I’m on the hunt for big game. Loaded for bear or maybe moose or even elk. I’m now prowling all of the usual venues. Armed to the teeth, cocked and loaded. Now the beasts that I’m pursuing are more of the four wheeled variety than four legged ones. In short, I am now in the mist of new car shopping. The original plan was that we would grow from a one car family and become a two car one, but instead now it looks like we will be handing the Prius off to Dan. He has assured us that there is plenty of parking in NYC. It will help him get to work.
We have a particular make & model in mind, but I’m not prepared yet to do the reveal. I’ve been spending my days lately with very earnest young men (read car salesmen) and getting my ass yes sired and no sired, to no end. So, stay tuned, this could move faster than expected. Anne has granted me purchase authority.
Whatever you call it, bomb cyclone, Snowmageddon, nor’easter or this week’s “storm of the century”? Whatever you call it, this storm descended just in time for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend’s return home travel crush.
Failure to launch? No way! We’re A-OK all the way. We’ve got a plane. We’re onboard it now. Door closed. Pushing back. Oh wait, we’ve got a hold. We are sitting on the tarmac now, waiting and waiting and waiting. Oh no, we’re going back to the gate. “If you need to be picked-up at the airport, call us…”
They never did call us for a ride, but it was an ordeal. Dan landed first, in NYC, at LaGuardia. David and Maren eventually made it to Logan. Then there was luggage, Uber and finally sleep. Turkey Day travel is always tough, but adding bad weather makes it a whole lot tougher. It was great being all together for the holiday though and we are looking forward to seeing the boys again in just a few more weeks for Christmas break.
Sunday began with a boozy brunch downtown at Rooster. As always, their crepes were great and thankfully on this morning the place wasn’t too busy. Waiting outside in the cold wind would have been a hard thing to do. After brunch we headed over to the City Museum, for some indoor play.
The City Museum is like no other museum that I’ve ever heard of and certainly unlike any that I’ve visited. There are aspects to the place that are like a museum, but they are certainly not its main attraction. Running around, climbing over obstacles, squeezing through small apertures and sliding down, down, down again, these are the things that people come to experience at the City Museum. Blue jeans are required and knee pads are recommended, not your usual museum attire.
The museum is supposed to have a pretty good first-aid service or so I’ve heard. It’s not surprising, considering the whole place is like an accident waiting to happen. I imagine that they have pretty good lawyers too. Almost everywhere you look, in every corner is some example of art that someone, probably a young poorly paid art student, labored over for hours. Sometimes scary, usually weird, the figures all seem gleamed from strange dreams.
Dan ended up with the best story of the day. While crawling through the tunnels, the oldest, darkest and scariest section of the museum, he was creeping along, just minding his own business. A family, with a small boy was ahead of him. Dan waited for them to proceed, before crawling further along. The boy just then happened to turn around and turned to face Dan. At eye level, inches apart, the boy screamed, “There’s a man back there!” Inconsolable by his parents the boy wanted to leave. All part of City Museum’s all enveloping art experience.