Adventure

Your
assignment, Mr. Perry, if you choose to accept it, is to
travel to Baltimore, then to Washington D.C. Then onto
Indianapolis, pick up a load of baby furniture and drive it
back to Texas.



Sometimes I wonder if I’m just crazy and don’t know it. I
might have mentioned that our oldest son and wife are about
to have their first baby next month. My daughter in law’s
sister was down here for the holidays and mentioned that she
had a load of baby clothes, furniture and miscellaneous
stuff that she’d like to get rid of, but it was too bulky to
ship down here. I thought about the situation for about a
minute or so and came to the conclusion that I could kill
two birds with one stone. I could convince my oldest friend
that we should fly to Baltimore, go see Gettysburg, then
visit all of the museums in Washington, take a train to
Indianapolis, load up the baby stuff and drive back home. An
adventure to be remembered.



That was the plan. It worked like a charm. Well, most of it
anyway.



We flew into Baltimore, got to Gettysburg with it raining,
snowing or so foggy you couldn’t see your hand in front of
your face. If this had been the weather at the time of the
battle, no one would have known who won. The guide told us
that there were 1400 monuments in and around the area. We
counted 1406. Just kidding.



I would be doing the place an injustice to try and describe
this battlefield. You must take my word for it and see it
for yourself. It defies description. Enough said.



We then head off to Washington D.C. and try to cram as much
as we can in the next three days. Don’t even think about it.
We managed to see most of the Air and Space Museum, the
National Archives, some of the American Museum of History
and a number of parts in between. Looking at Archie Bunkers
recliner and George Washington’s sword in the same day will
give you a giant headache. By the time you get to the plane
Lindbergh flew across the Atlantic, you are brain dead and
numb all over. You are a victim of sensory overload. Your
brain just can’t absorb anymore at that time. If someone
were to drop the Hope diamond in front of you, you’d just
look at it and think …”another pretty stone…let’s go home.”
I found the display on the history of socks to be
fascinating. My feet and legs were crying for relief. I was
looking forward to happy hour back at the hotel.



After museuming ourselves silly, we drive back to Baltimore
in a blizzard to catch the train, which takes us back to
Washington. Then we experience the agony and defeat of
modern day train travel. If you haven’t been on a train
lately, think about it again. I managed to book a
compartment, for two grown men, and our baggage. The baggage
wouldn’t fit, much less the two grown men. I asked the
conductor for an upgrade, if one existed. I got a suite,
which allows room for two grown men, and most of their
luggage, but no room to turn around. Take a shower on a
moving train… good luck. You do good to brush your teeth.
These things stop about every forty-five minutes or so, so
you wake up all night long each time the train slows down
and stops in a station. Perhaps I’m being too critical, but
it seems to me there must be a better way to run the
railroad.



Seventeen hours later we arrive in Indianapolis and find a
taxi stand. The only cab driver on hand was a guy who
obviously had been a pioneer in uncontrolled substances back
in the sixties. We know he was an American and spoke English
as we could catch some of the words such as ‘arrested, jail,
and Elvis Presley’. The rest of his monologue is lost for
the ages.



By the time we got the rental van, loaded the baby stuff up
and started back home, we were dead on our feet. Only 1350
miles or so left to drive. I don’t want to say it was a long
trip, but we’d run out of songs to sing about Memphis and
that’s only half way. We were getting very surly and on each
other’s nerves. Home was looking much better with each
passing mile.



Now that a few days have passed and I’ve gotten rested, it
seems a lot better than it was at the time. Lots of
memories, but I’m not in any hurry to do it again anytime
soon. I’d be content to just lie on a beach somewhere and
read about socks.



My wife hasn’t said anything, she just smiles.