Sojourn to the Berkshires Day 2 -- some walks, a dinner, and a play

 OKAY! I'm in the Albany NY Airport, and I've found a perch at the terminal walkway bar table  counter, on a stool with a nice draft local hazy IPA beside my laptop. I have 3 1/2 hours before my flight to DC boards, but I did save a little $ on Bruno the Purple Charger by getting it in a bit earlier than the reservation. 

Yesterday morning I slept in until around 7, grabbed a decent and filling "free" breakfast in the motel lobby, then drove out to the theater to make sure I knew where I was going when I had a curtain time to honor. It's a good thing, because pulling out of the parking lot I went rogue on Waze directions and found a shortcut that bypassed all of the roadwork that slowed down my drive there. I made a note to go out without cell phone directions and to turn on Tacatonic Road to get there that evening. That night, after the play, I drove out at waning dusk onto the road bordered by fields of high wild grasses and lit by more fireflies than I have ever seen in one place. I almost pulled over to video, but decided to save the image in my old brain instead. 

As I have shared before, my mantra is "I am good, I am well, I am healthy I am Happy I am whole." Yesterday I changed this to "Healing Seamus Seamus Healing" and will continue utilizing that for the immediate future. He is healing and he is home from the hospital as of last night, but I figure anything I can do, you know, on the spiritual plane... The benefit of this tack, as opposed to praying, is that no deity, no higher power, needs to hear and respond. I am certain it is at least as effective. After all, if there is one God, she must be checking those mantras, right?

Okay, I'm getting all non-linear again. Jimmy and I talked about that at breakfast this morning. He cam to the hotel and we took Bruno ("because your car is cooler") up less than a mile up the road and ate outside at the Rio Cafe. Really good stuffThanks for breakfast, buddy, if you're reading this. Who is linear anyway? "Oh, there's a dandilion. Oh, that thing I did in high school." Right? But. That discussion was today, and we were talking about yesterday.

Let's pop in a picture to break things up, shall we?

After breakfast see ya later hug at the Rio Cafe

Okay then. After leaving the theater on my scouting mission, I hit downtown again, and found a place to park at an entry point to River Walk, an attraction that came up early in my searches. It was attractive enough, and everyone needs to see it, but it turned out to be only maybe a city block long. I took some video along the way, and a couple pics--note the two of a dark barn with a bright little something in its darkest region, then the close up. Class, folks, that's class. I wish I'd got a pic of the road-facing wall of the building. It's just an old barn with two big doors and nothing else, but I can imagine families starting here, on a cool fall night with the disco ball fracking the room.

I walked the little downtown, saw some cute shops, refrained from buying art at some really inspirational studios, took a pano from a corner, and noted the location of The Well, a restaurant and bar I had my sights set on for the next night's preshow dinner. 

Okay again. First little thing after my scouting and my Riverwalk aside was to head up to Housatonic Flats. I pulled into the parking lot with only one more car there. It's been quiet in GB during my stay. Jimmy says they are getting big weekend tourist hits, but luckily my stay was Wed-Fri. Here's Bruno at the trailhead. I was hoping it was a bit longer than a city block. But, it calmed me down nicely. 

Bruno the Purple Charger at the trailhead

I checked my shoelaces and hit the trail. 

Trailhead at Housatonic Flats

Flats sign with explanation. It's a buffer, ya'll.

Trailhead sign closer and clearer

First bench stop with an aside trail to the river

Two dandelions

Pano at the river, click to enlarge-o

I just liked the color here and think it might be fun to paint

And a video... Ducks, ya'll...

It was a quiet, wonderful walk. The trees are taller, older, up here, I think. And the tall wildflowers grow taller before they dry and turn to seed, as they are doing in Tennessee as I type. I just cut mine down in my little back "yard," though I really enjoyed the Queen Ann's Lace and the tall clover that I let run out its time in my "meadow," as I like to call it.

I drove back to the motel and after an hour in the pool with an intervening hot tub soak (excellent power in those jets, Fairfield Inn by Marriot). I took a nap. I got into my nap by meditating on my new mantra, "Healing Seamus Seamus healing." With the help of a phone alarm (I left my iWatch charging at home. I hope it's good for it) I got up, showered, dressed, and drove.

At the Great Barrington Community Theater, Bard College Daniels Cultural Center (say that three times really fast), I parked and moseyed inside, where my ticket was awaiting me. I jacked into the play, which I thoroughly enjoyed and believe is going places, but will not review here. No photos were allowed after I took this one 

of a couple audience members (Sandy and friend, as I found out later) awaited the dimming of the lights. Turns out it was a preview performance with opening night tonight (as I write from the airport). There were only about 20 of us in the small theater audience. That's all good. It was spectacular, and intimate, and I enjoyed emersion in the world I only peripherally experienced. Jimmy called me the day of the diagnosis. I remember it so clearly--I was helping a kindergarten teacher, Mary McCullough, set up her classroom printer and begged off that to go to a corner of her bright, welcoming, kindergarten classroom to talk and to weep a bit. I do that, and it was certainly all right to do that day. From my perspective as a retired human person, I now know that the right thing to do was to fly out there. I did not. I wish I had. Jimmy and I have talked over the years, and I didn't get far from Seamus's recovery, but neither did I really get close to it. Regrets. And healing, which this trip generated, at least a little.

"Leave your Fears Here" is  a "Rememberer" play, a Father play, and a play everyone should experience. I got to meet both Robert Egan and Michael O'Keefe, sat next to Michael for the preview performance. More on all that later. 

That's freakin' it! I'm ready to fly om the morning. I am ready to be home. I love you, Jimmy. Keep plugging into that impressive piece of writing you've created and bringing it alive. You are going to awaken a whole new audience to this kind of journey and its kaleidoscopic complexities and contradictions, and to your beautiful son, to your beautiful soul mate, and to your beautiful self. I love you.

Sojourn to the Berkshires Day 1

 Good morning from the Berkshires, Great Barrington, Massachusetts, particularly. I'm going a-walking this chill morning. I'll start a little travelogue here and update it to keep records of images I'll collect in my travels here. The entire Google album of my little sojourn will be archived here.

It's only a two day trip, as mentioned in my previous post, but one of my new goals in iPhotography is to collect images I may want to paint in the future. 

Tuesday I walked my best buddy Watson and tossed him into Casper the Friendly Kia to take him to K9 Logics, his home away from home, for fun on the farm. He initially wanted to drive.

No, Watson, you may not drive Casper the Friendly Kia

In the afternoon I met my dear bud Rocky at Tailgate Headquarters for a bite to eat and a beer, capped off with a cigar. After an early to-bed, Lee Ann and I were up by 4:30 so she could drop me off at BNA for the trip.

I made my away through the crowded airport through security and after grabbing a turkey tomato sandwich at the high tech Amazon islands (how cool to register your handprint to a credit card, get want you want, and leave without any further interaction with a cashier--bye-bye jobs) boarded a 7:07 AM American Airlines flight to Albany, NY, via Chicago, IL. The first flight was on a 737, so I crossed my fingers a lot. All good excepting the flight was around 40 minutes early arriving and we sat on the ORD tarmac for 45 of that awaiting permission to dock. I had around 30 minutes left to snag my flight to Albany. That turned out to be on a teenyplane, you know the ones with two seats on the right and one on the left and not enough headroom for 6-footers. I power-walked and they were just calling Groups 6 and 7 to board when I huffed up to the gate, which was about as distant from my landing gate as they could make it. That flight was fine, just cramped for leg room, and I made my way to the car rental tables only to find the Enterprise booth empty, with a sign on the plexi telling me to "Please proceed to the Alamo, National rental station in the parking lot." 

I did so and the nice attendant-of-many-rental-services, Sam, who gave me my options. There was a Dodge Charger, a Toyota Camry, and a Kia Forte. I asked Sam which one he would pick, just for fun. He unhesitatingly said, "I would personally take the Charger. It's sporty and a little ballsy, you know, a muscle car, and not too hard on mileage." I did. Little did I realize it would get even better. I walked the way Sam pointed and found the purple car:

Bruno the Charger

What hat a lovely drive down southeast to my motel. Here are two quick snaps I took whilst the car was resting:

Waiting for his master's voice! Nipper is patient.

One of those bridge-is-one-lane red lights

I made it to my motel around 3:00, after winding through blue highway small towns and enjoying the view at every turn. I plan to take my time up to the airport for my late afternoon flight on Friday and see what I can see in some of those towns. Though I see on the news that beaucoup holiday flights are being cancelled all over and I should give myself 3 hours at the airport. 

I got settled and drove out to explore a little and catch that late lunch I needed, landing at the picturesque and friendly Barrington Brewery and Restaurant only a couple long blocks away from the Fairfield Inn by Marriot where I am staying. I caught a beer at small but cozy bar

 

and after Jimmy called to say he was on the way I moved to a table where we could talk privately. We hadn't seen each other in 7 years--since my lovely daughter Miranda's wedding in Nashville--and I got a little weepy for a number of reasons when I got my long delinquent hug. We sat, talking for a bit. There have been some complications that I gather could have been much worse (thank you, universe, for it not being that) that have precluded Riad, Jimmy's beautiful wife, and Seamus, his son and my godson, from attending, which was the plan. I won't elaborate here, and though I am disappointed to lose those hug opportunities it is what it is, and everyone is predicted to be okay. These complications bring an oddly absurd level to the performance I will see tonight and which Jimmy will repeat for every night for the play's two week run. I am certain it will be powerful however it goes: One accomplished actor, around 2 hours, ~11,000 words, in the small Leibowitz Black Box Theater at Bard College, taking us into the present tense beginning 12 years ago in the family's hospital "home."

Jimmy had to leave to run lines with his director, Robert Egan, and to get some rest. I got a selfie, finished my delicious BBandR fish and chips, and headed back to the motel to get some rest myself. I slept pretty well. Got up this morning for the "free" breakfast, came here to blog. As you know, I'm committed to adopting that habit more consistently. Enjoy it or not, it's my "book."

Here:

Me and Jimmy, a few years later; see previous post

More later. It's 9:12 in the morning and I'm going Great Barrington exploring.