along the coast come midday.
Burlington by way of Stowe VT
09/August/2015 07:22 AM
Buenos dias, laddies. It's a fine morning here in Stow VT. Kick ass, really. Don't know about this coffee joint but it sure helps to have some caffeine. It was Nancy's idea to come to Stow but I'm good with going to places we've never been before. It's small, quaint, and well, as they say maybe a little to often here in Vermont, bucolic. Oh, and it's foggy. We're hoping to get some biking in today before the day gets too long in the tooth so I'm looking forward to that. I was a little disappointed that they only had egg sandwiches in this place. I was hoping for some quiche. Yes, a real manly breakfast. Just trying to stay away from the bread. I think gluten may not be the friend I was looking for all these years. The more I hear about people trying to avoid it it makes me wonder if it isn't something worth avoiding. And there are those days you are just looking to put something in your stomach. This might be one of those days. Nonetheless, I'll stay away from the bread given half a chance.
People are filing into this place at a pretty good clip now as the hour gets closer to 8. The village is waking up I guess. Where are all the farmers? The fisherman? The breakfast cooks? The beauticians? And, where are all the fucking Vietnamese nail buffers? I may be two cups of coffee into my morning before I start seeing them. I'm wondering about this trail we're supposed to be riding on today too. Is it too long? Is it long enough? Is it too busy? Does it overlook anything of interest? Will I get a flat tire? Stay positive, Johnny. The day is long and it is all in front of you. Better than that, and honest to god let's get with the program, your week is ahead of you. You have no meetings and no conference calls. No taking your laptop into the nearest huddle room to catch a tier two anything. I love the people but the process is tedious. So, I put all of that behind me this week and I get to think about things I want to think about. World hunger; trading derivatives; world markets; books I have but haven't yet read; music that hasn't been written; Paths that haven't been travelled; fishing spots that haven't been fished; am I forgetting anything?
This is such a nice little spot. I'm seated at a window table, one of two in this place, and I'm left wondering when Starbucks is coming to town and just how long this place will stay in business once that happens. Looking out over the town from my seat, the fog is burning off slowly revealing more and more of the distant pastures with every sip of my coffee. I think all of the fog may yet burn off and it could be a steamy day. That's okay, right? I mean, does it really matter? I'm not one to obsess about such things when alternatives abound. There are 81 restaurants in Stowe. Who knew. Just walking to this coffee shop I think I passed 5 of them. Where the fuck are all the rest? Turns out we ate at one of the best last night. Oh, and you're a bloody restaurant critic now, are you? All I would say is that while we had a moments hesitation when we were told that they couldn't accommodate us without a reservation we got over ourselves fairly quickly and took a seat at the mahogany horseshoe shaped bar where we decided that it was someplace we could probably eat and be okay with it.
I ordered steamed mussels in some kind of cream sauce served with a hot roll and topped with some kind of gritty concoction which is hard to describe but was quite good. Sometimes you're just thankful that food that should be served hot is served as advertised and this was. The bar itself was in the basement of a building in downtown Stowe but looked like it had been a bar for well over a hundred years and maybe more. Seating and spacing was not generous by any stretch of the imagination but that may have been part and parcel the pubs allure. It was a small space and you couldn't navigate the aisles without turning one or more parts of your body to the side or stopping altogether to let someone to pass. I order a stir fry as well and hoped for less rice and or pasta and more vegetables. The serving size was surprisingly small but sufficient nonetheless and I was satisfied that I had ordered the right dish. Nancy ordered shrimp tacos and the shrimp were halved and braised on one side and very flavorful. I'm not a big fan of fish, shrimp, or other types of tacos but I had one shrimp off her plate and took what she didn't eat back to the hotel for a snack later that evening. We both ordered drinks and were both fairly intoxicated and unsteady on our feet after having just one beverage. As we got up to leave, the stairs leading up and out of the place seemed steeper than we remembered them coming in. Thank god for handrails.
I've seen and heard a few cars going through town that sported very loud mufflers. Either the rules around here when it comes to this sort of thing are extremely lax or there are more than a few vehicles that will more than likely not pass inspection when the time comes. And the locals? An earthy bunch to be sure. You can tell by the way they dress. Birkenstocks and bell bottoms. And the music? It's a throw back from the 70's wherever you go. Were it not for certain things in and about town I would say that this is a town that has been forgotten by time. Don't get me wrong. I like Creedence Clearwater, Led Zeppelin, and others from back in the 70's. And this watering hole, as I understand it, is an extremely popular place to frequent especially in the winter. It is a veritable skiers paradise and most of the growth over the last number of years has been due to that interest. Not entirely a bad thing I suppose. It is, no doubt, a small price to pay in order to survive the winter months in this mountain enclave.
I don't know that we'll be getting our bike ride in today due to the rain. It's not raining hard but it is raining so Nancy may not want to go. I would go but certainly not if it starts raining any harder than it is now. I'm looking out the window here at the cafe and see umbrellas and windshield wipers so that should tell you something. In a way, taking biking off the table frees up time from our schedule to do other things before we check out so I think I'm ok with the rain. I might like to stay here at my little table near the window and put a bit more down on "paper." Maybe not. Maybe I just want to sit down and have a leisurely breakfast, an omelet or something. Maybe I just want to sip my coffee rather than chugging it just to move the day along. Vacations mean slowing down, not speeding up. When your destination is the town that time forgot you should take note and live in the moment no matter how long that moment takes.
It was good that we took the car last night and drove on the highway leading out of town in an effort to find a place to have dinner. It felt good to be in the car again for some odd reason. It felt good to roll down the windows and let the air circulate around us cooling things down and putting a stop to the humidity that was ever present but not overly oppressive. It just kind of wears you down so better to change things up and that is what we did. I think Nancy was a little tired from all of her kicking around town and as much as she enjoyed doing what she was doing it was good for her to change it up as well. We pulled in to a parking lot at a restaurant called "The Bench" where we got the last parking spot. We took that as a good sign. The more popular the place, the better the food and drink, the livelier the atmosphere, the better. Right?
That turned out to be true for the most part. The place was spacious and as bustling as the parking situation suggested and we were promptly seated at a pleasant table in a corner where the light was nice, the view was good from at least one of the seats (Nancy's), and our waitress was efficient but not overly self effacing. It was one of those places built around a wood burning oven and most but not all items on the menu were pizza related. Or, do they call it flatbread these days. I ordered the mussels and they too were cooked in the oven. The mussels were served in a small cast iron skillet and came steeped in a tomato based broth that reminded me a little bit of spaghetti sauce. While that didn't thrill me I could have just as easily had the sauce on pasta and would have found that to be acceptable meal. There were just enough mussels to satisfy me before the main course was served so I was happy, how do they say, as a clam. Nancy did not get an appetizer and she is not a fan of mussels so sharing was not necessary. We sipped our soda waters till the entrees were served and had a jolly good time taking in the sights and enjoying our time together. When the salads arrived, hers topped with chicken and mine with ahi tuna, we busied ourselves with the task at hand. All in all, a decent meal with only a minor indiscretion here and there which we happily ignored. Who serves salads without tomatoes?
We told Evan that we might be coming home a day earlier when talking to him on the phone last night. He was not pleased. We were just jawboning about going to Burlington or not going to Burlington depending on the weather and that was one of the options. Who wants to go to Burlington if the rain keeps us from enjoying the sights and sounds of one of our favorite destinations? Nancy was certainly not deterred and as I sit here this morning I'm thinking as well that rain or no rain going to Burlington was not a bad idea. We're taking this trip as a dry run to a larger trip coming soon so we might as well take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, what would we be doing at home in the rain that we can't do just as easily in Burlington?
One of the comments we saw in trip advisor, as it relates to this watering hole of a town, is that flies are a problem. Not sure what that is all about but I can tell you firsthand that we've seen them here and about town from the moment we stepped into town. We've not stayed at outdoor cafes just to avoid them. Even here at the cafe, at the early hour of 7, I was seated for no more than a minute when I had a little visitor. Just go away! We're not talking about those big bad boys or even green heads whose bites can stop you in your tracks. These are common, everyday, houseflies or so it seems. Maybe they are the kinds of flies that morph out of decay and hint of morbidity and death. A harbinger of things to come. If we're seeing them it may well be too late for us. All we can do is swat them away and hope that wherever we go that they do not follow. They are pesky little fucks so worth mentioning. Not that anyone cares or can do anything about it.
I can hear people ordering at the counter, children crying out for their parents attention, the clatter of cups and the shuffling of feet, the jostling of chairs, and the constant but pleasant banter offered by the staff as their patrons file in and out of the cafe. The door behinds me opens and closes quietly but with a telltale creek probably not worthy of someones attention. My nose is squarely to the grindstone and my head is buzzing with thoughts that may or may not ever become clear enough to get down for posterity. There is a small child seated at a nearby table. She is cute as a button and she sits quietly. Whether she is amused, bewildered, astonished, or none of those things I'll never know. She is caught up in the moment as perhaps any other child her age and that may be for the better. Her parents, I'm sure thankfully, need not cajole, mollify, or even pay attention to her in her moment of peace. Her sweet unintelligible voice fills the air from time to time reminding her caretakers that she occupies space in the universe just as they do and that she is just as if not more important than they are. She is the future after all and that has become lost in the momentous rhythms of their collective family existence. They would do well to pay her the attention she deserves for chances like this are fleeting at best. There will, no doubt, be others but none as opportune as this. Just ask her, she'll tell you.
My coffee is getting cold but that is not unexpected so I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I don't or can't. I'm wanting all of the "hands up,don't shoot" crowd in Ferguson to go away or get locked up. Grievances my ass. Get a fucking job and get off the streets. If you don't obey the cops then you go to jail. It's as simple as that. And will someone please tell Obama that the Iran deal is off the table and there will be no deal? That asshole can't get out of office fast enough for me. And yes, we want to defund Planned Parenthood and sanctuary cities since there is a rule of law and without a rule of law we're doomed as a society. Obama's reign has given rise to candidates like Trump who are no more suited to sit in the White House than its present occupant. I was awake at 4 this morning reading about Governor Mike Pence who signed a bill into law requiring that aborted fetuses deserve to be treated with dignity and respect and will forthwith be either buried or cremated once aborted. They will no longer be sold for their body parts or washed down drains by the Planned Parenthoods of the world. If you can't outlaw the very act of abortion you can at the very least provide a modicum of dignity and respect for its victims. This very subject is saddening and the rain outside is falling with greater intensity now making the world outside my own little sanctuary here in the coffee shop seem dark and foreboding.
Burlington is everything we thought it would be and more. We were here many years ago but some things never change. It is a beautiful little town that sits on the edge of Lake Champlain and is by and large a college town. Maybe tourism comes in a close second. Not sure. We hemmed and we hawed before making our way north and hour or so from Stowe due to the weather but those fears were largely allayed when the rain stopped and the skies cleared by the time we arrived in town. We knew a couple of things. We knew we wanted to grab a bite to eat and we knew we wanted to get out of the car and walk around town a bit if for no other reason than to get reacquainted with an old haunt. Well, a haunt in the sense that it was a favorite destination even though we've only been there but a handful of times. On one occasion, in fact, we drove several hours north to Burlington so we could catch a ferry to New York where we then traveled south until we ended up in Lake George. Talk about haunts. Someone recently referred to Lake George as my happy place. I had to think about that for a moment but it is, in fact, true. It also happens to be where I grew up.
We also knew we wanted to see the movie or documentary of Amy Winehouse's life so we set sail on that particular course. We made the mistake of not making hotel reservations in town so had to travel south a few miles before we could find what we considered to be suitable accommodations. You would be surprised at how flexible your requirements become when the sun sets and you are tired after a long day of activities. Had it not been for plans we made to see the movie later that evening, and our desire to see the documentary after blowing off a number of opportunities back in New Hampshire, we might well have driven the 3-4 hours it was going to take to get back home. I was up to the drive and getting a little tired of all of the nonsense we ran into while looking for a place for the night. How is it that every time we got on the phone with someone to ask about reservations we ended up talking a person in Southeast Asia who couldn't understand us when said the word "Burlington." That's "B" as in boy. They were quite clear about there being no availability so that was a good thing. Time to get off the phone and continue our search. Thanks for nothing.
We had lunch at Mirabelle's in Burlington. Maybe I order chef salads because of the variability in how they are assembled. Maybe I like them because they combine salad with a bunch of other things that pass for protein and protein is a good thing. Only four dressings on the menu? What is that all about? I opted for the sesame ginger because everything else seem to have a cream base and I was wanting to do without something creamy and glutenous. The cafe was lively with families, couples, students, professors and the like. There were a couple of fuddy duddies sitting within earshot of us reading their students papers off their cell phones and comparing notes as though they were the only patrons in the place. A big mistake in my humble opinion. What if I recognized my son's writing and heard them saying nasty things about his writing style or, worse yet, his ability to complete a sentence using the english language. How intolerant would I be? Would I let on that I thought he was a nitwit and that commenting on someone's writing in a public place was an asinine thing to do? Who knows.
Nancy, for whatever reason, had a more resilient memory of the things we did back in Burlington back in the day. She kept asking me if I remembered this or remembered that and I kept drawing blanks. Some things I remembered very well but other things not so much. I was a little surprised at the things she remembered and wondered if I should have retained the same memories or were these things she experienced and I did not? Worse yet, were these things that the two of us experienced and now only one of us remembers? I do think that there is such a thing as retaining things that have no value and I would dismiss that as time not well spent. I would go so far as to say that I would make an extra effort to not do that and would encourage anyone who is willing to listen to do the same thing. Maybe I should take more pictures and I could refer to them under the cover of darkness the next time she asks down the road. I thought for a moment that I might make something up just to stump her so I wasn't the only one experiencing pre-alzheimers. Thank god for GPS is all I have to say. What I forget, it remembers. Or, it figures it out while I'm still scratching my chinny-chin-chin.
I was so trying to be good last night when we waltzed into the city market after the show around 10:30 and for the most part I succeeded. I wanted to avoid eating garbage before bedtime but thought that something, a small something, a snack of miniscule proportions might be just what the doctor ordered. The place was a busy even at the late hour of 10:30 and I went with the hustle bustle and allowed it take me where it would until I found myself in a good place. I avoided the pastries, the quick meals packaged for folks on the go, the ten-piece sushi dishes that would have been fine were it not for the rice that I wanted to avoid, and frozen food section which was for people more patient than I and with infinitely more time on their hands.
It was raining quite hard when we left the theater but it had stopped by the time we reached the market that was close by. I managed to have a slightly soggy shirt which quickly chilled when I entered the market. I felt almost hypothermic and sought out the warm exhaust emanating from one or more of the refrigeration chests where I took refuge for seconds at a time while considering my next move. Nancy was well on her way to other areas in the store and had left me to my own devices which was fine. I just needed to get over myself and get on with the task at hand. My final selections were reasonable ones. I grabbed a small take-out container of both hummus and egg salad and consumed both in section of the store set aside for folks wanting to have a bite to eat before leaving the store. I bought a container of peanut butter to take home and thought long and hard about where I might be keeping it once at home given Evan's peanut allergy.
I am preoccupied this vacation with all things market related. We're talking about the financial markets and not food markets for a change. Two of my favorite subjects truth be told. I understand the underpinnings of neither particularly well but both are all consuming and of intense interest to me. I wish I knew more about the financial side of things and wonder whether I will ever grasp even the basics or anything more than watching things go up and down day in and day out. That is an oversimplification to be sure but when I hear and see things about currency devaluations and derivatives it confuses me and at the same time challenges me to better understand what it all means. I want to be in the trenches with the big boys; in the trading pits surrounded by ticker tape and pencil necked geeks with asian surnames. That's not a slight against Asians; it is a truism that they are better equipped and better educated in the ways of such things so who do you want on your team at the end of the day? That, my friend, is a rhetorical question. And where do you start to get the kind of education you need to do battle in the pits? Soon, I will have the kind of time I need to answer such questions so not to worry. I will go into the fray with my eyes wide open and that will be that. I can only hope that this will all be for the better but I think time will be the final judge. And so it goes. Hopefully.
It's not crazy busy around me which is good. The fewer distractions the better. I'm trying very hard to get on track and find the elusive groove that I know is there for the taking if I can only get there. Sometimes it's the subject matter and sometimes it's the fodder of the day and sometimes both of those things intersect at odd angles making for a tsunami or torrent that takes on a life of its own and makes sitting down with my journal a pleasure unto itself. When it doesn't work it is nothing more than a whack job. A waste of time. A walk down the primrose path without a destination where the the flowers look and smell nice along the way but ultimately goes nowhere and has little residual b=value after the fact. Funny thing is, I never quite know which I'm going to find when I start out. It's better that way. Serendipitous almost if that makes sense.
Industry goes on around me and I'm reminded that it is a work day here in the city on the shores of Lake Champlain. The trash still needs to be collected; coffee needs to be served; stores need to open their doors; pedestrians need to find their way along the corridors of life; the homeless need to find refuge wherever possible; there is just seemingly less of everything given the persistent and cold rain falling out of doors. Had I been sitting here some 20 years ago I might see fewer laptops, fewer electronic devices, more conversation and less social isolation in general. I don't have earbuds in my ears, a laptop in front of me, or even a smart phone beside me but I am plugged in. Make no mistake about that. Nancy is back at the hotel doing what I'm not sure. I sent her a text when I arrived but she has not texted me back. I am better left to my own devices in the early morning so go off on my own and do what I do. It is coming up on 10 in the morning so I should give some thought to heading back to the hotel. I spent far too much time reading articles on my iPad before getting started here so all in all I might regret not having gotten started sooner. Then again, maybe not.
It is a pleasant rain falling out of doors really. Not heavy enough where you worry about getting drenched in the short term and not much wind to speak of that would surely be problematic were I to be outside for a longer stretch of time. And it is not so cold that even the slightest rain would add to my misery were I given to such misery. I don't think we'll make reservations at the hotel restaurant tonight even though the menu had some very appealing items on it. Nancy will likely have her sights set on some other destination and I will follow like the dutiful husband that I am. It is her preferences that matter after all these years although she is occasionally short on suggestions and is a willing partner when I have a suggestion or two. You have to know when to throw in the towel and when to take the reins and it is not a science but an art. The art of give and take; the art of nothingness.
But today is a new day. Still in Burlington and still sipping the swill in the local coffee shop. Still wanting to get something down on paper and still wondering where the day is going. I can feel that stupid breakfast sandwich sitting in my stomach even though I ate it an hour ago or more. Need to stay with the healthy choices. Yesterday, it was two hard boiled eggs and today some breakfast sandwich with egg and sausage. I thought for a moment that I might be able to strip away the bread but everything was so molten that I didn't give it a second thought. But my coffee is hot and I seem to be finding my stride at this early hour of 7 something. Nancy is back at the hotel and probably still in bed but maybe thinking about getting up and getting some exercise before we check out by noon. I say by noon instead of at noon since we're wanting to get going early on so we can get back home at a reasonable hour. There are taxes to finish and Nancy has notes to take care of for work so that's fine. I'm hoping to get home in time to take a bike ride before dark. Don't anticipate any problems doing that short of an air strike by the Russians or a problem with my bike. That sandwich is just sitting there. I can feel it. I don't like that feeling. Need to work that feeling off somehow and don't know how I do that sitting here for an extended period of time. Just don't know how I get that done.
Need to drink this coffee before it goes cold on me. And now I have a couple of weeks left to work and that's it. I'm done with that career. Moving on as it were. To what I guess we'll see. When you think of all the things a man can do with his free time it's a little overwhelming and maybe that is part of the problem. It's that whole analysis paralysis thing. Or maybe I'll just spend my spare time going fishing. Fuck this screwy world of ours. How will I function in a world without schedules, a world without oversight, a world where my days are my own and not belonging to anyone else. Don't want to get too carried away with that since I am a married man with all the normal constraints suggested or otherwise implicit in that sort of arrangement but still. You know where I'm going with all of this. Or, like me, you don't know exactly. Maybe that is what I find so alluring and at the same time terrifying. Maybe I will just do the Forrest Gump bullshit. Life is nothing more than a box of chocolates. Really? Not sure why there isn't more of a crowd here at Starbucks. It might have something to do with the fact that we're in a shopping area that doesn't open up in any meaningful way for another hour or so.
Before getting started in this here journal I was reading some article in Twitter about Bernie Sanders wife. Great. Another fucking community organizer. I'm sitting in her backyard here in Burlington Vermont even though she and her socialist husband of hers grew up in Flatbush in the Bronx. How the locals here in Vermont bought into their bullshit progressive politics all those years ago I don't know. It doesn't say anything good about the Prius driving morons in this section of the woods who elected him to Congress and, more recently, the Senate. who are all these stupid fucks? Do they really hate the establishment that much that they would look to destroy the very system that allows them to feed the poor and house their sorry asses in housing that they could never otherwise afford given their natural predilection for feeding at the public trough? They want to be one with the privileged classes and hope that the morons that attend their rallies and cheer them on will pick up the freight at the end of the day. I can't say that it won't or can't happen since Obama has proven me wrong on two separate occasions going back to 2008. Don't get me going.
The music plays on here in my tiny little corner of the coffee shop and the good folks of Burlington and beyond filter in while I type away and ignore the lot of them. The sun is out today and I would say unequivocally that it is a welcome sight. It was a drab rainy and overcast day yesterday and today not so much. I will be sorry to leave this nub of the woods. It has allowed me to get away, get a much needed change of scenery, time to think about other things. Time to write and let my imagination wander. Time to forget little and not-so-little things back at home. People outside the shop here are walking their dogs, drinking their morning coffee, wearing shorts and hoodies not wanting to let go of the summer days yet embracing the fall season as crisp, delightful, and decadent as it can be here in Burlington, Vermont. I even had a Macintosh apple the other day which I actually enjoyed and I am not much of a fan of the Macintosh apple. I'm more of a Mutsu man which is a cross between a granny smith and and golden delicious apple. Yes, I want to get grab a few of those before the season comes to an end. They are at their best after the first frost and I'm not sure we've been there yet. I say that with a snicker since I was reading last night about snow falling in the White Mountains just south of here an hour or two. I was also looking at real estate on Lake Champlain on the web as I lie in bed in the dark just before 6 this morning. File that under "one never knows."
I'm feeling constrained this morning not so much by time or things to say but rather by my physical ability to pound away at this here keyboard for an extended period of time. I'm wondering if things would be any better were I able to go to all the restaurants, all the shops, and visit all the off the beaten path type joints hereabouts. Would I feel any better if I'd seen it all and had little or no desire to revisit one or more of the places ever again. Would I want to come here again? Is it all about conquering and experiencing the satisfaction of conquering or is there more to it? Maybe it's the vibe, the soul of the place, the rhythms you achieve that make it seem so real and worthwhile. It's not the people since I never speak to any of them. Why bother. I'm in my own little world and I like it just fine. Ask me if I feel the same way in another 10 minutes and I might have a very different answer for you. Get yourself some direction, Johnny boy. A man needs a purpose and you off all people need a purpose. It's true.
So I look forward to reinventing myself and we'll see where that takes us. Hopefully, to Burlington and beyond. Where are all the cheerleaders when I need them? Someone or other to egg me on. Someone to redirect my energies when they flail or to support me when I need that or more. Like the child climbing on the rock just outside the window here in Starbucks, I need to know that I can slide down the rock until my feet touch even though I don't know how far that is or how much pain I might have to endure just to find out if it's possible. And then your feet are on the ground and the world has not come to an end. You are reminded of that saying, all is well that ends well and you start looking around you for other rocks, bigger rocks, steeper rocks, more jagged rocks, rocks you can't get a grip on, and then you know that all things are possible.
Lake George Vacation 2015
13/September/2015 07:06 AM
Tuesday, the day after labor day 2015. I'm sitting here in Starbucks having a nice hot cup of coffee. Really need it. I stayed up a bit later than usual last night watching Netflix on m pad. Couldn't get the tv to work no matter which buttons I pressed. It wouldn't have been so bad had I not been alone at the place at the lake. Nancy went home yesterday to pick up Evan and bring him back to the lake after his class at Great Bay. I might have gone with her but he came down with a little something so it will be a full court press to get him back to the lake house within 24 hours. I'm not convinced that he wants to come up but I could be wrong. Nancy was willing to make the trip alone so that was that. I called her once she arrived and the trip had gone well. There had been no unexpected surprises and the traffic was not a problem. You know how Labor Day weekends go sometimes. Anyway, good to know she was home safely.
Nancy's sister, Debbie, and her boyfriend Willie, arrived on Sunday and left on Monday around noon or a bit after. We took in the usual sights including Sandy Bay, San Souci, and the sights and sounds of Lake George Village. There is a story to be told for each of those destinations so maybe I'll get there here today and maybe I won't. Suffice it to say that the water was fine, the spots in Sandy Bay elusive but available, the food at San Souci was not bad at all, and the village came with its own surprises. The biggest surprise there was the number of people cruising the streets and the ethnic and racial diversity of same. I was telling Rollie that the crowds of days past were 85% Canadian and 15% Warrensburg and those days are gone. As long as we continue to have a lawless president in the White House who insists on open borders and the purge of Christians we will be at risk for losing the heart and soul of our nation.
After sitting in the boat for a while on Sandy Bay and watching Nancy and her sister, Debbie, swim off towards the shore I decided it was time for me to go in as well and I left Willie to his own devices. A woman bumping around the bay in a kayak approached Willie when the three of us were off galavanting near the shore and asked if he was Woody (aka Rollie.) Too funny. Can't remember how that conversation went but Willie told it in a way that made us all laugh. I think the woman heard what Willie said about not being Rollie, knew in her heart that the man who said he wasn't Rollie was surely sitting in Rollie's boat, and decided to call him on it. "That's Rollie's boat", she said matter of factly. Maybe she gave up after that. Maybe she thought she had said enough but not too much and that it was a good time to end the conversation. She may have paddled off looking once or maybe twice over her shoulder not comfortable with how the conversation ended and the best course of action was to put as much distance between her and the man in Rollie's boat who said he wasn't Rollie as possible.
He didn't look like the kind of man who would follow her but she wasn't taking any chances. The bay was choking with activity and an unlikely place as one can imagine for a criminal act but she knew all too well that there were plenty of ways to die when and where nobody would be the wiser. If the man who said he wasn't Rollie was in fact not Rollie, but driving Rollie's boat, then he was certainly capable of much much more. Nothing sinister necessarily but she wasn't taking any chances. We never saw the woman Wille referred too so didn't know what had become of her. His descriptions were vague but not alarmingly so. We had no reason to be suspicious so laughed aloud when he told us the story in no more than two or three sentences. Two or three well thought out and crafted sentences that is retrospect ended too abruptly. It was laughter intended to deceive and we fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I thought to myself that it could have just as easily been me who had that conversation and maybe it ended well and maybe it didn't. Unlike Willie, I would have kept the encounter to myself. No need to leave a trail of any kind to raise suspicions when and where the specter of possible crime was involved. Drownings are all too common in this lake and they nearly go unreported except that they serve as a reminder to visitors near and far that the lake, while benevolent in its beauty and attraction, has a history of taking lives. One can never be too careful so it is best not to ask too many questions of people you think you know driving boats that as far as you know don't belong to them.
We had a nice ride on the lake heading north out of Sandy Bay with Elizabeth Island as our destination and kept going once we arrived at the island. The water was as choppy as it gets this time of the year with a roughness created by the horrendous cross currents of waves in the widest part of the lake that were akin to what they refer to as a perfect storm in North Atlantic lore. The winds were blowing out of the south enough to stiffen a flag but without the oomph to create white caps in the widest section of the lake. It was a sunny warm afternoon and the drone of the boat engine was ever present as we pushed past Camp Chingacook and points north where camps along the shoreline disappeared and vast sections of the Adirondack reserve rose thousands of feet from shore to mountain top. When we had had enough of dodging rogue waves we turned southward once again and hugged the coastline where the waters were less chaotic. Once back at the camp and after docking we noticed a slick of sorts forming at the rear of the boat. It took a while to sort out but by the time the next morning rolled around we were all feeling a little better about something that ended up, we think, being far less serious than maybe it could have been.
San Souci was busy as expected but we drove there nonetheless hoping against hope that we would both find a place to park and something of our liking to eat. Parking was the bigger of the two hurdles but a space opened up the minute we arrived and not a minute too soon since we were joined by others who we saw milling about outside the restaurant as we arrived. I was surprised that the restaurant was not busier and I think a little surprised that it was as noisy as it was for the few parties that were seated when we walked in. We had no problems finding something to eat both on the menu and on the specials board so ordered as quickly as possible so as to not to lose our seemingly positive momentum. It helped that our waitress was both attentive and easy on the eyes. She was equally vivacious and she may have notched our collective energies up just enough to get us past the noise and other distractions in what was probably standard fare at this long standing neighborhood haunt. And Nancy, true to form, took a liking to my coffee drink and despite my moving it here and there around the table to get it out of her line of sight she found it every time and sipped away at her hearts content. I rationalize times like this by telling myself that were I to drink the beverage as ordered that I would be perhaps unable or unwilling to drive having consumed far more alcohol than is usual for me. Far more indeed.
Rollie joined us on Monday and we looked at his boat together so that was good. After Debbie and Willie had left he stayed the afternoon and we chatted about everything under the sun. He played a tape recording that my father had made of a conversation he and I had in 1990. Did I know he was recording that conversation? It was benign as conversations go but funny nonetheless to hear my 1990 voice and perhaps more interestingly to hear my dad's voice again. It was really nice to hear his voice. God, Rollie and I kicked around a lot of things. That boy has a history floating around in his head that he really ought to get down on paper when he has a spare moment. I think our sister Kathy has a good recollection of things as well but her recollections are occasionally suspect and maybe even self serving from time to time. Memories fade but memories twisted and contorted to serve their masters desires and dreams live on as though etched in cement for eternity. I'm one to talk. I write it all down, well almost all of it, and put my own spin on events when and where the normal flow of events don't suit me. In other words, I make it up as I go along. Rollie and I talked a lot about uncle Karl as well and his relationship with dad which was nonexistent toward the end of Karl's life according to Rollie. As one might expect, the bad blood arose out of the supposed mismanagement of money and perhaps even a lawsuit about same. You just can't make this stuff up!
I keep putting this down and picking it up again. Can't remember what I've written and maybe don't care. Maybe I'll say it again but differently the second time around. I have to say that driving the 350Z that Rollie let me have for the week has been a little weird. It has an altogether different vibe that takes some getting used to. It isn't so much about how I feel driving it because you know that is going to be different compared to driving my 2000 Volvo station wagon. More noticeable than that is how other drivers respond when they come up on me in traffic, on the highway, etc. Just yesterday, for example, I was tooling down the road minding my own business (tell me if you've heard this story before) and I noticed that the vehicle behind me was tailing me in an odd sort of way. They were a little closer than they should have been and it wasn't any coincidence that they looked to be younger drivers. The fact that I could tell at all was not a good thing. It felt aggressive and testosterone driven. Responding in kind would have been irresponsible and reckless and I was not in any hurry to facilitate or otherwise encourage that sort of train wreck. True to form, they waited until we had rounded the bend and passed me with room to spare on the straightaway. I was happy to let them have their moment but the fact of the matter is that this never would have happened in my other more staid vehicle. I don't know if I want that kind of responsibility. Something to think about.
Looks like another nice day on the lake her in Lake George. Nancy and Evan arrived last night a little after 9. I'm glad they made the trip. Nancy drove home on Monday to pick up Evan after his class at Great Bay on Tuesday morning and promised a hasty return. The class never worked out, Evan was down and out with some asthma related illness, and they had a late day doctors appointment to make before getting on the road. They survived all of that and made the long trip back here despite the fact that Nancy was not keen on making any portion of the drive in the dark. It was unavoidable of course but she was clearly in the home stretch by the time darkness fell so perhaps not an issue. She looked none the worse for wear upon her arrival and Evan seemed better than I expected which was good. He coughed a couple of times as he got out of the car and mostly for effect I think. I stopped by Dirty John's earlier in the evening and bought three dogs for Evan which I microwaved when he arrived. I had a nice greek salad with chicken which I enjoyed when I sat down to have dinner well before their arrival. I spent a while tidying up the kitchen so that everything was in its proper place by the time Nancy and Evan arrived and all was well with the world. It was not an overly cool evening but neither was it oppressively warm and it is now just 69 degrees but is expected to reach the low 80's by late this afternoon. Just what the doctor ordered.
I always feel good when I stick to my usual biking routines while on vacation. There is something about just getting on the bike and doing it and maybe getting it behind you that resonates with me. Not doing it is akin to carrying unnecessary baggage so better to get it done. I'd like to say that is has something to do with the endorphin fix that athletes get when getting in a particular zone but I'm not sure that applies to me. Then again, I do think that I am a bit of a daredevil here and there and I take chances that others might consider risky. I think I like living on edge truth be told. So, it has less to do with endorphins and more to do with the thrill of taking chances. Speeding down hills at a breakneck pace with faulty brakes; not looking twice before crossing lanes with crushing and unpredictable traffic patterns; pushing myself up impossibly steep and elongated inclines until my heart is jumping out of my chest; and smirking to myself when drivers on the road, surprised by my crazy antics, lay on the horn with irritation and surprise. People do funny things when reacting to the unexpected. I would have been a formidable candidate with a rap sheet for a resume' had I sought employment as a bicycle courier in an inner city like Boston or New York. I would ride with the best of them and better than most. Don't know where that comes from. I always thought it had something to do with being more competitive than most but am rethinking that now. I fear it is something infinitely more sinister. We need not go there now.
I can hear the family stirring. This house if nothing if not a collection of wood aged and assembled with love and care. Every step taken by one or more of its occupants reveals direction, presence, and sometimes even resistance. The wooden floors creak with annoyance and thunder with a premeditated allowance for tomfoolery as traffic passes from room to room and in and out of the house over the course of the day. Wood used in the construction of this home on the lake still retains its original character and shape and each room has a different story to tell. The patterns of wood when laid down collide in unnatural ways but feel natural underfoot and provide just the right acoustics for voices heard and unheard. Waves caused by passing boats of varying sizes and shapes wash ashore just feet away from the front of the home resonating with a sound eerily like applause and carry through the house channeled by the open doorways. It is easy to take these sounds for granted. They are ever present and easily assimilate into ones comings and goings. Maybe this is what happens when the house welcomes back old friends and those who would protect and preserve it for future generations. Maybe it isn't applause at all. It is the collective sigh of a home with a soul coexisting in a harsh but otherwise loving environment.
What a difference a day makes. The high here today on the lake, if you consider it a high, is 71 degrees. The only good thing about 71 degrees is that it makes drinking my coffee that much more pleasurable. This is a far cry from the high temperatures of the last day or two which felt somewhat oppressive but perhaps less so here on the lake where the flow of air is constant and cooling. And, I think these cooler temperatures might be better all around for our biking activities wherever that takes us today. And, taking the family for a ride in the 350Z with the top down while overcast is preferable to doing that under cloudless skies. The sun can be overbearing and relentless sometimes and it gets to be too much. It is surprising to think as well that we've been here since Sunday and we have only been out in the boat once and that was four days ago as I sit here on the screened in porch overlooking the lake on a very overcast and cool Thursday morning. Granted, Evan has only been here since yesterday but it seems we found other things to do yesterday so we did not do any boating. And what about Saratoga? It is true that what I usually do when we visit that lovely town is to camp out in the local Starbucks with my iPad while Nancy goes shopping. I'm down (good) with that.
Outside this idyllic encampment, the world continues on it's merry or not so merry way. Financial markets around the world are topsy turvy as ever and feeling the pain of decelerating commodity values and devalued asset classes no longer buoyed by long stretches of quantitative easing; Ted Cruz and Donald Trump, two of the top tier presidential candidates for 2016, held a rally on the steps of the US capitol yesterday calling for the defeat of the process that will invariably give Iran the means to build a nuclear arsenal and further imperil the state of Israel and those who have opposed them over the years including the United States; Hundreds of thousands of Syrians are fleeing that war torn country while adjoining countries build walls and fortify their borders to keep their own populations and cultures from imploding under the collective weight of this immigration nightmare; Apple announced new versions of their Apple TV, the iPhone 6, the iPad Pro and the markets responded in ho-hum fashion by sending their stock down another 2 percent; Gas prices have come down and now average around $2.30 a gallon as crude oil seemingly bottoms out at around $42 a barrel; Hillary Clinton remains the likely nominee for her party but the coronation is on hold while the party gnashes their teeth over her plummeting poll numbers when it comes to trustworthy-ness and honesty - in the meantime, Joe Biden contemplates getting into the race and would likely quash yet another Clinton run at the highest office in the land; The impeachment of Obama is imminent and his collaboration with the Muslim brother hood and his alliances with countries and ideologies that call for the defeat of our great country run counter to the oath of office he took as he placed his hand on the Quran while repeating the oath. These laws, once broken, are punishable by death.
It was a good vacation on the lake this year by all accounts. We had just the right mix of weather, friends and family, and exercise. Next year maybe we'll stay longer than the one week we usually plan for. With any luck that will give us more time to see and spend time with family, more opportunity to do the things we like to do, and more time to enjoy the lake. I should like to revisit the new coffee joint in downtown Glens Falls and have another cup of their delicious java. And no, they don't have a coffee of the day. I'll have to remember that before bellying up the counter and making a fool of myself by asking such a question. They probably thought to themselves, what rock has this bozo been living under? Maybe he would prefer something from Dunkin Donuts, or worse if there is such a thing. Honey Bee Donuts maybe? And, we don't have a fucking drive in window so don't ask.
We never did get over to the cemetery so I regret not getting around to that. Rollie wanted to take a minute to go there on our last day at the lake and we had that conversation while we were sitting in our car packed up and ready for the long trip home in New Way Lunch's parking lot. It was too late and our long trip home ;ay ahead of us so we were not wanting to be unduly delayed or distracted from our task at hand. Fact of the matter is, ain't nobody over there at the cemetary going anywhere any time soon so our visit can wait. We also never got over to Lake George Village while the car show was in town. We we're close when doing the biking trail and the skies were overcast so it was perfect for picture taking but we just didn't do it. Never saw Lise or Kathy either despite our best intentions to do just that. We spent a bit of time with Denise not long ago so had no plans to get together with her other than the plans we usually have while in the are which is to take the sisters out for lunch or dinner. Also never saw Rollie's family but spent time with Rollie so was not completely in the dark on matters involving Terri and Carli. Neither did they see Evan so that was that.
Thanks to everyone who made this vacation possible, with a special thanks to Rollie for providing both a boat and a car which proved invaluable (and fun!) while Nancy was was away in New Hampshire picking up Evan.
Idle Thoughts
15/August/2015 07:15 AM
…Listening to Amy Winehouse unplugged. Been up for a while this morning. Since the crack of dawn really. Turned over in bed while it was still dark and a little after 4:30 in the morning. Grabbed my iPad and started reading the latest twitter feed. What is all of this business about entire populations fleeing war torn countries and inundating Europe arriving day after day by the thousands? And then I'm reading somewhere yesterday that our government is shipping refugees from Somalia, Ghana, and other hellholes on this planet to the fine state of North Dakota. And where did I read that in New York or California, or maybe this was in Massachusetts that they are creating all Spanish speaking classrooms for the illegal aliens that continue to turn up in numbers unparalleled in recent history thanks to the immigration policies of our commander-in-chief, Barry Obama. In the upcoming election I'm voting for the first republican candidate who promises to overturn every one of Barry's illegal executive orders. If he or she promises to prosecute Barry and his entourage of criminals occupying our white house I might even vote twice for that candidate.
Just call me Mr. Compassion.
Back in the Hood
14/August/2015 08:13 AM
As a postscript to an otherwise terrific trip up through Stowe, Vt, and then on to Burlington, and then down through Middlebury, Vt where we hooked up with Denise for a little lunch, I would say it went well. The weather cooperated, the hotels were accommodating, we could have done a better job making reservations around the Burlington leg of the trip, there were no shortage of decent places to grab a bite to eat, and I could always find a Starbucks when I needed one. That is to say, my itinerary always includes spending time writing in my journal (blog) in the early morning and my favorite haunt and place to write is Starbucks. The good news is that seldom do I find myself in a spot where there is not a Starbucks or, at a minimum, a place that comes off as a Starbucks wanna be. That means a place where the coffee is pitch black, seating is accommodating, and some kind of music playing in the background always helps.
Lunch with Denise came out of the blue. In other words, it was not planned. I think it was Nancy who said something about being in Middlebury around lunchtime as we were heading south through Vt. Putting two and two together, we gave Denise a ring and, voila, she answered. She met us in downtown Middlebury shortly before the noon hour where there were any number of places to grab lunch and after stopping in a place or two we ended up with a recommendation to yet one more place which is where we ended up. It was one of those order at the counter and take your food to an empty table kind of places. The three of us had salads and Saratoga spring waters to drink. We sat under a canopy of sorts outside the shop and enjoyed some very pleasant conversation about this and that. It was about family mostly and it was good to hear all was going well with everyone. We talked a bit about our upcoming trip to the lake as well and I should have talked to Denise about getting together with the sisters for dinner sometime during the week but forgot to mention it. I'll try to follow up with her on same. Maybe making dinner at the camp is a better idea? What would I make? Would I have to please everybody? Maybe we can make it a pot luck sort of thing.
It's fun having a week off. Yes, indeed. A week to do whatever I or we please within reason. Not sure what that means but it feels right saying it. I really should have created a to-do list. I wanted to wash some windows, do a little maintenance on the snow blower, run the generator, etc., but I've not worried about not getting to those things. And now that the week is coming to an end, and I still have three days before I return to work, the monkeys are off my back and I can do whatever I damn well please. If I want to go for a bike ride instead, and I surely do and will once I finish writing in this here blog, I will do just that. Nancy has gone off to her cycling class so I am on my own and sometimes prefer that when riding. I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder to see where she is and then worrying when I don't see her. Did she get a flat? Maybe she fell after running over or into something. Maybe a car clipped her or ran her off onto the side of the road and she is sitting there with bent rims and hurt feelings. You just don't know so can't assume anything. Of course, I never tell her I prefer riding alone. How do you think that would make her feel? Off I go then before I lose the window I'm wanting to take advantage of. Before the sun gets too high in the sky, the crowds along my path too dense and too boisterous, and the winds picking up as they do here along the coast come midday.
Burlington by way of Stowe VT
09/August/2015 07:22 AM
Buenos dias, laddies. It's a fine morning here in Stow VT. Kick ass, really. Don't know about this coffee joint but it sure helps to have some caffeine. It was Nancy's idea to come to Stow but I'm good with going to places we've never been before. It's small, quaint, and well, as they say maybe a little to often here in Vermont, bucolic. Oh, and it's foggy. We're hoping to get some biking in today before the day gets too long in the tooth so I'm looking forward to that. I was a little disappointed that they only had egg sandwiches in this place. I was hoping for some quiche. Yes, a real manly breakfast. Just trying to stay away from the bread. I think gluten may not be the friend I was looking for all these years. The more I hear about people trying to avoid it it makes me wonder if it isn't something worth avoiding. And there are those days you are just looking to put something in your stomach. This might be one of those days. Nonetheless, I'll stay away from the bread given half a chance.
People are filing into this place at a pretty good clip now as the hour gets closer to 8. The village is waking up I guess. Where are all the farmers? The fisherman? The breakfast cooks? The beauticians? And, where are all the fucking Vietnamese nail buffers? I may be two cups of coffee into my morning before I start seeing them. I'm wondering about this trail we're supposed to be riding on today too. Is it too long? Is it long enough? Is it too busy? Does it overlook anything of interest? Will I get a flat tire? Stay positive, Johnny. The day is long and it is all in front of you. Better than that, and honest to god let's get with the program, your week is ahead of you. You have no meetings and no conference calls. No taking your laptop into the nearest huddle room to catch a tier two anything. I love the people but the process is tedious. So, I put all of that behind me this week and I get to think about things I want to think about. World hunger; trading derivatives; world markets; books I have but haven't yet read; music that hasn't been written; Paths that haven't been travelled; fishing spots that haven't been fished; am I forgetting anything?
This is such a nice little spot. I'm seated at a window table, one of two in this place, and I'm left wondering when Starbucks is coming to town and just how long this place will stay in business once that happens. Looking out over the town from my seat, the fog is burning off slowly revealing more and more of the distant pastures with every sip of my coffee. I think all of the fog may yet burn off and it could be a steamy day. That's okay, right? I mean, does it really matter? I'm not one to obsess about such things when alternatives abound. There are 81 restaurants in Stowe. Who knew. Just walking to this coffee shop I think I passed 5 of them. Where the fuck are all the rest? Turns out we ate at one of the best last night. Oh, and you're a bloody restaurant critic now, are you? All I would say is that while we had a moments hesitation when we were told that they couldn't accommodate us without a reservation we got over ourselves fairly quickly and took a seat at the mahogany horseshoe shaped bar where we decided that it was someplace we could probably eat and be okay with it.
I ordered steamed mussels in some kind of cream sauce served with a hot roll and topped with some kind of gritty concoction which is hard to describe but was quite good. Sometimes you're just thankful that food that should be served hot is served as advertised and this was. The bar itself was in the basement of a building in downtown Stowe but looked like it had been a bar for well over a hundred years and maybe more. Seating and spacing was not generous by any stretch of the imagination but that may have been part and parcel the pubs allure. It was a small space and you couldn't navigate the aisles without turning one or more parts of your body to the side or stopping altogether to let someone to pass. I order a stir fry as well and hoped for less rice and or pasta and more vegetables. The serving size was surprisingly small but sufficient nonetheless and I was satisfied that I had ordered the right dish. Nancy ordered shrimp tacos and the shrimp were halved and braised on one side and very flavorful. I'm not a big fan of fish, shrimp, or other types of tacos but I had one shrimp off her plate and took what she didn't eat back to the hotel for a snack later that evening. We both ordered drinks and were both fairly intoxicated and unsteady on our feet after having just one beverage. As we got up to leave, the stairs leading up and out of the place seemed steeper than we remembered them coming in. Thank god for handrails.
I've seen and heard a few cars going through town that sported very loud mufflers. Either the rules around here when it comes to this sort of thing are extremely lax or there are more than a few vehicles that will more than likely not pass inspection when the time comes. And the locals? An earthy bunch to be sure. You can tell by the way they dress. Birkenstocks and bell bottoms. And the music? It's a throw back from the 70's wherever you go. Were it not for certain things in and about town I would say that this is a town that has been forgotten by time. Don't get me wrong. I like Creedence Clearwater, Led Zeppelin, and others from back in the 70's. And this watering hole, as I understand it, is an extremely popular place to frequent especially in the winter. It is a veritable skiers paradise and most of the growth over the last number of years has been due to that interest. Not entirely a bad thing I suppose. It is, no doubt, a small price to pay in order to survive the winter months in this mountain enclave.
I don't know that we'll be getting our bike ride in today due to the rain. It's not raining hard but it is raining so Nancy may not want to go. I would go but certainly not if it starts raining any harder than it is now. I'm looking out the window here at the cafe and see umbrellas and windshield wipers so that should tell you something. In a way, taking biking off the table frees up time from our schedule to do other things before we check out so I think I'm ok with the rain. I might like to stay here at my little table near the window and put a bit more down on "paper." Maybe not. Maybe I just want to sit down and have a leisurely breakfast, an omelet or something. Maybe I just want to sip my coffee rather than chugging it just to move the day along. Vacations mean slowing down, not speeding up. When your destination is the town that time forgot you should take note and live in the moment no matter how long that moment takes.
It was good that we took the car last night and drove on the highway leading out of town in an effort to find a place to have dinner. It felt good to be in the car again for some odd reason. It felt good to roll down the windows and let the air circulate around us cooling things down and putting a stop to the humidity that was ever present but not overly oppressive. It just kind of wears you down so better to change things up and that is what we did. I think Nancy was a little tired from all of her kicking around town and as much as she enjoyed doing what she was doing it was good for her to change it up as well. We pulled in to a parking lot at a restaurant called "The Bench" where we got the last parking spot. We took that as a good sign. The more popular the place, the better the food and drink, the livelier the atmosphere, the better. Right?
That turned out to be true for the most part. The place was spacious and as bustling as the parking situation suggested and we were promptly seated at a pleasant table in a corner where the light was nice, the view was good from at least one of the seats (Nancy's), and our waitress was efficient but not overly self effacing. It was one of those places built around a wood burning oven and most but not all items on the menu were pizza related. Or, do they call it flatbread these days. I ordered the mussels and they too were cooked in the oven. The mussels were served in a small cast iron skillet and came steeped in a tomato based broth that reminded me a little bit of spaghetti sauce. While that didn't thrill me I could have just as easily had the sauce on pasta and would have found that to be acceptable meal. There were just enough mussels to satisfy me before the main course was served so I was happy, how do they say, as a clam. Nancy did not get an appetizer and she is not a fan of mussels so sharing was not necessary. We sipped our soda waters till the entrees were served and had a jolly good time taking in the sights and enjoying our time together. When the salads arrived, hers topped with chicken and mine with ahi tuna, we busied ourselves with the task at hand. All in all, a decent meal with only a minor indiscretion here and there which we happily ignored. Who serves salads without tomatoes?
We told Evan that we might be coming home a day earlier when talking to him on the phone last night. He was not pleased. We were just jawboning about going to Burlington or not going to Burlington depending on the weather and that was one of the options. Who wants to go to Burlington if the rain keeps us from enjoying the sights and sounds of one of our favorite destinations? Nancy was certainly not deterred and as I sit here this morning I'm thinking as well that rain or no rain going to Burlington was not a bad idea. We're taking this trip as a dry run to a larger trip coming soon so we might as well take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, what would we be doing at home in the rain that we can't do just as easily in Burlington?
One of the comments we saw in trip advisor, as it relates to this watering hole of a town, is that flies are a problem. Not sure what that is all about but I can tell you firsthand that we've seen them here and about town from the moment we stepped into town. We've not stayed at outdoor cafes just to avoid them. Even here at the cafe, at the early hour of 7, I was seated for no more than a minute when I had a little visitor. Just go away! We're not talking about those big bad boys or even green heads whose bites can stop you in your tracks. These are common, everyday, houseflies or so it seems. Maybe they are the kinds of flies that morph out of decay and hint of morbidity and death. A harbinger of things to come. If we're seeing them it may well be too late for us. All we can do is swat them away and hope that wherever we go that they do not follow. They are pesky little fucks so worth mentioning. Not that anyone cares or can do anything about it.
I can hear people ordering at the counter, children crying out for their parents attention, the clatter of cups and the shuffling of feet, the jostling of chairs, and the constant but pleasant banter offered by the staff as their patrons file in and out of the cafe. The door behinds me opens and closes quietly but with a telltale creek probably not worthy of someones attention. My nose is squarely to the grindstone and my head is buzzing with thoughts that may or may not ever become clear enough to get down for posterity. There is a small child seated at a nearby table. She is cute as a button and she sits quietly. Whether she is amused, bewildered, astonished, or none of those things I'll never know. She is caught up in the moment as perhaps any other child her age and that may be for the better. Her parents, I'm sure thankfully, need not cajole, mollify, or even pay attention to her in her moment of peace. Her sweet unintelligible voice fills the air from time to time reminding her caretakers that she occupies space in the universe just as they do and that she is just as if not more important than they are. She is the future after all and that has become lost in the momentous rhythms of their collective family existence. They would do well to pay her the attention she deserves for chances like this are fleeting at best. There will, no doubt, be others but none as opportune as this. Just ask her, she'll tell you.
My coffee is getting cold but that is not unexpected so I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I don't or can't. I'm wanting all of the "hands up,don't shoot" crowd in Ferguson to go away or get locked up. Grievances my ass. Get a fucking job and get off the streets. If you don't obey the cops then you go to jail. It's as simple as that. And will someone please tell Obama that the Iran deal is off the table and there will be no deal? That asshole can't get out of office fast enough for me. And yes, we want to defund Planned Parenthood and sanctuary cities since there is a rule of law and without a rule of law we're doomed as a society. Obama's reign has given rise to candidates like Trump who are no more suited to sit in the White House than its present occupant. I was awake at 4 this morning reading about Governor Mike Pence who signed a bill into law requiring that aborted fetuses deserve to be treated with dignity and respect and will forthwith be either buried or cremated once aborted. They will no longer be sold for their body parts or washed down drains by the Planned Parenthoods of the world. If you can't outlaw the very act of abortion you can at the very least provide a modicum of dignity and respect for its victims. This very subject is saddening and the rain outside is falling with greater intensity now making the world outside my own little sanctuary here in the coffee shop seem dark and foreboding.
Burlington is everything we thought it would be and more. We were here many years ago but some things never change. It is a beautiful little town that sits on the edge of Lake Champlain and is by and large a college town. Maybe tourism comes in a close second. Not sure. We hemmed and we hawed before making our way north and hour or so from Stowe due to the weather but those fears were largely allayed when the rain stopped and the skies cleared by the time we arrived in town. We knew a couple of things. We knew we wanted to grab a bite to eat and we knew we wanted to get out of the car and walk around town a bit if for no other reason than to get reacquainted with an old haunt. Well, a haunt in the sense that it was a favorite destination even though we've only been there but a handful of times. On one occasion, in fact, we drove several hours north to Burlington so we could catch a ferry to New York where we then traveled south until we ended up in Lake George. Talk about haunts. Someone recently referred to Lake George as my happy place. I had to think about that for a moment but it is, in fact, true. It also happens to be where I grew up.
We also knew we wanted to see the movie or documentary of Amy Winehouse's life so we set sail on that particular course. We made the mistake of not making hotel reservations in town so had to travel south a few miles before we could find what we considered to be suitable accommodations. You would be surprised at how flexible your requirements become when the sun sets and you are tired after a long day of activities. Had it not been for plans we made to see the movie later that evening, and our desire to see the documentary after blowing off a number of opportunities back in New Hampshire, we might well have driven the 3-4 hours it was going to take to get back home. I was up to the drive and getting a little tired of all of the nonsense we ran into while looking for a place for the night. How is it that every time we got on the phone with someone to ask about reservations we ended up talking a person in Southeast Asia who couldn't understand us when said the word "Burlington." That's "B" as in boy. They were quite clear about there being no availability so that was a good thing. Time to get off the phone and continue our search. Thanks for nothing.
We had lunch at Mirabelle's in Burlington. Maybe I order chef salads because of the variability in how they are assembled. Maybe I like them because they combine salad with a bunch of other things that pass for protein and protein is a good thing. Only four dressings on the menu? What is that all about? I opted for the sesame ginger because everything else seem to have a cream base and I was wanting to do without something creamy and glutenous. The cafe was lively with families, couples, students, professors and the like. There were a couple of fuddy duddies sitting within earshot of us reading their students papers off their cell phones and comparing notes as though they were the only patrons in the place. A big mistake in my humble opinion. What if I recognized my son's writing and heard them saying nasty things about his writing style or, worse yet, his ability to complete a sentence using the english language. How intolerant would I be? Would I let on that I thought he was a nitwit and that commenting on someone's writing in a public place was an asinine thing to do? Who knows.
Nancy, for whatever reason, had a more resilient memory of the things we did back in Burlington back in the day. She kept asking me if I remembered this or remembered that and I kept drawing blanks. Some things I remembered very well but other things not so much. I was a little surprised at the things she remembered and wondered if I should have retained the same memories or were these things she experienced and I did not? Worse yet, were these things that the two of us experienced and now only one of us remembers? I do think that there is such a thing as retaining things that have no value and I would dismiss that as time not well spent. I would go so far as to say that I would make an extra effort to not do that and would encourage anyone who is willing to listen to do the same thing. Maybe I should take more pictures and I could refer to them under the cover of darkness the next time she asks down the road. I thought for a moment that I might make something up just to stump her so I wasn't the only one experiencing pre-alzheimers. Thank god for GPS is all I have to say. What I forget, it remembers. Or, it figures it out while I'm still scratching my chinny-chin-chin.
I was so trying to be good last night when we waltzed into the city market after the show around 10:30 and for the most part I succeeded. I wanted to avoid eating garbage before bedtime but thought that something, a small something, a snack of miniscule proportions might be just what the doctor ordered. The place was a busy even at the late hour of 10:30 and I went with the hustle bustle and allowed it take me where it would until I found myself in a good place. I avoided the pastries, the quick meals packaged for folks on the go, the ten-piece sushi dishes that would have been fine were it not for the rice that I wanted to avoid, and frozen food section which was for people more patient than I and with infinitely more time on their hands.
It was raining quite hard when we left the theater but it had stopped by the time we reached the market that was close by. I managed to have a slightly soggy shirt which quickly chilled when I entered the market. I felt almost hypothermic and sought out the warm exhaust emanating from one or more of the refrigeration chests where I took refuge for seconds at a time while considering my next move. Nancy was well on her way to other areas in the store and had left me to my own devices which was fine. I just needed to get over myself and get on with the task at hand. My final selections were reasonable ones. I grabbed a small take-out container of both hummus and egg salad and consumed both in section of the store set aside for folks wanting to have a bite to eat before leaving the store. I bought a container of peanut butter to take home and thought long and hard about where I might be keeping it once at home given Evan's peanut allergy.
I am preoccupied this vacation with all things market related. We're talking about the financial markets and not food markets for a change. Two of my favorite subjects truth be told. I understand the underpinnings of neither particularly well but both are all consuming and of intense interest to me. I wish I knew more about the financial side of things and wonder whether I will ever grasp even the basics or anything more than watching things go up and down day in and day out. That is an oversimplification to be sure but when I hear and see things about currency devaluations and derivatives it confuses me and at the same time challenges me to better understand what it all means. I want to be in the trenches with the big boys; in the trading pits surrounded by ticker tape and pencil necked geeks with asian surnames. That's not a slight against Asians; it is a truism that they are better equipped and better educated in the ways of such things so who do you want on your team at the end of the day? That, my friend, is a rhetorical question. And where do you start to get the kind of education you need to do battle in the pits? Soon, I will have the kind of time I need to answer such questions so not to worry. I will go into the fray with my eyes wide open and that will be that. I can only hope that this will all be for the better but I think time will be the final judge. And so it goes. Hopefully.