I am in the middle of a truly marvelous adventure. Let me show you it.
My dad lives in Virginia. He is moving to Western Michigan. He had planned to load a trailer with stuff and make a run up the East coast to deliver some stuff to my brother in Baltimore and me in Boston before cutting west to his new place to drop off the stuff. Then he plans to go to a wedding in wisconsin and return home.
I was like “hey, I need to visit Detroit anyway. How about if I tag along with you for the Boston – Michigan leg? We’d get to spend a whole day catching up – you would have company on the drive – etc.”
So, I had a ride to Detroit with my dad. Best birthday present I can imagine. Time is the rarest commodity.
Last night, and came over to the house in Boston to light some candles and drink some remarkably good rum. It’s 21 year old Dominican rum (Opthimus) that we purchased at the duty free store coming back from Haiti. I like to say that it came from the duty free store outside the gates of hell. It’s damn close to the truth.
Anyway, shared that he was driving to Toronto today – and on a whim I was like “you should drive my car, meet me in Detroit, and we can ride home together on Sunday. So, long story short – he took my car and is now in Toronto with my car.
Dad is taking me to the airport tomorrow to pick up an in-town rental before proceeding West. I’m getting the house inspected by the city, and then packing a bunch of shit to take back to Boston because – well – I’ll have my car here on Saturday!
I can hear the echoing drums of the drum circle on the corner – and it’s sweaty and sultry in the city. As usually happens, I am losing lock on what year it is – sitting in this living room. Am I 7 years old, staying with my grandparents for a week while my parents vacation in Toronto? Am I 14, here for a funeral? Am I perhaps 25, here with my mother to carry furniture and clean out her parent’s house? No. I am 35 – and here under my own power … though not at all my *own* power.
Adventure: It’s where you find it.
