We arrive at Ashara's and find the party hasn't ended. It has only just begun. People playing piano and singing. People playing the guitar and singing. People sitting there talking, or lying there not talking... Jim Lama on the congas (and I thought he was just kidding about that!) Steve Polifka, Michael Paz, Russ (or is it Les? Shame on me for mixing this up, because you are SO DAMN good!) from SF on the piano. A bunch of us standing around the piano singing (for some of us (points to self), maybe just "attempted" singing - is it a crime in Massechusetts? Is there a "state law" against "attempted singing"?) Me, realizing I've brought my guitar but my case is locked and I left the friggin' key back at the hotel, and not wanting to ask to borrow anyone's because I feel so inadequate hearing all the talented voices and instrument-playing around me. I managed to bring my guitar from Toronto to Boston and back, and never played it once, never even opened it. Yeesh! This party ain't never going to end, people. I'm not used to staying up much past 11 and here it is 3:00 a.m. or so and it looks like it's just starting. But some of us old people can't take a lot of excitement, and so, it's time to go. Back to the hotel. In the dark. Three of us, Kerry and Steve and I, are going back to the Daze Inn. Jimmy needs a ride back to the Sheraton (well, lah-di-dah - I was gonna stay there too, but it was all booked up when I tried to make my rezzie!). We have very little trouble, relatively speaking, finding it back to the Sheraton. It stands out like a ruby in a black man's ear. So much so, that we pass it several times, but can't figure out (until we've passed the exit, then needed to find one of those "roundabout" thingies to get turned around again) just how to get into it. We finally make it though and Kerry and Steve and I realize there is NO WAY any of us can figure out how to get back to the Days from there. All I know is (and I'm gonna put this in caps) IF WE CAN FIND OUR WAY TO PETCO, THEN WE'RE PRACTICALLY THERE. So, Jimmy decides to ask the desk guy or the concierge or security guard, WHATEVAH, for directions. He disappears into the maw of the Sheraton Ferncroft. Minutes go by and Jimmy ain't coming back. Kerry decides to go looking for him. Kerry, too, disappears, and Steve and I wondering if they've been swallowed up by the Twilight Zone... Finally, they come back - there's not one person around the lah-di-dah hotel - not even a security guard! - that we can ask for directions. So, Jimmy takes out his cellphone and calls the Days Inn - guess what? there's someone awake there, who gives us directions. Well, I either heard them wrong, or they were given wrong, because we got the first part of it (apparently) OK, but ended up lost again, driving back and forth along god-knows-where. I keep muttering about the importance of finding Petco. We pull into a donut shop. It's 4 in the morning. Steve asks a guy in the parking lot if he knows how to get to the Days Inn. he gives us directions that sound kind of OK, so we set off again. Again, we get lost. Something missing from the directions, perhaps? We pull into some kind of an all-night-something or other. The guy there doesn't know but he says there's a gas station just up the road and someone there will be sure to know. We drive up the road to the gas station. Steve goes in to look for directions. Comes out laughing his head off. "You're not going to believe THIS!" he says. "What?" Kerry and I ask. "The guy says, just to drive straight ahead this way through 4 or 5 traffic lights, til we come to the PETCO, then turn left, then right." Yeah, right. Let me tell you something about Danvers. It doesn't SEEM to be a big place. It appears to be downright rural, but there are obviously lots of people who live there, and lots of them must have pets. As you head towards the Days Inn, you pass "Petsmart" on the right; then a block or so down the road, to the left, is "Petco". They both sell pet food and pet things, and they are both humungous barnlike structures. Just one of the things I noticed about Danvers... Well, we made it back to our hotel. We had left Ashara's at 3:30. We got back to the hotel at 4:30 - what should have been maybe a 15-20 minute ride had taken an hour of driving back and forth and we were quite sure we had entered the twilight zone. I was too wired to sleep, so I read for a while, then turned off my light at 5:15 a.m. Why bother going to sleep at all? I wake up at 7:00 or 7:30 and just KNOW I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep. I also know I have to be checked out of the hotel by 10:00 a.m and sleep-deprivation combined with a tendency to anxiety force me out of bed. I take a shower just to wake up. I go down to the "lobby" of the Days for the "free" breakfast, which consists of Tang (or a Tang-like orange-juice substitute of some kind), coffee (but no real milk or cream, just that powdered stuff!) and a choice of English muffins, or donuts, or other high-fat stuff. I decide the English muffin is the best bet. The only thing they have to put on the EM is margarine (in a squeeze bottle! How weird and gross! I don't think we have that in Canada - if we do, I don't even want to hear about it!) or grape jelly (ewww!) So I toast it and squeeze a little bit of the margarine-like substance on it, feeling a bit queazy, wondering about cholesterol and cancer and so on - squeezable margarine just ain't natural, Martha! I then go back to my hotel room and putter around a bit. Put all my junk in the car. Twiddle my thumbs. Think about going for a walk to clear my head. Decide to forget about it, because I'd likely get lost! Decide to call Kerry and Steve to see if they're up yet. Well, they weren't, but I woke them up - Kerry at least. Like normal people, they want more sleep, so they tell me they'll catch a ride with someone else whenever they get up (they're staying an extra night, so checking out by 10 a.m. isn't an issue with them, and anyway, now it's only 8 or 8:30 or so.) So, I check out, get on the road, drive to Ashara's to see if anyone's awake. It's pretty obvious no one is - not a creature is stirring, not even the dog. So, I go out and sit in the car for a while, wondering if there's some place I should go and hang out for awhile. Wonder if anything in Salem is open - maybe I can go see the witch museum? Buy something for my kids? Just then, I see someone come out of the house - I don't remember your name, but you're from Texas, and you tell me, sure enough, everyone is dead to the world. I figure, maybe I'll just head back to Boston, see some sights there, then just head back to the airport, since I wouldn't have time to go to Atty May's anyway... I set out on the road, but partway to Boston think, "Nah, I wanna go back." This time, I figure out quite easily how to turn around (legally) and head back to Ashara's. Still no one up. So, OK, I'll check out the town of Topsfield, so I'll go left, instead of right. I follow the road down into a pretty little town. I'm sure there is another "state law" that states that EVERYTHING in New England MUST be quaint and pretty. There's a pretty white church in town, and people just coming out from Sunday mass or service, or whatever. I drive a bit further and spy a little shopping mall - there's a coffee place in it, and by golly, it's open! I go in and order a coffee and a bagel. I ask the guy at the counter what time it is, and he looks at a clock that's right behind me (which I hadn't noticed before) and he says, "It's a quarter of ten". Lucky for me I now know where the clock is because I've heard people (Americans anyway) say this before, but I've never understood whether a "quarter of" was supposed to mean a "quarter to" or a "quarter after". I take my sweet time drinking the coffee, and eating the bagel, with peanut butter on it, because I am still wired and shaking like a leaf (I didn't drink anything but water the night before, so it wasn't a hangover, but I do have anxiety problems and not getting enough sleep didn't help.) I need to calm myself down and get my blood sugar to do something close to normal before I can think of what to do next. After farting around there for as long as I could drag it out, listening to the wonderful New England accent of people yakkin' all around me, I get back into the car, and - yet again! - head back to Ashara's. By now it's probably about 10:30 or 11:00 but still, there are no signs of life, and I think, "By the time these people get up, it's going to be time for me to leave anyway", so I decide maybe if I go right back to Boston, I can catch an earlier flight... Which I did. Got back to the rental car place, no problem - they provided directions (good ones) for how to get back and then I caught the shuttle back to Logan - they drop you off right at the doors for your particular airline. It's only about 11:30 a.m. now but I'm in luck - can get an earlier flight, but it's not until 3:30 p.m. So I hang out in the airport lounge for a LOOOOONNNNG time, find a place to buy some Boston souvenirs for the kids (stuffed lobsters - really cute! and some saltwater taffy and chocolates). There's a great view from the airport lounge - big pictures windows, and you can see planes landing and taking off and - best of all! - there's a rocking chair, along with the usual airport seats. A front porch rocker, very New England style, so I curl up there, strains of "Sisotowbell Lane" going through my head, glad I brought my CD player and lots of CDS to listen to. This flight took off on time and made it to Toronto ten minutes early. Coming back through Canadian customs, I am asked for a passport or birth certificate - guess what folks? It hadn't occurred to me to bring one! I tell the Canadian customs guy they never even asked for on when I went through US customs, and hetells me I'm lucky because he has heard some "horror stories" and that I could be detained for quite a while in immigration on either side for not having this stuff. However, I do have my driver's license, and this guy is really cool and nice, and he asks me three skill-testing questions to see if I'm a *real* Canadian. In case you're ever asked, here's what I was asked, "What is the capital of Canada?" "Who is Canada's prime minister?" and darned if I can remember the third one, but I passed the test and he let me through. Pleased to say that my guitar was handled very well and made it back and forth (without being played once) in fine shape. Next time, if there is a next time, I won't be afraid to travel with it on a plane, and will remember about the key for the lock. A few things to remember, if you're ever in Danvers (or anywhere else): 1. The Dodge Neon is a crappy car. It has these stupid headrest things that can't be adjusted (or if they can, then not very well) so that it is very difficult to see behind you - it might help to be tall, but I'm not. It also (apparently) has only three headlight positions - off, parking/running lights, and high beams - no "normal" low beams. This produces frustration in the driver, who begins to doubt her own sanity, and in drivers of other cars, who keep "flashing" you to turn your high beams down. 2. When in Danvers, esp. when staying at the Days Inn, bear in mind that Petco is the centre of the universe. Once you find Petco, you can get anywhere from there. 3. When speaking of time, "A quarter of" means "a quarter to". 4. The people who designed the Massechusetts road systems probably wanted to discourage strangers from entering there. 5. Ashara is The Queen of Queens, and must be worshipped accordingly. 6. JMDLers are the best people in the whole world. The end. Get your free @yahoo.ca address at http://mail.yahoo.ca
