What kind of places in your travels do you find most relaxing?

Ruth and I are now well into the third week of our Eastern state road trip, enjoying a well earned rest and cooler weather in the resort town of North Conway, New Hampshire. There’s nothing flashy about the front side of our motel called The Golden Gables Inn. But around the quieter back portion where our room’s located, the well manicured grounds interspersed with beautiful trees, creative artwork and the pleasing toots of passing trains provides some solitude at this latter part of the trip that we so desire.  Check out some photos I took from this lovely motel “getaway”.

I might further note that the main reason I chose North Conway as a stopover in the first place happened to be its reasonable  proximity westward to the White Mountains of New Hampshire and eastward the Atlantic Ocean shorelines of Maine. So it’s good to know we will be well rested as we side trip in the next two days to each of these locations. For we will be traversing some rugged topography along winding country roads.

Know that some major decisions must be made as we travel south, heading back to Florida next week. Do we try to save time and stay east on the densely crowded I- 95 corridor? Or do we add more time and distance to our trip and head back in a more interior, zig zag meander from Pennsylvania through the Appalachian/ Blue Ridge Mountains? Of course, there  will always be the weather to consider as well. In any event, we will be up for the challenge. 

In what ways do you imagine life as more appealing if could have experienced growing up during your parents or grandparents times?

“I love the nostalgic myself. I hope we never lose some of the things of the past.“ (Walt Disney)

In the original Twilight Zone TV show from the early 1960s, there’s an episode whereby a frustrating advertising executive, stressed out by modern urban life falls asleep on a train and wakes up in the late 19th century in a peaceful community called Willoughby. Check out an excerpt from this show in the link below.  

https://youtu.be/ca0dGWbXJxk?si=FkAMFkJ63-GHLAd-

So it appears that such a nostalgic opinion of small town America past centuries ago influenced how I felt during yesterday’s road trip excursion to the open air expanse of the Shelbourne Museum near Burlington, Vermont.  Know that with over thirty nine buildings showcasing New England daily life in the past, I seemed consumed primarily by three exhibits that portrayed a happier version of America than I am experiencing in my country today.     

I noticed for example at the circus annex how exciting it must have felt when the 1950s traveling circus  entered town to showcase its “ big top” spectacle. Nearby, an authentic carousel built in the 1920s also enticed me to climb aboard a “hobby horse and playfully “giddy up”, round and round to my hearts content. Such longing for the past feelings I experienced today intensified as well during my interior tour of the massive  steamboat Ticonderoga, Being originally used  for passenger crossovers of Lake Champlain between 1906-1953, I seemed noticeably engrossed by its portrayal of leisurely luxury for travelers who boarded the ship during this time of operation. 

Our vintage Vermont tour would conclude today with a short walk along a boardwalk corridor of Church Street in downtown Burlington. Along the way, I noticed an old  photograph of this area from the 1920s. Immediately then such glorified viewpoints of the past that I obtained before at Shelbourne  somehow vanished away into a cloudy dust of rashly premature wrongness. For I suddenly realized that the horse and buggy era of movement in American city society back then seemed more unpleasant than I’d so impulsively believed Enjoy the photos. 

“I like living…Just to be alive is a grand thing.”(Agatha Christie)

How do you best re-capture the spirit of childhood play of summer?

Click the link below for some ideas.

https://youtu.be/j9P-CvqczKg?si=oBJSJYN0KxMT0iCv

You’ve already read I hope my previous two blogs where our road trip plans were severely disrupted in the last few days by the untimely arrival in central New York of Tropical Storm Debby’s heavy rain and high wind conditions. To compound this problem, I did not desire to be stuck in our motel room for an undetermined time in tiny Walton N.Y on Friday when the town lost electricity, internet data, and water service yesterday in early afternoon. 

So after an extended wait without any signs of any resolution , Ruth and I agreed  to pack out and head north around 5:00 pm. to the nearby Oneonta/ Cooperstown vicinity to seek alternative housing. Unfortunately at our price range, nothing was available to book in any motel we inquired with in the area. So we needed to expand our search to more faraway location choices. That meant driving at night for a few hours to the larger locality of Syracuse, which would offer more choices to “bed down” for two days so we could maintain our planned road trip schedule.     

Such a Syracuse move proved to be a good decision. For we could now engage in leisurely free play the next day watching wild animal antics at the beautifully decorated Rosamond Gifford Zoo and cheering for the home team as a spectator at a New York Mets, minor league baseball game.  Enjoy the following photo tour of our unexpected fun day in Syracuse last Saturday.

What summer music concerts have you most enjoyed over the years?

One week from today back in 1969, the Woodstock Music Festival took place in the quaint, Catskill Mountain setting of Bethel, New York. I suppose that I’d envisioned that iconic event in the back of my mind when we booked a concert on our road trip to see the band Phish in an open air amphitheater nearby the original Woodstock site. Yet as had happened in  1969, the countryside Bethel vicinity still presented formidable challenges with regard to parking, lodging and road access to efficiently handle the thousands of people who would be attending the three Phish concerts scheduled this weekend.

So we hoped our relatively inexpensive motel destination in  Walton, New York sixty some miles north of Bethel would somewhat solve this problem. For we’d anticipated a leisurely drive in early afternoon  to the concert followed by a relaxing opportunity to just “hang out” on the designated concert lawn in hippie-like fashion for a few hours before Phish took the stage. Perhaps there would also be something going on at the  adjacent Bethel Woods Center For The Arts to capture our pre concert interest. 

But the real story for us on this day would become the rapidly intense approach of Tropical Storm Debby inland across Central New York with 50 mph+ winds and flooding conditions. No doubt this unusual weather anomaly contributed to reports of over an hour and half backup of traffic in all directions to Bethel town. When our secondary market tickets on Ticketmaster neither qualified as refundable or tradeable, we simply had no choice but to cancel out on tonight’s agenda and “eat the tickets” so to speak.

So for those who still choose to head to the concert, I would imagine it’s going to be quite different than 1969. For can this new  assemblage of Woodstock concert goers once again find peace and love sitting in the  mud covered  lawn section as they  try to sing, dance, and smoke pot in the pelting rain? Be my guest!

For added interest below, I did manage to take some photos of our cornfield motel environs and downtown Walton before the weather deteriorated.  

What precautions do you normally take for immediate weather emergencies? 

I’m taking a nap at my cousin’s house in preparation for a likely long night of Guardians baseball at Progressive Field in Cleveland, Ohio. I know there’s an 80% chance of showers on Tuesday night but with my trusty poncho to use,  I figure that’s no big deal to watch in person, Cleveland Guardians baseball . All of a sudden I hear loud ringing alerts on my phone of an imminent storm approaching with possible tornado warnings upcoming. Take cover immediately the message repeats over and over!

Within minutes, the bedroom windows suddenly shudder as I hear pelting rain and high winds abruptly arriving.But I just figure the bad weather  will soon pass so I wait for the next lull in the storm before setting off for the game via Cleveland’s RTA rail connection. I arrive at the train station and  notice people milling around the parking lot in apparent disarray.I join the melee and quickly find out that the entire RTA system has been closed indefinitely  because of property  damage blocking the train lines. One teenager yells out we must  all drive to the stadium and many others seemingly agree and form a convey of cars heading to the stadium.

Know that with some reluctance, I too move cautiously through the storm by car a few miles to the stadium downtown and thankfully park my vehicle in a  a relatively cheap parking lot nearby. A few other committed fans then join me to batten down our rain gear for the slow walk through mud and muck as expected. I  know the game will be delayed as the tarpaulin covers the field when I pass through the entry gate.

Finding some relief from this weather predicament, I notice hordes of baseball fans like me have also chosen to be here tonight not knowing how long the rain delay will last or even whether the game will be played. So I’m resigned to just wait at my upper deck seat mummified in my poncho, watching one squall after another pass through the area. Finally, around two hours later the game is called. 

After returning back to my cousin’s house , I hear reports that the local neighborhood  has been severely damaged by toppled trees, downed  power lines and widespread electrical blackouts. Yet I will return eagerly  tomorrow to the stadium  for the upcoming day game rain or shine. For sheer joy of the game for me will always overcome any obstacles I might face along the way.

What do you think it feels like to be a victim of racial prejudice?

“If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”`Desmond Tutu)

During my childhood years, growing up in the Cleveland region of  Ohio, the game of baseball first arose my interest with regard to the issue of differential treatment of races in American society. I loved to collect baseball cards from current teams but wondered why so few black players were found in each set of cards I bought. When I first took extra interest in what would become my team, the Cleveland Indians, the few black players I I read about were given somewhat  “shady” nicknames like Mudcat Grant, Minnie Minoso and Satchel Paige. Why couldn’t reporters just call them by their real first names I thought? During those Indian games I began to watch on TV, I usually questioned why the managers, coaches and baseball fans of each team were all white as well.

So you might say I owed it my myself to study up further on the subject of baseball’s history of racism in our country by taking time to view the Hank Aaron exhibit at the  Atlanta History Museum last Friday on day three of our road trip. For I wanted to learn more about Hammerin’ Hank (as both a person and a player) who entered the major leagues in 1953 at a time well documented when those few black players allowed  in the league endured the cruel wrath of racist verbal abuse and the threat of physical violence on a daily basis. I might also conclude that such rampant discrimination against the black race that existed in Major League baseball at the time forced Hank to begin his career playing for low pay and poor working  conditions as a member of the Miami Clowns team in the Negro Baseball League.

Thus, it’s rather obvious to recall from this visit that Hank best answered those racist calls with his extraordinary skills as a hard hitting outfielder for the Milwaukee/Atlanta Braves. For  over a twenty three year  major leagues career, he would carry the honored distinction of surpassing Babe Ruth’s all time record of 714 home runs, achieving a lifetime batting average of .305 and participating in a record 25 All Star games. 

Yet it’s important to also note that Hank Aaron’s legacy exists  today far beyond baseball. In this manner, I might reflect that that this timely Atlanta excursion  coincided with an event titled “The Hank Aaron Invitational”whereby hundreds of African American school athletes from the area gathered together there to pay homage to his life that day. I can best imagine then that Hank would have wanted to speak that day, exhorting to these aspiring sports youths that they could best handle anticipated  racial barriers in their lives  by taking advantage of every opportunity that comes their way. Here’s some photos from that visit that I found most interesting about Hank. Hopefully they will arouse some interest toward making equal treatment of races matter. 

 

What do you typically like to do at the beach on a hot day in summer?

When it comes to “hanging out” with people in outdoor public gathering places in Florida during August it’s important to consider the weather when you do so. So I might have considered more clearly the oppressive heat and humidity along with the lack of wind movement during our brief stay in St. Petersburg area as an omen to consider as our road trip  vacation began. Very simply, it seemed irrational to consider casually conversing with strangers sitting on park benches, sea walls or picnic tables as anticipated at Pass – A- Grill Beach under such torrid conditions. For the most part as well, they simply were not there. Even the local  birds seemed to be hiding under trees to avoid the those powerful sun rays that so heated up the day. Thus with some regret then, Ruth and I both reverted to our I – Phones to best manage our minutes of idle beach time today.

How do you typically handle encounters with “special needs” individuals? 

“True happiness is really only to be found in sympathetic sharing.” (Johann Wolfgang Goethe)        

In my last blog, I reported that I would begin a “Third Place” experiment whereby I would prioritize spending more “quality time” with people in local gathering places on our next road trip. So let’s begin with my brief interactions involving a troubled adult man I encountered at McDonalds Restaurant recently in my hometown.

FINDING THIRD PLACE #1

I like to eat breakfast at a nearby McDonalds a few times a week. The employees are friendly and some interesting people watching takes place when I’m munching on my meal. Lately, I’d been noticing a formally dressed gentleman of potential  “special needs” interest as he slowly limped on each occasion to his seat, ordered  nothing and then proceeded with sad eyes  to stare obliviously at the windows for extended periods of time. 

So I obviously felt shocked a week or so afterward when in fact I saw this odd man now dressed in his casual  McDonalds uniform slouched forward behind the order counter and with kind of a slurred lisp, said hello. So I told him I wanted my usual order of an English Muffin with scrambled  eggs, one butter, and a senior decaf coffee. Staring at the cash register at my request,  he displayed nervous confusion and seemingly did not know what to do. Fortunately his antics caught the attention of the restaurant manager who kindly took over from him and quickly punched out on the register my order request. As I waited a few minutes for my coffee to brew, I observed with interest that the besieged server started pacing around the seating area with a scared look on his face.

With my teacher instincts honing in, now seemed the time to take action. So I yelled out from my seat to get his attention and then engaged in some brief “chit chat” with him to hopefully calm him down. Being under less pressure to fulfill his job duty requests behind the cash register, he gave me surprisingly candid answers about how felt about his job while I commended him for his hard work efforts. With good reason, this troubled man probably will not last much longer at McDonalds but at least I’ve given him a moment to believe in his self worth that day.