Archive | October, 2014

Chapter 7: Northern Lights, Midwestern Naiveté

28 Oct

“Is this ok to eat?” I asked the chef standing near the grill.

He snickered to himself, and said, “Oh yeah. It’s good isn’t it.”

“Mm hmm,” I murmured mid-bite.

It was terrific. It was salmon. Fresh North Atlantic Salmon to be exact, and it was delicately seared on the outside and raw in the middle. The chef told me that’s the best way to serve it. He could tell I wasn’t from around here, and that I’d been eating less-than-fresh and overcooked seafood all my life. It made the three-hour stop in Portland all the more worth it.

It was the major stop on a six and a half hour drive from Boston to Presque Isle, and just the welcome to Maine moment I was looking for. Although, the billboard just across the border was a tremendous sigh and sign of relief as I entered the Pine Tree State.  Continue reading →

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Chapter 6: Fourteen Hours to Foreman

21 Oct

“Could you turn that off?” the girl asked.

“Sure, we’ll turn it down,” I replied.

“NO. OFF!!!” she loudly rebuked.

Ok. Fine. Off. And we turned the iPod speakers off.

Gabby, Foreman, and I had been on the roof of Gabby’s Beacon Hill apartment in Boston jamming out to tunes until 12:30 in the morning. We’d just listened to a monologue on my iPod by Jean Shepherd (writer, narrator of A Christmas Story), which we had to turn way up because of its soft-spoken nature. Immediately following on shuffle was Grand Funk Railroad’s “We’re an American Band” which came through the speakers admittedly way too loud for that setting at that time of night. It was like unleashing an air-horn in the middle of church. And the reaction we got was the same.

So we turned the music off and turned in ourselves for the night. It was the right call. I had another 400 miles to go in my trek. Continue reading →

Chapter 5: Head East

14 Oct

“Have you ever fired a gun before?” Alex asked.

I’d never seen a gun discharged before, let alone held one and unleashed its force.

Hesitantly, I accepted the invitation to head back to the range and fire a few rounds once I reached my cousin Rachel and her husband Alex’s house just south of Detroit. I was to spend the night there before continuing on to Boston the next day. In six hours, I’d be bustin’ caps, as the kids like to say.

The Traveling TruckThat thought wasn’t really on my mind, though, as I began my 3 day 1,400 mile journey from Chicago to Presque Isle. I was more worried about the canvas-covered load of furniture and possessions that was in the truck bed of the Ford F-150 I was driving. I had about 19 bungee cords securing the tarp, so I figured my coffee tables and Rubbermaid containers would be ok. The important stuff I had packed in the cab anyways. And boy was it full. Continue reading →

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Chapter 4: ..3…2…1… BLATZ OFF!!

7 Oct

“Well, is it a pull or a tear?” I asked Gen.

My sister had become a wife and a licensed doctor of Physical Therapy in the same week. I was putting her training to the test already to diagnose my dancing injury from the night before. Plus I was family, so the consultation was free.

“No bruising, it’s a little swollen. You probably just pulled it really bad,” Gen told me. Thank goodness. I couldn’t take time to have any kind of procedure. I have to get to Maine soon. I hoped. If not, I’d just keep on applying.

Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst, that’s what I always say. Continue reading →

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