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R. Linda:
So there I was, home from the office, flat-out knackered, and there was me wife all zippy and happy asking me if I had vacation time coming and when was I planning on taking it. Whoa, I thought, too many questions after a full day of hard slog. But she wouldn't leave me be, so I said I had three weeks total and I was taking one full week around Christmas to New Year's and the other two I could take together or one at a time.
Me parents are coming from Northern Ireland near to the fall, so that could be one week. How about I take one just for us in July. Well, this was good Tonya said, she thought a week just for us would be wonderful. Okay, all set then I thought. Teach me to think, I should have remained brain dead because the word us, did not apply to me, her and the two wee ones, no it applied to me, her, the two boyos and her brother and his wife, and her father and his dragon, I mean wife. Oh goody, for joy and all that crap. I was like what just happened?
"We are going camping." Tonya declared all happy-faced.
"Camping? I don't do camping." Says a stunned me.
"Oh, there is a first time for everything." She offers up, like no big deal, walking off to the kitchen.
"And where are we doing this outdoorsy stuff?" Asks me, filling up with apprehension, following her.
"New Jersey." Says she right off the cuff.
"New Jersey? WHERE? The Parkway?" I asked in stunned incredulousness. "Where is there anywhere to camp in overpopulated, ugly little New Jersey?" I roar in indignation at such a repugnant thought.
"Down by the Pine Barrens," Tonya says, hands on hips, ready for a fight. "There are places there and we can take a side trip to Great Adventure or Six Flags or whatever they call it."
"OH . . . a kiddie park." I wanted to put a gun to my head. Camping and amusement parks are high on me list of what not to do.
"Come on Ton, really? Seriously? New Jersey? Where every piece of dirt has a house jammed on it, and people only remember what exit they live off of? THAT New Jersey?"
"Now Gabe, my family lives on a nice stretch of beach in Cape May. You know it isn't all housing and parkway."
I sniffed. I was not liking this, no not at all. New Jersey was Dragon Country for Gabriel. Oh yes, it is and I don't have any good memories of any time I've spent there, especially in Cape May. Okay Victorian house, yes, looks wonderful on the outside until you go into the plastic-covered furniture and someone forgot to take the cello off the lampshades. I just could not bring meself to do this thing, camping in the Pine Barrens, then a thought struck me.
"Pine Barrens? The piney sandy Jersey Devil lives here Pine Barrens? You mean we are vacationing with your mother's best friend?"
Oh, I went too far. Tonya looked every inch her mother looking back at me.
"I know you and my Mom don't see eye to eye, but do this for me. I love camping, Gabe." All said sweetly but firmly and I wasn't buying that show.
"We don't see eye to eye, Tonya, we don't see at all. The woman hates me and on her turf, I be as good as chum to a shark."
"I haven't camped since I married you. It's time."
"Tonya, that's not true. We camped out in our used-to-be front yard, which is now our backyard looking for mailbox-stealing beavers if you will recall."
"Gees!" She said throwing up her hands in frustration.
"Uh huh, you forgot that," I said wagging a finger at her forgetfulness.
"THAT was not camping-camping Gabe. It was night stalking critters who chew down mailbox posts when you were sure it was marauding teenagers or worse our neighbours!"
All righty then. To me, it WAS camping, the closest I'd ever gotten with a tent filled with munchies and mosquito netting. I am a tall, gangly type, not exactly coordinated when it comes to pitching tents, fetching firewood, making campfires, and generally tramping about the woods like I know what I be doing. My idea of camping, is you go, have a good time, knock yourself out camping and hiking, and I'll be happy about that. But not this time, I had forgotten that Miss Tonya was the outdoorsy type. She used to jog when I first met her in Boston. She had gone camping a few times with her boyfriend whatshisname, so all this came as no real surprise to yours truly. The only surprise was who we were camping with. Oi!
Well, came down to the week before this fiasco was to set out. SHE had got everything we needed, sleeping bags, bug repellent (I asked if she had got me some Dragon repellent), Coleman lanterns, beef and buffalo jerky (oh yum), and all manner of camping paraphernalia.
So she gets it all packed in me Saturn, the VW being way too small for all the equipment and us too, though I did tell her she'd do better mileage-wise with the VW and I could stay home and feed the dogs and the cat, but no, she had me old neighbour coming up to do that so Saturn it was.
The next morning, at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. we pulled off for that aching journey of seven to eight longgg hours stuffed in a car to Cape May, New Jersey to meet up with the Abdullah family. SIGH. Once we arrived, I saw everyone else was already there, as they came rushing out to greet us, well greet Tonya and the wee boyos. I was the last to be greeted, but warmly by Ton's father (a short well built stocky type with a perpetual suntan and a million gold chains around his neck and a big arse gold watch on his wrist with a fat gold wedding band on his left hand and a pinky ring with a big blue stone on the other -- yeah the man looked like the picture of a camper to me, un-huh), her taller athletic brother, the petite sister-in-law and lastly a wave of the hand in dismissal by the Dragon-in-law. Yup.
We lunched there because the Dragon figured rightly so, that we would be famished and a bit tired from our longgg trip from New England. Oh, glorious New England! Let me take a moment to backtrack a little. First off, the roads in New Hampshire are superiour to any I've travelled. Well-paved, courteous drivers for the most part, the only problem is the exits and entrances on some of the highways, are in my humble opinion, the most dangerous. They are right next to each other, so when you are looking to exit you have to watch out for the cars entering just before the exit. I don't know who in their right mind designed these exits and on ramps, but they play Russian roulette with the drivers of New Hampshire. Okay, so we get to Massachusetts, the drivers in Mass are arseholes, no debate about it. They would make a seasoned New York taxi driver cry. They are the worst, the most discourteous, the most chatty on mobile phones, texting while driving, reading the newspaper while driving, putting on make-up while driving, all the while completely hogging the road, oblivious to the fact there are other drivers on the road with them. Then there is Connecticut. So nondescript they rate as the most boring drivers in the world, plus I hate driving in Connecticut. For a small state, it seems to go on forever. When we get to Connecticut is when the boyos in the backseat begin the ARE WE THERE YET, which then turns to ARE WE STILL IN CONNECTICUT? Hours of driving time it seems are to be had in Connecticut and the scenery is all the same. Nothing to break up the monotony. We know when we are getting close to the Mid-Atlantic states, suddenly your radio goes hip-hop or rap and the New York accent hits your ears and as you fumble for a station you get all the gore and blood and guts news you don't get in New England. Who shot who, who invaded who's home, who drove by someone and shot them, I mean it is shut the radio off time. And the New York roads are the worst. They are always doing construction by the Tappen Zee Bridge, and beyond. Finally, you get to New Jersey where every freaking driver is going over 100 mph all in a hurry, with the bling-bling and wife-beater Ts and the big-haired overly made-up women looking like hardened harlots and the men like mafia bosses. They cut you off, they blow their horns, they blast their radios and by the time you get to the fifth exit, you the out-stater, are ready for a full-blown nervous breakdown.
So yeah, a bit of a rest from the meltdown of driving down the parkway was in order.
To be continued. I need to get my breathing back down from the memory.
Gabe
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