Like it or not, here it comes:
Saturday night, which seemed like the end of a 48-hour Friday (I had parent meetings all day Friday, a performance Friday night, a parade and more meetings Saturday morning,) my friend Wendy picked me up to take me to the train station here in town to catch my 9:16 p.m. train.
We got there, and she didn't want me to go in. The train station is definitely on the wrong side of the tracks--a dark and neglected side of town. I went in while she waited to check it out, and there were 2 other women in the waiting room. She reluctantly let me stay after she made me take her pepper spray.
Over the next half hour, another couple of families came in. One of them saw the shirt I was wearing from the girls' school/university where I taught in the fall--both parents worked at that school and their son went to a local school where I've accompanied musical theatre. They were on their way to New York.
When the train arrived, we were sorted by destination and given a little hand-written slip with a seat number on it. I was sent to the rear car, and put in a seat right behind the door on the aisle. The row didn't even have a window, and it became clear immediately that this wasn't going to work. The door was broken, and banged constantly (like 80 times a minute.) Because it wouldn't close completely, there was a strong smell of diesel and burning brake fluid. I asked if I could switch seats, but the employee I asked rudely told me that I couldn't because they were booked solid. I was almost in tears--I was exhausted and knew there was little or no hope of sleeping in that seat, and disappointed that I wouldn't be able to see outside once the sun came up.
I wandered up through the train to see where the lounge, restrooms, dining cars, etc. were. The two cars in front of mine were almost completely empty, and the car in front of that was only partially filled. I asked someone else and was given the same answer, with the addition of, "We have a lot of families that we can't split up." (This is a pet peeve of mine--single people discrimination. I paid as much as those mamas and daddies and twice as much as their kiddies.)
I was ready to spend the night in a bathroom when I found my friends from the station--mama, daddy, and son. Two on the right side, and one on the left. They asked me where I was sitting, and I told them of my troubles. Dad (David) said, "Go get your stuff. You're traveling with us now." The ladies behind them said, "Yeah! You can be our family!"
They didn't have to twist my arm. I settled in and started to fall asleep thinking of all the ways I could stand my ground. Once, after a conductor had gone by I looked up and David said, "Don't worry--I've got a good story for them if they ask!" They told me later that only one asked, and she didn't question when they said I was a cousin going to New York with them.
My family was staying in Alexandria, VA, but I was meeting them at Union Station in DC. Here's the funny part: Just after the train stopped in Alexandria, I got a call from my brother. He said, "Are you sitting next to the window of the train?" Yes. "Is your train just pulling out of Alexandria?" Yes. "We're waving at you from the platform of the Metro!" No, I don't have pictures of this.
The week in DC had its ups and downs. It was REALLY crowded. Really, really. My mom and dad don't walk long distances very well, and my long week and short sleep left me feeling drained, so we bugged out back to the hotel before my brother and his family a couple of days. Probably the only real disappointment I had was going to the Smithsonian museum of American History. It looked really cool, but was SO crowded that we could barely get around. I hoped to get back over there later, but never had the time.
As I said, we were staying in Alexandria. I LOVE old places, and we were in the Old Town section, right on King Street. One night I was with my parents on the trolley (or, as my 5-year-old nephew called it, the "Charlie") and we met a couple from Edinburgh. I was oohing and ahhing over the "old" buildings when I remembered that Edinburgh's "New Town" is more than twice as old as Alexandria's "Old Town." Perspective is a crazy thing.
After one morning of putzing around with the whole family in the Air & Space museum and a tour with Mom & Dad of the old postal pavillion and tower (very cool!) I sent Mom & Dad back without me so that I could go 1) buy some NyQuil to both knock out my cold and drown out their snoring and 2) run off to the National Portrait Gallery. (My trips with BB, FFF, and the former future fiance have hooked me on art galleries! I was already suffering from gallery withdrawal.) That place was gorgeous, and the first not-crowded place I'd visited. Heaven. Here's the funny part--I actually got an email from the former future fiance while I was in there, so I got to share that special little bit of the trip with him. Very funn.
I always love Arlington, but it was ridiculously crowded, too. (And crazy cold and windy!) We went to Mount Vernon from there, but Mom & Dad & I ended up not staying because of--wait for it--the crowds. My brother and his family stayed, and said they had to wait in line for 2 hours to go in the house there. My parents' joints would not have held up, and my cold would have made me miserable so I'm glad we went on.
Thursday we went back to DC to tour Ford's Theater (I love old theaters, even without the dead president!) and the Capitol. The Capitol freaked me out big time--I've seen pictures, but never expected it to be so HUGE. Huge--seriously huge...Reminded me of the Rome Reborn pictures I'd seen (and I hoped the comparison to Rome ended there.)
We arranged the tour of the Capitol through our district representative in the House, whose children went to school with me and my brother. (His wife also dated my father back before anyone was married to anyone else--we like to tell that story, too.) I was pleasantly surprised to find that our tour guide was one of my old Young Life kids, and he had been looking forward to seeing me. He said that he saw my last name and hoped it was my family...awww!
The Capitol building blew me away on the inside, too. Architecture is one of my long-lost loves, and the Capitol building is absolutely stunning. Tiles, sculptures, arches, ceilings, columns, carvings, doors, moldings...I get all giddy.
Dad and I got to spend some time together at Williamsburg the next day while mom gave her knees a break. I think I got as much of a kick watching my dad get a kick out of things as anything--he's a man of simple tastes and views, and I wasn't surprised that he was into the demonstrations of carpentry, smithing, etc. But he was also fascinated and involved when we were listening to the presentations of colonial courtroom procedures. That was cool for me to watch...
Finally--the trip home: We all made it clear to my dad that we did NOT want to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to drive home, and he didn't press the point. (Foreshadowing--I'll never argue with him about that again.) We left at 10 a.m., took a shortcut to bypass road construction that allowed us a ferry trip across the James River. (I made sure my niece and nephews were clear that a "ferry" was a boat. My first trip on a ferry was a huge disappointment--I thought we were riding a "fairy.") By 4 p.m. we were making great time. We weren't trying to stay together--I was in my parents' Cadillac (mostly asleep) and my brother, his wife and 4 kids were in my parents' minivan. (His car had to have some work done to it just as we were getting ready to leave, so they decided that it would be better to take mom & dad's van.)
Even though we weren't staying together, we were only about 30 miles apart (about an hour north of Charlotte) when the van just stopped. My SIL was able to get it to the shoulder, but it wouldn't crank or do anything. We turned around to get to them, scrambling to find numbers of mechanics who might be open at 4:30 on a Saturday, the day before Easter. Meanwhile, a good samaritan stopped to help them--my brother told us on the phone that they had determined that the serpentine belt had come off. By the time we got there, the good samaritan (Louie) had already gone home and returned with tools. Within a few minutes, he had the belt back on and was able to crank the van. Unfortunately, the water pump was also shot. Louie suggested that we have it towed to his dad's house, 4 miles away, where he could put another pump in.
Seriously?
The tow truck arrived. My mom, me, my SIL and the 4 kids (who had trekked through the underbrush to the mall next door) piled in the Caddy, Dad & brother rode in the tow truck, and off we went. We turned on the street Louie had described, and mom made the comment, "These look like nice houses." Little brick ranches from the 1950s and 60s with neat little yards. And then the truck slowed to a stop in front of what looked like my neighbor's meth lab.
Not making this up.
3 campers in the yard (one actually may have been usable,) 4 dead cars, one dead tow dolly, and a tractor trailer were in the front. I couldn't tell what manner of abandoned automobilery was in the back. The front also had a chicken wire enclosure of Fisher Price playground stuff and dead Barbie cars.
However, as my SIL said, we can't pick our heroes. Louie and his dad had a new water pump in the van within a couple of hours and tried to refuse payment for it. (My brother told them to put the money in their pockets or he'd put it in the yard.) Unfortunately, the head gasket was also blown, so we were back to figuring it out.
It was still my birthday, and I had to perform at church in less than 12 hours, so mom decided that dad and brother could figure it out while we went shopping. I got a terribly cute dress.
4 hours later, we had driven another hour to get an inadequately-sized rental car and returned to put a week's worth of stuff for a family of 6 into a Chevy Impala. (We put the largest nephew and his stuff in the back of the Caddy with me. I had promised him the night before that I would watch a movie with him sometime, so we cashed in on that promise on the road.)
We made it back home at 4 a.m., which gave me a full 2 hours to sleep before I had to get up and shower for church.
As horrible as that sounds, it really wasn't. First, as my SIL pointed out, we had an angel watching over us, albeit a strange one. Who stops on the interstate for a disabled vehicle these days? Those people were truly kind, and we were deeply grateful. Secondly, my parents were quick to point out that even though it was an unexpected, unwelcome expense, we were lucky that it didn't happen in DC traffic. We were lucky that it was a breakdown and not an accident. No one was hurt, only inconvenienced. Third, I'm grateful that even under the stress of inconvenience and fatigue, I have a family that works together and loves each other. No one blamed anyone else, got irritated with anyone else, snapped or lashed out. We were all tired, cranky, and half-delirious, but I ended up being proud of my family. Even my 5-year-old nephew was a trouper. (Okay...he melted down once and I nearly murdered him, but we found a way to make up later.)
So...not an idyllic, restful spring "break," but it was definitely an adventure.
A trip to the beach has to be on the agenda soon...
Saturday night, which seemed like the end of a 48-hour Friday (I had parent meetings all day Friday, a performance Friday night, a parade and more meetings Saturday morning,) my friend Wendy picked me up to take me to the train station here in town to catch my 9:16 p.m. train.
We got there, and she didn't want me to go in. The train station is definitely on the wrong side of the tracks--a dark and neglected side of town. I went in while she waited to check it out, and there were 2 other women in the waiting room. She reluctantly let me stay after she made me take her pepper spray.
Over the next half hour, another couple of families came in. One of them saw the shirt I was wearing from the girls' school/university where I taught in the fall--both parents worked at that school and their son went to a local school where I've accompanied musical theatre. They were on their way to New York.
When the train arrived, we were sorted by destination and given a little hand-written slip with a seat number on it. I was sent to the rear car, and put in a seat right behind the door on the aisle. The row didn't even have a window, and it became clear immediately that this wasn't going to work. The door was broken, and banged constantly (like 80 times a minute.) Because it wouldn't close completely, there was a strong smell of diesel and burning brake fluid. I asked if I could switch seats, but the employee I asked rudely told me that I couldn't because they were booked solid. I was almost in tears--I was exhausted and knew there was little or no hope of sleeping in that seat, and disappointed that I wouldn't be able to see outside once the sun came up.
I wandered up through the train to see where the lounge, restrooms, dining cars, etc. were. The two cars in front of mine were almost completely empty, and the car in front of that was only partially filled. I asked someone else and was given the same answer, with the addition of, "We have a lot of families that we can't split up." (This is a pet peeve of mine--single people discrimination. I paid as much as those mamas and daddies and twice as much as their kiddies.)
I was ready to spend the night in a bathroom when I found my friends from the station--mama, daddy, and son. Two on the right side, and one on the left. They asked me where I was sitting, and I told them of my troubles. Dad (David) said, "Go get your stuff. You're traveling with us now." The ladies behind them said, "Yeah! You can be our family!"
They didn't have to twist my arm. I settled in and started to fall asleep thinking of all the ways I could stand my ground. Once, after a conductor had gone by I looked up and David said, "Don't worry--I've got a good story for them if they ask!" They told me later that only one asked, and she didn't question when they said I was a cousin going to New York with them.
My family was staying in Alexandria, VA, but I was meeting them at Union Station in DC. Here's the funny part: Just after the train stopped in Alexandria, I got a call from my brother. He said, "Are you sitting next to the window of the train?" Yes. "Is your train just pulling out of Alexandria?" Yes. "We're waving at you from the platform of the Metro!" No, I don't have pictures of this.
The week in DC had its ups and downs. It was REALLY crowded. Really, really. My mom and dad don't walk long distances very well, and my long week and short sleep left me feeling drained, so we bugged out back to the hotel before my brother and his family a couple of days. Probably the only real disappointment I had was going to the Smithsonian museum of American History. It looked really cool, but was SO crowded that we could barely get around. I hoped to get back over there later, but never had the time.
As I said, we were staying in Alexandria. I LOVE old places, and we were in the Old Town section, right on King Street. One night I was with my parents on the trolley (or, as my 5-year-old nephew called it, the "Charlie") and we met a couple from Edinburgh. I was oohing and ahhing over the "old" buildings when I remembered that Edinburgh's "New Town" is more than twice as old as Alexandria's "Old Town." Perspective is a crazy thing.
After one morning of putzing around with the whole family in the Air & Space museum and a tour with Mom & Dad of the old postal pavillion and tower (very cool!) I sent Mom & Dad back without me so that I could go 1) buy some NyQuil to both knock out my cold and drown out their snoring and 2) run off to the National Portrait Gallery. (My trips with BB, FFF, and the former future fiance have hooked me on art galleries! I was already suffering from gallery withdrawal.) That place was gorgeous, and the first not-crowded place I'd visited. Heaven. Here's the funny part--I actually got an email from the former future fiance while I was in there, so I got to share that special little bit of the trip with him. Very funn.
I always love Arlington, but it was ridiculously crowded, too. (And crazy cold and windy!) We went to Mount Vernon from there, but Mom & Dad & I ended up not staying because of--wait for it--the crowds. My brother and his family stayed, and said they had to wait in line for 2 hours to go in the house there. My parents' joints would not have held up, and my cold would have made me miserable so I'm glad we went on.
Thursday we went back to DC to tour Ford's Theater (I love old theaters, even without the dead president!) and the Capitol. The Capitol freaked me out big time--I've seen pictures, but never expected it to be so HUGE. Huge--seriously huge...Reminded me of the Rome Reborn pictures I'd seen (and I hoped the comparison to Rome ended there.)
We arranged the tour of the Capitol through our district representative in the House, whose children went to school with me and my brother. (His wife also dated my father back before anyone was married to anyone else--we like to tell that story, too.) I was pleasantly surprised to find that our tour guide was one of my old Young Life kids, and he had been looking forward to seeing me. He said that he saw my last name and hoped it was my family...awww!
The Capitol building blew me away on the inside, too. Architecture is one of my long-lost loves, and the Capitol building is absolutely stunning. Tiles, sculptures, arches, ceilings, columns, carvings, doors, moldings...I get all giddy.
Dad and I got to spend some time together at Williamsburg the next day while mom gave her knees a break. I think I got as much of a kick watching my dad get a kick out of things as anything--he's a man of simple tastes and views, and I wasn't surprised that he was into the demonstrations of carpentry, smithing, etc. But he was also fascinated and involved when we were listening to the presentations of colonial courtroom procedures. That was cool for me to watch...
Finally--the trip home: We all made it clear to my dad that we did NOT want to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to drive home, and he didn't press the point. (Foreshadowing--I'll never argue with him about that again.) We left at 10 a.m., took a shortcut to bypass road construction that allowed us a ferry trip across the James River. (I made sure my niece and nephews were clear that a "ferry" was a boat. My first trip on a ferry was a huge disappointment--I thought we were riding a "fairy.") By 4 p.m. we were making great time. We weren't trying to stay together--I was in my parents' Cadillac (mostly asleep) and my brother, his wife and 4 kids were in my parents' minivan. (His car had to have some work done to it just as we were getting ready to leave, so they decided that it would be better to take mom & dad's van.)
Even though we weren't staying together, we were only about 30 miles apart (about an hour north of Charlotte) when the van just stopped. My SIL was able to get it to the shoulder, but it wouldn't crank or do anything. We turned around to get to them, scrambling to find numbers of mechanics who might be open at 4:30 on a Saturday, the day before Easter. Meanwhile, a good samaritan stopped to help them--my brother told us on the phone that they had determined that the serpentine belt had come off. By the time we got there, the good samaritan (Louie) had already gone home and returned with tools. Within a few minutes, he had the belt back on and was able to crank the van. Unfortunately, the water pump was also shot. Louie suggested that we have it towed to his dad's house, 4 miles away, where he could put another pump in.
Seriously?The tow truck arrived. My mom, me, my SIL and the 4 kids (who had trekked through the underbrush to the mall next door) piled in the Caddy, Dad & brother rode in the tow truck, and off we went. We turned on the street Louie had described, and mom made the comment, "These look like nice houses." Little brick ranches from the 1950s and 60s with neat little yards. And then the truck slowed to a stop in front of what looked like my neighbor's meth lab.
Not making this up.
3 campers in the yard (one actually may have been usable,) 4 dead cars, one dead tow dolly, and a tractor trailer were in the front. I couldn't tell what manner of abandoned automobilery was in the back. The front also had a chicken wire enclosure of Fisher Price playground stuff and dead Barbie cars.
However, as my SIL said, we can't pick our heroes. Louie and his dad had a new water pump in the van within a couple of hours and tried to refuse payment for it. (My brother told them to put the money in their pockets or he'd put it in the yard.) Unfortunately, the head gasket was also blown, so we were back to figuring it out.
It was still my birthday, and I had to perform at church in less than 12 hours, so mom decided that dad and brother could figure it out while we went shopping. I got a terribly cute dress.
4 hours later, we had driven another hour to get an inadequately-sized rental car and returned to put a week's worth of stuff for a family of 6 into a Chevy Impala. (We put the largest nephew and his stuff in the back of the Caddy with me. I had promised him the night before that I would watch a movie with him sometime, so we cashed in on that promise on the road.)
We made it back home at 4 a.m., which gave me a full 2 hours to sleep before I had to get up and shower for church.
As horrible as that sounds, it really wasn't. First, as my SIL pointed out, we had an angel watching over us, albeit a strange one. Who stops on the interstate for a disabled vehicle these days? Those people were truly kind, and we were deeply grateful. Secondly, my parents were quick to point out that even though it was an unexpected, unwelcome expense, we were lucky that it didn't happen in DC traffic. We were lucky that it was a breakdown and not an accident. No one was hurt, only inconvenienced. Third, I'm grateful that even under the stress of inconvenience and fatigue, I have a family that works together and loves each other. No one blamed anyone else, got irritated with anyone else, snapped or lashed out. We were all tired, cranky, and half-delirious, but I ended up being proud of my family. Even my 5-year-old nephew was a trouper. (Okay...he melted down once and I nearly murdered him, but we found a way to make up later.)
So...not an idyllic, restful spring "break," but it was definitely an adventure.
A trip to the beach has to be on the agenda soon...
..NoitHall knows too much!
Well, hmmmm....what have we learned......
