Back in Manchester now. Trying to outlab the film for developing and proofs, maybe even prints. Looking for a job and an apartment.

We’ll see how things go.

Photos and stories are at Carpetbagger

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Tired sees to be a continuous existence for me on this trip. The overnight on the 11th really did a number on me. I felt the exhaustion when I picked brendan up from the airport, but it didn’t really hit me till clearwater beach. The hostel was un-airconditioned, humid, and hot. I felt fine at first and we went and got lunch.

Afterwards, my stomach really started to bother me. I could barely keep my eyes open but my stomach hurt too much to be able to sleep. I called Sandy and asked if we could come up there, to air conditioning and not sharing an eight by eight room with three other people. I drove up and by the time I got there, I felt better.

Things seem outwardly okay with the family down there so far, but that may be due to Brendan’s presence. We’ll see when I go back up there.

The drive to Key West took forever (so it seemed).

Key West has and hasn’t changed. It seems much more commercialized that I remember, and hotter than I remember. At night, there’s still the warm onshore breeze that I love and only get hints of when I’m in other places. That’s the part of Key West that I will always love.

I found the old house. One of the owners chose to build a tall wall around the entire property, blocking all of it from view save the couple tallest palm trees. At least I could see the one I climbed on, though I’d like to have seen the two decks and sea grape tree in the back.

The school had changed it’s playground! All of the wooden equipment was gone, replaced by the cushy plastic stuff.

Took the tour of the Hemingway house…definately makes me interested in Hemingway and his career and his life. Poor guy had a serious suicide problem in his family. He committed suicide, but so did his sister, father, grandfather, uncle…a lot of them did.

61 cats on the property!

Sunset Festival wasn’t exactly like I remembered. The cat guy wasn’t there, neither was the guy with the bagpipes. Also, the sun didn’t make an appearance today because of the clouds. That would be MY luck. No real sunset. Very sad.

Tommorrow is hitting the beach for a bit before heading back up to Tampa.

After that, I start back to New Hampshire, hitting Atlanta, Williamsburg, Binghamton, and then done.

Been a long trip. It’s really time to head home.

june 12 photos
june 13 photos
june 14 photos
june 14 b photos

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Driving overnight isnít so bad after all. Of course, I say this at 10 am as Iíve already arrived at the Tampa Airport and am waiting for Brendanís plane to arrive. Weíll see if I really mind it later.

Tampa is a nice airport. Iíve never really spent more than ten minutes in it because I was already being picked up by family. This time, though, said family is in certain angry moods and not returning my calls, because Mom moved out already, even before Aubreyís graduation. I spoke to Aubrey last night, and she hates Mom at the moment, completely taking Dadís side and wanting to know which side I am on.

Iím not on anyoneís side. Dad is acting strange, itís hard to tell how he really feels, but I can tell heís angry at least. Canít go live at my parents, canít live with my mother. Dad and Aubrey arenít paying any attention to poor Owen. Iíve got to find him a good home as quickly as possible, the poor pup.

I had two real rest stops on the drive down. The first was around 5 am just before the Florida state line, twenty minutes or so. Rest areas are really packed at night, I never realized that. Folks passed out in their cars and awaiting more energy and the dawn light. The car next to me had Maine tags, that made me feel better, seeing other Yankees in the Deep South. Itís the second rest that got weird.

I pulled over like I usually do, turned off the car, stretched out, used my hand over my eyes to block the sun, lay my head on my window.

Then looked back up and made sure that all my doors were locked. You never can tell.

After about ten minutes, I feel somethingÖoff. I look up. Some strange old man is standing next to my window, ridiculously close to the glass, ready to tap. Really, if you want to get on my good side, donít tap on my car window at seven a.m. when Iím trying to catch a nap.

The guy has pure white hair aside from this greased-together off-white piece laying across the top of his bald head. His fingernails are badly in need of a trim. Heís wearing a light blue oxford shirt and a tag about the size and shape of a name tag, except his says ìSeptember 11, 2001: United We Stand.î It has a little American flag on it. His trousers cause me a double take, then a subtle triple take: I think heís wearing two pairs, I can see the others above the waistline of the lighter khaki colored ones.

Of course, I notice all of this while heís talking to me.

ìNew Hampshire?î he says, pointing to my front license plate.

I blink. ìYeah.î Okay, Iíll give him the benefit of the doubt.

ìYou going to Disney?î

ìUh, no. Key West.î

ìIím headed there too,î he says. Somehow, I think no matter where I was heading, he was ìheaded there too.î

ìThatís nice,î I say. Mind you, my window is closed.

ìYou and your boyfriend could go up to Vermont, get a civil union up there.î

What?! Oh great, not only has he assumed that I am gay because of my short hair, but he has now assumed I am a gay male. Strike two. The fingernails and hair were strike one. I just look at him.

He keeps going. ìI still have my cherry,î he says. ìNo diseases. Seventy years old.î The number of thoughts and feelings that flew through my head at that point were numerous: disgust, freaked out, bemused. Dear lord, get me away from this man. I look. I think at that point I was still trying to figure out if he really had on two pairs of pants.

ìBut anyway, they donít bother you up there, though there was one guy out of fifty that voted against giving the unions. All republicans, kicked him out.î

Ah. Not making sense. Crazy. Heís well past struck out.

He keeps going. ìAnyway, youíve got to love Jesus,î he says. ìHe was born before AD, so two thousand years will be in 2031 and theyíll come down in spaceships and there will be an ark and all the animals and frozen eggs and spermÖî

For someone whoís a virgin at 70, heís certainly obsessed with reproduction.

He continues. ìAnd the earth will melt and theyíll take our souls and then our souls will be put back in our new bodiesÖî

Inanely, I remember from a theology class that our souls and bodies are never separated.

And he keeps talking. ìAnd then the Jews, the Jews have all the moneyÖî

I point to my watch. ìI need to go.î

ìOh, okay. Key West! Right!î

I start up the car and put it in gear before he actually walks away.

I did eighty and sped down the highway, intent on getting away from the crazy old man who interrupted my nap at the rest area, with the clean, working bathrooms.

Dang. I didnít even get to go.

photos from the day

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