Weekend Excursion Part 2

So when I last left off, the Maestro and I had left the Farmington Club. We had driven Maddie, my poor car, to empty. She kindly informed me that we had 11 miles to find a gas station or the world would come to an end. We filled her up just in the nick of time for $4.11/gallon (because everything is twice as expensive in good ol' Connecticut), punched our destination into the GPS and got going. In Connecticut, where they want to make everything a little prettier, apparently they disguise their cell phone towers by making them look likes trees. I think it's a noble attempt, but still somewhat worthless.





The Maestro had made arrangements earlier in the day for us to "stop by" and "visit" with old friends A & B at their home in Bronxville, NY. He figured that way we could break up the trip back to Baltimore into two smaller stretches, a notion with which I could rightly identify. We made it to Bronxville in about an hour and a half and stopped by a liquor store to pick up a few bottles of wine as a hostess gift for A, who was cooking dinner for us. If you ever have a chance to go, Bronxville is super cute. It's about 8 miles north of NYC, and historic without being sleepy.

We pulled into their drive, and the Maestro turned to me and said, "We have until 8 or 8:30 at the latest and then need to get back on the road." When we walked in, A was busy cooking a huge Italian meal. We sat in the kitchen and drank Tanqueray and Tonics while she prepared our dinner and we caught up. By the time B got home, dinner was ready and the 90 degree heat had subsided, so we sat outside.

We toasted to friends and to food.

We talked about the world and the state of crime and music in Baltimore (where A & B used to live back in the day).

We talked about the economy and the state of academia in New York.

We got a little toasted and then started talking about Israel.

...and then just short of 10:00, the Maestro declared that neither of us was in any state of mind or composure to drive back to Baltimore that night. A & B opened their house up to us for the night. They're the epitomy of hachnassat orchim, Hebrew for hospitality (note: I'm not really that smart. Read Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren F. Winner to be able to sound as cool as me). I totally look up to them, and want to be like them when I grow up. Well, grow up more than I am now at least.

At any rate, the Maestro had services to play in the morning and I had a relatively early call at the theatre for a matinee, so taking a leisurely summer drive down to Baltimore in the morning was not an option. That's why we'd planned to drive up to Connecticut and back in the same day. No, instead, we had to drive with a purpose. We woke up at 4 am, and got back on the road by 4:20. Around NYC, we got caught in a random flash monsoon that forced us to put the four-way flashers on for about 15 minutes. When the storm cleared, we stopped at the first service area we could find, but even Starbucks wasn't open yet. That's when we knew it was obscenely early. We watched the sunrise on 95 for the second morning in a row as we drove home. We made it in about 3.5 hours with a 10-minute stop to rest the eyes and get coffee.

We got back to Baltimore just in time to catch up a little with Troy, for the Maestro to grab a quick shower, and for me to drop him off at church (remember? his car was dead). I headed home, filled up with gas again (this time at $3.91/gallon. God bless you, Baltimore!), crawled into bed, and dozed off to Whose Wedding is it Anyway for about 90 minutes. Then it was up, shower, theatre, show, train station to deposit the Maestro, back to Baltimore to see Troy's show, out for drinks and appetizers, and home by midnight.

Yes, three days later, I still don't feel like I've caught up on sleep. And to think... this upcoming weekend isn't going to be any better. Shoot me now.