[Reprinted from September 29, 2017]
Lows in the 40s and highs in the 60s. We checked the weather forecast before we left home. Consequently, I didn’t pack my shorts, Keens or T-shirts. It wasn’t that I was purposefully attempting to camouflage the fact that I have a brother in Oklahoma who has helped orchestrate a change in my appearance. I figure, when in Rome (or Maine), do as the Romans do. I assumed that most people would be wearing long sleeve shirts.
When we stepped outside the airport in Manchester, NH, yesterday afternoon, I sensed that my logic was flawed. For one thing, I didn’t see anyone else wearing a long sleeve shirt. I don’t know what the temperature was, but it felt a lot hotter than the 60s.
I guess it falls under Murphy’s Law, but everyone waiting in line for a rental car was at the Alamo Rent-A-Car counter. Guess which car rental company held our reservation? I know, “That was a no brainer.” An hour later when I was finally standing in front of the counter, the first question asked of me was: “Would you like to upgrade your vehicle selection?” For $80 additional dollars, we could be driving a Toyota Camry. I don’t know what car I reserved, but I figured it couldn’t be a lot smaller than a Camry. No sooner than I said “No”, than I found myself second-guessing my decision. Before I could articulate that I changed my mind, the person asked if I’d need a toll tag. Before I could say “No”, she suggested it would be in my best interest. For $19.99 I could have the tag and then the only additional charges I would receive related to the actual toll charge. Of course if I opted to do it the other way the subsequent toll charges I’d receive about a month from now would be laced with hefty- administrative paperwork charges. Enough said - I opted for the toll tag.
As it turned out, the bicycle-built-for two that I had rented was fire engine red. It was a Chevrolet Sonic. Did I mention, I’ve refused to drive a Chevy Impala from car rental places before because I didn’t like the looks? Small and ugly are the two best words to describe the Sonic. Small, ugly and red was going to be our chariot for the next week. The General is flying back home on Monday, but I’m in Boston through Friday for a training session.
No sooner had I started the car and headed out of the parking lot breathing a sigh of relief that all of our luggage fit in the trunk, the General asked: “Where are you sunglasses?” Of course, they were in my backpack in the trunk of the car. So I was stopping to retrieve my sunglasses before we even exited the airport. So where were we headed?
I asked the General to check with Siri for a restaurant location. She declined saying, “Let’s just drive and see what we find along the way”. In an age of technological advances, why would we take that approach? I thought it was a mistake, but I learned a long time ago that it seldom pays to fight with city hall. The sound of Doris Day singing “Que Sera Sera” went off in my head. The word “Whatever” then flashed across the horizon of my conscious thoughts. I didn’t articulate it, but I realized I was becoming my son. When he was in high school and I’d offer redirection to something he wanted to do, he’d shrug his shoulders and say “Whatever”. I always processed “Whatever” as a being somewhat disrespectful. I figured the General would as well, so I kept my “Whatever” shielded from her hearing. Just thinking it proved my point.
I had entered the location we were going in Maine into my cell phone. The map was in place and we were on our way. “I bet it is illegal for you to be holding a hand held device” were the next words out of the General’s mouth. As I handed her my phone, it was like forfeiting my last thread of independence. I was no longer in the driver’s seat even though I was in the driver’s seat.
Eventually, she laid the phone down on the two-inch-wide middle console (I told you it was a small car) and I retrieved it again. I noticed the battery life was almost exhausted. I needed to charge my phone.
If you’re thinking the wiring I needed for re-charging the phone was in my backpack. You get the prize. Fortunately, there was signage for a rest stop just up ahead. I pulled over and once again retrieved something from my backpack. That was the catalyst for a wonderful discovery.
The bicycle-built-for-two turned out to have a radio with the “Apple Car Talk” feature. Once I plugged my phone in for charging, the map selection already highlighted on my iPhone appeared in the 7-inch screen inside the car. “Perfect” was the next word that came to mind. I now had my phone back, a display screen that I could see for myself and a voice other than the General’s giving me driving instructions. It was a “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” kind of experience.
We didn’t see the array of colors along the highway that we had expected see. Apparently, it has been short-sleeve shirt weather in Maine. Consequently the leaves have yet to turn.
I did encounter a new experience last night. It falls into the category of: “When in Rome do as the Roman’s do”. Initially, when a friend made the suggestion that we order oysters on the half-shell I said: “Thanks, but I don’t eat oysters.” No sooner had I declined than I realized that I’ve never eaten an oyster. How did I know I wouldn’t like the taste? After all, I’d never tried one. I decided to at least make an attempt. Isn't that what a mature person would do?
The General couldn’t be coaxed. She wasn’t doing that. It turned out to be a delightful experience. We ordered three different types of oysters indigenous to Maine and the taste was superb. It was a coming of age experience for me. After all, I’ll never be 70-years-old again. I haven’t yet done it all, but I’m on my way. It is all about the adventure.
All My Best!
Don