NY to
NC
My final
week in New York City was non-stop. Dates, dinners and parties
filled every evening. Sunday night I visited Patricia.
Monday night I was treated to a lavish dinner by a stock broker
trying to win more business from me. We dined at Smith &
Wollensky, one of New York's best steak houses. The food was
outstanding, but the liquor flowed a bit too freely. Two bottles
of fine wine with dinner and a couple of cognacs for desert did
me in and it was all I could do to make it home after throwing
up all over the sidewalk outside the bar. (Hey, I never said I
was a class act.) I spent most of the next day recovering.
Tuesday
night Sara & Michael (my sister & brother-in-law), threw
an anniversary bash for themselves at a friend's $5-million
townhouse on west 89th Street. It was an awesome home that the
happy owners were still renovating. That was about enough
upscale events in a row for this country boy. Almost. My Big Apple
send-off wasn't quite finished yet.
Wednesday
was Saint Patrick's Day. During the past 5 years that I've been
living in the Northeast, we've made that day into a minor family
tradition. My parents, my daughter, my grandchildren and I are
all native New Yorker's, four generations born right here in
Manhattan. (Well, I think my mother was actually born in
Brooklyn, but that's still New York City so I guess we'll keep
her.) In New York everybody is Irish on St. Patrick's
Day, so each year we all put on something green and go watch the
parade on 5th Avenue. It's not an elaborate parade - there
aren't any floats - but troops of policemen and firemen and
sanitation workers step proudly, encouraged by local high school
marching bands and the heartfelt cheers of the crowds lining
both sides of the Avenue. It's really a hometown
celebration.
This year
my 4-generation core group was joined by sister Jacki &
Colorado Ron, Lisa's assistant at work, Alicia, and my
grandkids' pretty Brazilian nanny, Ana. It was snowing on
St. Pat's Day, wouldja believe! Aye, and so it was that we all
traipsed across Central Park to our usual rendezvous at the
corner of 65th & 5th, where we found my 93-year-old father
already waiting on the southwest corner as usual. We watched the
parade and cheered and whooped dutifully for about an hour and
that was enough cold and snow. Then we taxied downtown to our
favorite Irish Pub, Tir Na Gog (I think that's what it's
called), where we toasted each other in our best imitation Irish
brogue and ate corned beef and cabbage and the like. Aye, and a
good time was had by all.
Click
photos to enlarge
The next
day I caught the bus back to Rhode Island and my RV. Friday
night Josh & Tiffany threw a very nice going away party for
me in their new (my old) house, which they have made beautiful
with fresh paint, new carpeting, nice furniture and hard work.
Attending friends included Danielle Sappet, who worked for me
these past several years and has been invaluable to my business,
and her husband, Pete, a professional computer systems expert
who saved my ass so many times when my computers malfunctioned
that I can't count them all. Brad and Amy and their little boy
live aboard a Bristol 40 sloop at the marina docks year around,
and the yard manager, Mike Keyworth and his wife came to say
their farewells. Finally, my old sailing buddy, Captain Dan
Sweeney, formerly of the schooner Moondrift, came
up from Newport with a lady friend. Everyone ate and drank and
had a great time all evening.
Saturday,
March 20th, 2004: Around 10:00 AM, I carefully backed the Walkabout
out of my former backyard and drove out of Barrington, Rhode
Island. I was elated, saddened and a bit nervous all at once.
Elated to be setting off on the next phase of my life at last,
one I hope will be chock full of new places and adventures.
Saddened that I will no longer be near enough to my family in
the Northeast to visit so often. Nervous because this was the
first time I'd driven my new motor home fully loaded. Actually,
I thought I had stowed everything securely enough for driving,
but I was very much mistaken.
Almost
immediately things began to rain down from shelves and
cupboards. Books slid out of the cabinet behind me, odds &
ends in the galley fell into the sink, plastic bottles at the
bathroom sink bounced onto the floor, and all kinds of stuff
stored directly over the driver's seat shook loose and showered
down onto me. Hats, ponchos, gloves, even one of my two guitars
pelted my head & shoulders, not hard but steadily for a few
minutes while the camper rolled and bounced along the streets of
Barrington. I decided I'd just let things find their way for a
while so I'd know what needed to be secured better. At the same
time, the stove & oven made a huge clattering racket every
time I went over any little bump in the road, and bottles &
dishware banged and rattled in the lockers creating an unnerving
racket. After a few blocks of this, I pulled over and spent some
time re-stowing, padding and bracing. Before long I had things
in some semblance of order, but I've been improving it ever
since.
I visited
Captain Dan Sweeney in Newport to see his new house, a big one
with enough rooms to make a fine boarding house. Then I dropped
off some leftover boat gear at a marine consignment shop,
crossed the Jamestown bridge, and paid a call on my good
friends, Danny & Cindy Siegel, in Narragansett.
When I
first arrived in Rhode Island 5 years and 4 months ago, I was
traveling in my previous RV. My sister, Sara, and her husband,
Michael, urged me to call the Siegel's, since Cindy is Michael's
sister and they're all the best of friends. Well, I wound up
spending my first night in my new home state parked in Dan &
Cindy's driveway, and that night I enjoyed the first of many
feasts in their home. It seemed somehow fitting that I
spend my last night in Rhode Island as I had spent my first,
camped out in the Siegel's driveway.
Cindy
Siegel is a Yale graduate and a practicing midwife. Danny is a
pharmacist by trade and a farmer by avocation. When he's not
working at the local drug store, he grows just about everything
imaginable on their couple of Narragansett acres . Fruits &
salads, greens and veggies all thrive behind the Siegel's
farmhouse-like home. Dan also brews his own beer and makes
excellent wine, and every fall puts on a traditional New England
apple pressing that sometimes gets written up in the local
newspaper. In the summer he raises sheep and chickens and keeps
honey bees. Dinner at the Siegel's house is always warm,
friendly, festive, garden-fresh and absolutely delicious. During
these past 5 years, I've spent many a fine evening with
them, one or more of their three beautiful daughters, and
assorted friends & family.
Sunday I
left Rhode Island and drove to my sister Sara's house on
Candlewood Lake, Connecticut, where I dropped off several
boxes-full of photographs and original music tapes & records
for long-term storage in her basement. After having lunch with
her and Michael, I finally set out in earnest for my new old
life on the road. I crossed the Hudson River via the George
Washington Bridge, catching a final panorama of Manhattan Island
stretching off to my left, and then headed south on I-95. That
night I slept surprisingly well parked in a rest area along the
New Jersey Turnpike with truckers all around me, their diesel
engines idling as they dozed in their heated cabs.
I
drove all day Monday except for a brief stop in
Annapolis, Maryland, to look at a 46' ketch for sale there. I
don't really want to buy my next cruising sailboat yet, but I'll
be keeping an eye out from now on. If I spot something that's
just too good to pass up, my plans might change suddenly. We'll
see how long I can hold out and remain boatless. For now I'd
prefer to keep my life light and simple while I recover from 5
years of hard labor.
I got my
first glimpse of spring as I rolled through Richmond, Virginia,
where trees, shrubs and flowers were budding and blossoming
everywhere I looked. What fun to escape the tail end of that
frigid New England winter (there was still snow on the ground
when I departed). I got off the Interstate just over the North
Carolina border, switching to secondary highways and back roads
that led me through pretty farm country and small towns showing
mostly black inhabitants. I finally bedded down in Washington,
NC, parked in front of the local Wal-Mart store. I went in and
confirmed with an employee that it is, indeed, Wal-Mart's policy
nationwide to allow people traveling in RV's to park in their
parking lot overnight. It's a smart policy for the stores and
convenient for me when I'm making tracks and just want to stop,
sleep and continue on my way. I expect I'll be taking
advantage of Wal-Mart's generous offer again from time to time.
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I
write today from Beaufort, North Carolina, where my good
friends John & Lisa Nelson run a yacht brokerage
from their house on Hill Street. John & I have been
getting into trouble together since we met on the first
day of school in 2nd grade, when we got into a fight
over who was going to sit at which desk. John claims he
won the fight, but the truth is I was kicking his butt
when the teacher broke it up.
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Since
I've been here John & I have picked some guitar on
the back porch and raised some hell in town quaffing
pints of beer and mounds of chicken wings along with
Lisa. Today was so warm & sunny we took their
motorboat out for its first spin of the season. My RV is
parked in the Nelson's backyard driveway. I have
de-winterized the plumbing system and finished
installing my drinking water filter.
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I'm on the
road again. Life is good.
Next
Entry: 04/05/04
