Long day. Long drive. Long Island.
Oct. 6th, 2012 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblogJust landed at a residence hotel about 8 miles or so from the race start- the same one Eleanor and I stayed at several times when we visited friends and family with Emily when she was very little and her entourage of playpen, portacrib, stroller and such wouldn't fit in a standard hotel room. I saw a couple of families with kids of similar age offloading their packs-on-their-backs into the elevator and realized, they're a lot easier to transport for a weekend when they're 20.
The Day One drive was relatively quick, rain-free the whole time, and a gorgeous leaf-peeping fest of reds, oranges and especially yellows as I headed east and south. Only three odd moments marred the travel:
* Em calling, to tell me that someone got into their (apparently unlocked) car outside their apartment last night, and rifled around, not taking anything they can identify, but still scaring them by just the possibility that they're being checked out. Locks will be locked; lessons have been learned.
* Stopping for cashon a snowy evening at a Binghamton-area ATM, I saw a pickup truck parked diagonally across the entry lanes of the drive-thru, both the (unopen) teller lane and the one for the drive-up machine. Unsure of his intentions, I did a full 360 around the building to see if they had a walk-up one in the lobby, and when they didn't and he still hadn't moved, I cut around both lanes and backed up to the drive-up one. I was a good 30 feet away from him and was miles from hitting him, but he got pissed that I'd cut in front of him, honking and giving me a surly "WTF I was just LOOKING at something!" "Yeah, and I was looking AT you looking at something for two trips around the damn building. I'll just be a second, have a nice day!" Fortunately, no more shots were fired from either glare or gun, and I never got roadraged getting back on the highway after that.
* I did, however, get roadlectured, making a gas stop an hour or so later going into a town just over the line into PA. As I crossed the bridge leading to the border, cop lights came on behind me, and he directed me to the other side of the bridge, and, coincidentally, the other side of his jurisdiction. He claimed I didn't stop long enough at the stop sign at the end of theuniverse village (and state) border, so all he could do was "educate" me. I made no fuss and cleared his village once back in the Good Ol' S of NY without any further affronts. Later, I realized I'd probably been distracted by a bounce-house-sized Halloween scardedy-cat that the early October revelers had already put out on that corner of their corner lot. Wonder how Barney Fife feels about aggravated deflation.
Almost exactly eight hours after turning off of Transit Road, I turned onto Hempstead Turnpike and into an Italian place that we've been going to since I was close to my grand-nephew's age. It's now run by my generation of the fam- by a guy who graduated from my high school in my year, but who, sadly, I do not remember. The food was great as always, as was the company:
My niece and her running partner, who I've already run into at least three times here at the hotel. Nicole thinks it's because I'm her guardian angel. As long as it doesn't involve locking cars, getting cash or stopping at stop signs, I think I'm up to that;)
The Day One drive was relatively quick, rain-free the whole time, and a gorgeous leaf-peeping fest of reds, oranges and especially yellows as I headed east and south. Only three odd moments marred the travel:
* Em calling, to tell me that someone got into their (apparently unlocked) car outside their apartment last night, and rifled around, not taking anything they can identify, but still scaring them by just the possibility that they're being checked out. Locks will be locked; lessons have been learned.
* Stopping for cash
* I did, however, get roadlectured, making a gas stop an hour or so later going into a town just over the line into PA. As I crossed the bridge leading to the border, cop lights came on behind me, and he directed me to the other side of the bridge, and, coincidentally, the other side of his jurisdiction. He claimed I didn't stop long enough at the stop sign at the end of the
Almost exactly eight hours after turning off of Transit Road, I turned onto Hempstead Turnpike and into an Italian place that we've been going to since I was close to my grand-nephew's age. It's now run by my generation of the fam- by a guy who graduated from my high school in my year, but who, sadly, I do not remember. The food was great as always, as was the company:
My niece and her running partner, who I've already run into at least three times here at the hotel. Nicole thinks it's because I'm her guardian angel. As long as it doesn't involve locking cars, getting cash or stopping at stop signs, I think I'm up to that;)