It’s been a few years, I think, since I’ve written a “tales from the road” post, but I spent a total of 13 hours in the car this weekend driving to and from the Baltimore suburbs, and so of course I have lots of thoughts I want to share, chief among them, I never want to spend another minute in my car as long as I live.
But I assume I’ll get over that. The trip was exactly as long as you’d expect a summer road trip down I-95 on a Friday and then returning on a Sunday to take; it was my mistake for thinking that by leaving a little earlier each way, we’d actually have smooth sailing.
Anyway, some mostly-coherent thoughts from my brain as it slows down from the mind-numbing traffic on the Jersey Turnpike, and beyond…
— I have many favorite things of travelling in highway traffic, but my favorite has to be the one guy who thinks he’s a genius, and he’s going to cut from lane to lane to lane to try to go 7 miles per hour, while the rest of us are going 5 mph. Yeah pal, you’re really getting there A LOT faster.
— Not going to name the hotel we stayed in, because it’s new-ish (opened in February) but wow, do they have some work to do. Among other things, I called three times last week to make sure they gave my mother-in-law a handicapped accessible room, near an elevator. This is a basic, regular request hotels get all the time, and never have we had a problem with a hotel honoring the request.
Until now. They put her and my father-in-law in an allegedly handicapped accessible room, about 500 feet from the elevator. Literally, only one other room on the floor was farther from the elevator. Apparently when we inquired, they said that’s where the architects put the handicapped accessible rooms.
I weep for such stupidity. Anyway, we won’t be going back there.
–It used to be just about impossible to eat healthy at a highway rest stop. I have to say that while I’m not exactly saying rest stops have become Whole Foods, they’re much, much better than they used to be. You can actually, you know, get a salad or a decent sandwich and some fruit.
— Spent the better part of three days in Maryland and didn’t see one Orioles hat or jersey. Can’t be easy being an O’s fan these days.
— Finally, a trip highlight that pretty much made the whole adventure worth it: Went out for dinner Friday night at a local spot in Owings Mills to celebrate the annual date of my birth. Tucked away in the back of a medical office plaza, in a spot you’d never find unless you knew it was there, was a gem of a restaurant my aunt recommended. Linwood’s had fabulous appetizers, outstanding seafood entrees, and a couple of desserts (a blueberry tart with vanilla ice cream, and some dark chocolate S’mores) that were outstanding. If you’re ever near Baltimore, highly, highly recommended.
Just don’t drive down from New York on a summer weekend. You’ll never arrive.
**Next up, a very short video starring a duck, a doggie, and proof that animals are often a lot smarter than we think.
Smart duck, indeed.
**And finally today, more proof that people are just giving up when it comes to finding a mate, and doing incredibly silly things.
The Washington Post recently reported on “pheremone parties,” where single people try to find their perfect match by smelling them.
Seriously, this is a thing now. Check this out: You sign up to attend one, and organizers send you a plain white T-shirt that you’re supposed to sleep in for four consecutive nights, to capture your pheremones.
Then you put it into a ziploc bag and bring it to the party. When you arrive, you put a number on your bag, and put it with other bags. Then guests walk around smelling different shirts and writing down which ones smelled the best to them, and then, theoretically, matched them up with the person who liked their scent as much as you liked theirs.
Or something like that. This whole thing is very freaking weird to me. Can’t people just talk to each other in a bar or restaurant anymore, or is that too much trouble?