Well, there was a wedding, a day trip to Maine, a day miscellaneous stuff, and another day of travel. The wedding was pretty cool, as weddings go. There were family and friends from many different walks of life. There were the folks who are accustomed to being the life of the party, others that aren’t, and many more who fall somewhere in between. There was a cake cutting, a DJ, and a first dance. To my delight there was no chicken dance, conga line, or any other tasteless wedding standby that I could do without. It was very nice, and I wish nothing but good fortunes and happy times to the bride and groom.
If the wedding went well, the drive to Maine was better. I am always surprised by two things when I go to Maine. One, the size of Joe’s family in Maine. Two, despite the families’ size they all welcome another to the mix with warmth and inclusiveness. It was no different on this trip. Beth had a wonderful time playing with her cousins and everyone else had a good time catching up. Our last full day in New England was not quite as nice, but it would have been hard to keep up the pace. On a strictly positive note, I stayed up for the Monday night game and saw the Bucs prevail over the Rams. My day long daze of fatigue and sleep deprivation the next day was well worth it. That brings me to the flight home. What can I say about airline travel that you haven’t already heard? Lets just say that at one point I remember mumbling to no one in particular, “if we have to go through security one more time I think it might be easier to just sell the house back home and stay here.”

So we went to New England. Like any other trip, or any other snippet of life, there was good and there was bad. On our first full day Cheryl, Beth and I went into Boston to see some sights. As is our custom, we took the commuter train into town from Lowell and bought a day pass for the subway in town. We got off the train around 11 a.m. and immediately decided that we were all hungry. We stopped at a restaurant across the street from the Fleet Center/North Station called The Fours. I have no idea what the name means, but they serve good food and even better service. From there we hopped on the T and went to Charleston (across the river from Boston) to see the Bunker Hill monument and the USS Constitution. I consider myself to have an above average appreciation for history, and standing on Breeds Hill gave me goose bumps (Note: the battle of Bunker Hill took place on Breeds Hill – don’t ask.) From there we walked back down the hill and checked out Old Ironsides. For the first time I took the tour of the ship and was once again awed by this close encounter with history. There I was, standing on the deck of a war ship built at the direction of our countries’ first president, about two hundred years ago – simply amazing. From there we walked the public gardens and the Common, ate dinner at Haymarket Square, and let Beth play to her heart’s content at the Children’s Museum. By the time we were ready to get on the T for the last time it was dark. I was prepared to feel more than a little wary walking through town at night. Strangely, I felt at home. Instead of feeling foreboding, the city felt welcoming, almost embracing. We had a spring in our step as we walked to the station, recalling the day that had just past. Considering that we had been on our feet all day, having spring in our step at 8:30 p.m. was some feat, and a testament to the enthusiasm with which we recounted our wonderful day. Alas, even enthusiasm can take you so far as we collapsed on the commuter train ride back to Lowell.