Banner photo of Larry Eugene Meredith, Ronald Tipton and Patrick Flynn, 2017.

The good times are memories
In the drinking of elder men...

-- Larry E.
Time II

Thursday, July 5, 2018

Our Trip to Maine and Back, 2006

In 1961 Lois and I drove off on our honeymoon. We went through New England, crossed over Ontario, Canada to Niagara Falls, then returned via New York and Pennsylvania. There were no digital cameras at the time. All I had was a Kodak Box Camera and since it was expensive to purchase film and have it developed, I didn't take a lot pictures.

Although we stopped nights in Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Canada and New York, we never went into Rhode Island or Maine.  In 2006 we took a second honeymoon and specifically targeted Maine as our main destination, but also made certain we hit Rhode Island. No Canada this time.  By now, of course, I did have a digital camera, so many more times of photographs long the way and back.

You can look at the videos at your leisure.

We had lunch at The Corner Pug, Elmwood, Connecticut. This time on our first day out, we stayed at Old Sturbridge Village in Massachusetts. We had stayed in this resort on our honeymoon. This is where you see Lois in a pillory on our honeymoon. No such device this trip.

We left Sturbridge the next day and stopped at Mark Twain's home in Hartford, Connecticut. Twain lived there from 1874 to 1891. Harriet Beecher Stowe, author of Uncle Tom's Cabin lived adjacent to Twain's house from 1873 to 1896.

We left the Twain property and had lunch in The Hamptons at  Master McGrath's, Seabrook, NH. Master McGrath's was named for a champion Greyhound. From pug to greyhound, it was like we were going to the dogs.

In the afternoon of the second day we arrived in Maine and toured The Desert of Maine. Did you know Maine had a desert? As evening was coming we headed for our next stop and immediately got lost. I feared we would be sleeping in the car somewhere in a woods, but we came across some golfers who directed us. Seems my AAA map had taken us off the main entrance road back into some scrub country.

We stayed the next several days at the Sebasco Resort on cask Bay. I booked us into the lighthouse apartment right along the coast of the bay.  The lighthouse stands out in several photos. It was also right next to the restaurant called The Pilot House.

On the next morning we drove to Boothbay, Maine to go on a whale watch, but no whale showed up during the cruise. Saw some seals.  Back at the resort we took a trip in The Ruth all about the bay. Met a friendly lobster fisherman while there.

Later we drove to the art museum in Farnsworth. There are a lot of Wyeth paintings on display here. Andrew Wyeth had a second home here in Maine. Of course, Lois bought a print of one of his waterscapes.

After our stay at Sebasco, we drove down into Rhode Island and stayed at a Marriott in Providence. I was out and about photographing the city.  From there we went into Newport, ate at a restaurant next to the Tennis Hall of Fame and then toured the mansions along the ocean highway, including the Breakers, home of the Vanderbilts. A few years later we would tour their home, Biltmore, in North Carolina.

That night we stayed at the historic Hawthorne House in Salem. Salem has a lot of witches museums to visit. The House of the Seven Gables, which Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote of is also there. After Salem we toured the Mystic Seaport in Massachusetts. Back in boats again. I really love bring out on the water. Fist we sailed in a sailboat and then in a steam boat.

We headed home after that, stopping over night in East Haven in a not so nice area. We drove several miles to find restaurant, which turned out to be great although the clientele looked straight out of the Sopranos. The owner was also the waiter and he was hilarious. Soup of the day was Tomato Florentine, but it was right at the height of the spinach scare and no one was buying. He was running about saying we could take a galleon home.

At the motel, my wife wakes me at 1:00 AM in a fright. "A gang in in the parking lot slamming shopping carts into cars," she tells me. "I want to leave. Put the luggage in the car."

"Say what? You tell me their is a vicious gang in the parking lot and you want me to go out there?"

I did go. I didn't see anyone, but she was adamant that we escape, so I loaded the car, dropped the key on the nightstand and we fled. Immediately I was lost searching for I-95. Here it was the middle of the night in a strange place. We couldn't get back in the motel and I was lost.  Finally, by chance, I stumbled upon the ramp to I-95.  At 2:00 in the morning we were driving through Spanish Harlem in New York, where everything was in Spanish, which I do not know. Oh no, this may become the Bonfire o the vanities!

We press on. There is no one else on the road but the drunks, weaving across lanes. I avoid them as best as I can. We arrive home by 4:00 in the morning and almost scare Laurel to death. She thought someone was breaking in.

By the way, it turned out some teenage baseball team in a tournament was staying at the motel. They were running about the place making a lot of noise, but not smashing cars with shopping carts. When I contacted the motel chain, the owner apologized and gave me a free night at any on their lodging. So far I have never went back to that chain.

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

Ye Olde Faire Days

Have you ever been to the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire?

We first went in the late 1990s when the kids were still in school. Noelle had been to it on a field trip and came home raving. She was very much into those things in those days. She drew the dragon on the left.

She talked about it so that we took all the kids there that year and it became a regular family outing. Actually, went beyond just a family trip, because Lois and I still visited the faire in New Hope for a few years after the kids had grown.

Here is a compilation of my pictures over a few faire. My son shows up a few times, especially near the end. The guy with the very long hair.

We haven't been for years. With my present condition it would be difficult, but I would like to go get a Scotch Egg for lunch again.

Monday, July 2, 2018

Old Friends and Old Flames

Over the years of my life I have seen friends come and go. I never had big groups around me. In each phase of my life I had a few good friends, people who I could relate to well and vice versus. Often these came out of categories of life: friends from work, church, school, etc. I had friends I grew up with and social friends I met here and there. Many of my friends were writers, poets, artists, musicians, playwrights and actors. This was true in my days living in Philadelphia and later in Delaware. Many friends have disappeared over time because they or I moved or we changed jobs and some died. Circumstances of the world we live in dictated some of this.

There are some who I can call lifetime friends, knowing them and communicating with them since early childhood, even infancy, to today: Iva Darlington, Stuart Meisel and Ronald Tipton especially. They are some old classmates still in my universe, and even some relatives that were friends then and now and friends not because of blood.

Here is a compilation of my friends from near birth until now when I am mush closer to death. Most are old friends, but some are recent and current.  I have probably missed including some and I apologize' although, maybe they are glad to be missed.

I originally was going to do a second and separate set of my old flames, but changed my mind and just intermingled them with the rest. Some of these were like passing ships and some I was very seriously in love with. Some even broke my heart. Some have passed away; in fact, several, just as several of my closest friends have gone on to some other place than here on earth. Some I have no idea where they may be.

I would have liked to played Simon and Garfunkel's' Old Friends, but you know, copyrights get in the way.

I can leave it with the poem I wrote that gave me the title of this blog:

Time II

Speak of the good days
And all the good times


Time marches on.

Drink the fine vine.
Lift up your cup, be drunk!
The grape was a good year.
Drink long and deeply sample.

The grand year is nearly drank.

Reminisce good times
Over our good wines.
All the good times, if they were,
They are less dead.

The good times are memories
In the drinking of elder men,
As if they exist.

Exactly as if they were.

From the collection, Lost Laughs and Last Lovers