Otherwise known as "Who the hell let's a 16 year old drive on a NYC expressway?!"
After my Mom died (for that story read the post The Cheese in my Cheesecake), things were obviously a bit strained at home. I struggled in school. I'm fairly certain I only passed Chemistry because the teacher felt sorry for me. I honestly don't remember anything the rest of that school year. In an effort to try to bond with my younger sister and me, and to try to get our heads back on track, Pops decided that it would be a good idea to take a road trip.
So that following summer, we loaded up into my Grandpa Leo's Farfegnugen contraption and headed east. This thing was like a van/camper. The top raised a little and there was a bed up there and the couches converted into a bed below. It was basically a mini RV. If I could find a picture of one I'd show you. Anyway, the plan was to go to Boston. He was trying to make me happy. I applaud him for his efforts, however driving for 12 hours I was ready to grab my suitcase and get out and walk the rest of the way. Have you ever heard of Kitaro? Look it up. My Father insisted on playing it the ENTIRE trip. Said we should expand our music interests. Dude. Seriously, look it up. Pretty for a few songs, then....22 hours later and you want to stab your ears with a pen.
Needless to say we made it to Boston. Yup. We went to Dorchester. In fact we drove around Dorchester for two friggin hours because I insisted that I could find Donnie. I was 16 years old people. What the hell did I know?
I remember driving past Fenway Park, and thinking how cool it would be to go to a game. Pops played baseball in High School, which is why I ended up playing little league. I was the only girl on an all boy team. The team name? The Bears. And yes we sucked (*nodding* Go ahead. Laugh it up. It's totally fine). I LOVED to throw, LOVED to run, HATED batting. All those things still hold true. The memory of playing catch with him in the backyard just popped into my head. I'm a southpaw, but I only write and eat with my left. I do everything else with my right. So I would catch left and throw right. Sorry, I got sidetracked . Moving on...
I don't remember where we camped, or even sleeping much. Never was much of a sleeper. Brain is too busy. Bits and pieces of campgrounds along the way flash in my head, but I can't quite grab onto a solid memory of them. I bet my younger sister could, or Pops for that matter. He'd remember that kind of stuff.
We took in all the historical sites and ended up stopping at Faneuil Hall Marketplace and eating at one of the outdoor cafes. I remember just sitting there, and watching all the people and SO much entertainment! I wasn't sure where to look. Except at the clowns I wouldn't look at the clowns. I intensely dislike clowns. The first time I had ever seen street musicians was that day. Watching them perform was the moment I fell in love with Boston. It wasn't the all the historical places we had just seen, although they were cool too, but it was sitting there surrounded by a world of performing artists. I felt like I was meant to be there. I can't tell you what they played, but I just remember how happy they were, and how happy they made me feel.
Even now, if I still myself, close my eyes, and take a deep breath I can smell the food and hear the commotion. And flowers. I remember a lot of brightly colored flowers. Looking back now, it's probably why I fell in love with NYC. Of course I still have to get over my fear of driving in NYC, but I blame Pops for that one. He decided on our way home we should make a pit stop in NYC and somehow decided that it was a brilliant idea to put me behind the wheel of the friggin van on the expressway. I don't know which one. All I remember is almost tipping the frakkin thing over because I was taking an off ramp way too fast. Why? Because I was scared shitless that's why. Genius Pops. Friggin genius.
After that fiasco, and on the way back home I remember making the decision that I HAD to go back. Couldn't get it out of my head. I fell for a boy from the city and his city made me fall in love with the arts again. I decided that fall that I was going to go to The Boston Conservatory and major in dance and minor in music.
That dream didn't happen though. That's a different story. Perhaps another time...
:)
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