Homeward Bound - A Late Travel Blog

So, week before last, on November 30th, I headed home from Massachusetts after spending a wonderful Thanksgiving week with my uncles Greg and Jim. My van was completely loaded with family belongings, including my grandfather's grandfather clock, my grandmother's china, silver and glassware, ten boxes of family photos, a box of slides, another box of family films and videos, a couple of dining room chairs, my father's old microphones, stands and speakers, a VCR, a printer, a lamp, a huge wall mirror, and who knows what else? (I still haven't finished unpacking the van.)


Usually, the trip TO a destination is more fun than the trip home. This time, however, the trip there was uneventful and not unpleasant, but not nearly as much fun as the first day traveling back.


Let's see... there was the "Girls Gone Wild" tour bus that I passed. It was funny to see such a caricature of American entertainment traveling down the road.

I decided to stop at Hershey Park on the way, which is only about five minutes from the highway and very convenient for anyone traveling that route. It was raining, so the place was nearly deserted. I was told they had been very busy the week before and during the weekend, but around 2 p.m. on a Tuesday afternoon in the rain, not so much. There were no lines, few people, and I really enjoyed the free ride-style tour I took.

They have other things you can pay to do, including chocolate tastings, 3-D movies, and numerous other entertainment options, but I was trying to make sure I had enough time to rest later that night by the time I got to my hotel halfway point, so I opted for the quick and the free.


When I first got inside, I went to the ladies room, and heard a little kid say to his mom in the next stall: "I have so much in me! I have, like, 20 poops in me!" That ALONE was worth the trip. Leave it to a kid to say something so completely honest and so hilarious! Priceless memories are made of things such as this... reminds me of a trip my cousin and brother and I took with my parents to Indiana when we were kids, and all the way home we rolled huge Tootsie Rolls into balls and called them "ploppers", which were supposed to represent round little balls of poop. Yep. Kids love to make jokes about poop, which we did for about eight hours. No wonder my dad died at age 38! (More about the story behind that joke later.)


After the tour, I bought some day-old cookies in the gift shop at the Hershey factory and hit the road again.


When I got to the hotel a couple of hours later, I forgot my car keys in the hotel room, and at the exact same moment I realized it, the Peanuts theme began to play over the intercom. Was this the Universe reminding me that I am Charlie Brown's twin sister? Or perhaps it was an ominous warning of things to come...


Hours later, I went to get something from my car and slipped and fell on the sopping wet floor in the lobby entrance area, and I hear a voice singing "I'm here for you when you fall." Ok. That's some pretty extreme synchronicity, and it gives me the creeps when it happens... makes me wonder if I'm hallucinating. SURELY there couldn't be REAL music playing such appropriate words at such a time? I'd almost RATHER believe I'm hallucinating than to think that the law of averages even once in a while manages to chaotically bring such events together by accident.


I told the woman on duty about the fall and asked her to please move the rug after getting the water up. She said she would. Half an hour later when I went down for some ice, she had done NOTHING. I called her over and showed her what I was talking about and lectured her on how, if someone in their 60's or 70's had fallen as hard as I had, they'd probably have broken a hip or hit their head and died of a subdural hematoma. She acted as though I was a nuisance, which disgusted me further.


I went to the car again to take my bags out so I wouldn't have to do anything in the morning but get in the car and go, and found myself locked out when my key wouldn't work. (Static electricity most likely caused the magnetic strip to de-magnetize.) I had to wait for her to get back down to the lobby from her rounds of putting receipts under doors before I could get back in, and was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to spend the night outside.


The same woman who had nothing but apathy over the safety issues earlier said to me quite snarkily that there was a sign (20 feet away from the door I was locked out of) saying she'd be back shortly. It was a sign someone MIGHT have been able to read five feet away, but most certainly not 20 feet away and through double glass doors.


By morning, I was VERY sore and bruises were already starting to pop up. I hadn't slept from the pain. I talked to the manager, and she let me stay over at no additional charge, which was a nice gesture, but as I told her, the woman on duty the night before was my main concern - I wanted her to be re-trained on safety issues and priorities. When someone falls and brings a dangerous hazard to your attention, I don't care how busy you are, you need to take care of that so nobody else is in danger of hurting themselves. I'm ok - apparently I have VERY strong bones. (Could it be all the cheese, milk, ice cream and yogurt?) But what about someone else who might have fallen and NOT been ok?


I then went up to my room and dropped my key. I bent over to pick it up, and managed to hit my head HARD on the corner of the desk. I wondered if maybe downstairs in the lobby the song "Bang Your Head" might be playing?


I almost lost my head (pun intended) for a moment and started believing that the hotel was a sentient being trying to kill me. Hey, you would too after all of that! Don't deny it!


After getting some rest the following evening, I hit the road again and got back into town around 9 a.m. I went by my grandparents' house to bring them a few things before going home, and discovered that my step-grandmother was selling an old car she no longer needed or wanted the expense of insuring. My roommate really needed a car, so I arranged for that purchase to take place, and of course, ended up spending the entire day on it. (How silly of me to think I would get home in the morning and go straight to bed! Aaaahahahhahaha! That's hilarious!)


Booger was really glad to see me, and I spent some time loving on him. What a great dog. All dogs are pretty great, but of course, to me, no dog is as great as my Booger. I missed him so much, and he literally would not leave my side for days, as though he was afraid I was going to disappear for another week and a half.


So there you have it. My trip home in a nutshell. Of course there was bullshit involved. There always seems to be, but I really did enjoy the first day on the road back.


All in all, the trip there and back was good for me, as was the visit with my uncles. We spent some time down in the movie room watching old videos of the family and got misty-eyed a couple of times at seeing the family members together who have been gone for years now.


Bittersweet memories of the past shared together... it makes the present seem that much more special. Or, as my father said in a poem he published in a chaplet not long before he died in 1985:

To Go Back

The desire to go back

Is a strange one

For I know it cannot be fulfilled

And yet, I'd rather have the desire

Than not

For it places a value on the past

Which is transcendent

To the present and future

Since, in only time

They, too, will be past

A.