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30 Days with George Part 3
America / Canada
July, 2003
Saturday, July 5th - Yarmouth to Frederickton
We got up early and snacked cheese and crackers for breakfast and George made some coffee in our Skippy Peanut Butter jar for the road. It was a fine drive, about 8 hours back up the coast. We arrived in Frederickson about 4:00PM and drove around to check the place out. It was an odd town, a really big suburb going down this hill and the downtown was at the bottom next to a big river. There were only two main streets in the downtown area, King and Queen. I found a phone booth and gave Kelly a call but there was no answer at either of the phone numbers she gave me.
"Why don't we just get a hotel," George said to me.
"No, letis wait, I'm sure she will be home. She expects us. How about we go for a little dinner."
"OK, how about Kentucky Fried Chicken, I just want a couple pieces of chicken."
I had seen a KFC up the street so we went there ordered some food and we sat in the place and ate.
After dinner I tried Kelley again and got a hold of her. We could stay at her Grandmother's who had recently gone to a home. We would have the place to ourselves. I was really stoked. She gave us directions and said she would meet us there.
When we arrived we were greeted by Kelly, her boyfriend Rob, and their two friends, Joey and Jennifer. I think George remembered Kelly and the rest of the gang was really happy to meet George. Kelly had told them about her time at the Bookstore, so they were fascinated to meet such a legend.
We sat and chatted in the Kitchen for about half an hour. During that time Joey sat down at the table with George and rolled a joint. When he was done he lit it up and asked George if he smoked pot.
George smiled and said, No I don't do any of that stuff."
Then Joey started to go off, "Mr. Whitman, you're not going to believe this but we have met before. It was in a dream I had. I have met many people for the first time in my dreams."
George looks over at me and lifts his eyebrows and Kelly laughs a little.
"No really, we met in your store," he continues.
George buts in, "I'm really tired, and it seem that you are about to have an episode, so," looking to Kelly, "Could you show me to my room?"
Joey is bummed and walks outside. Kelly and I laugh and get George's stuff and go upstairs.
When we entered George's room his face really lit up, "I get to stay here! This is the best room I've seen this whole trip!"
It was really nice. It was Kelly's Grandmother's room. All old colonial style furniture and a big double bed. It looked a lot like Walt Whitman's room that we had seen earlier in the trip. George was really happy. We left him to read and relax.
That night Kelly was singing with a group downtown so we all got ready and went to the club. It was great. Kelly sang backup and the leader of the band was one interesting chap.
He was a Vietnam War draft dodger and came to Frederickson in the late sixties and lived in the forest outside of town with another draft dodger. He built himself a tee-pee and lived there for over 20 years. He later built himself o house on the land and was now married with children to a 20 year old Canadian girl. Wow, what a life.
They played 3 hours of old country music that sounded a lot like Neil Young. Kelly sang in about half of the songs so when we became bored, she Rob and I wandered around to some other bars.
It was a really fun night and I knew George had fun too.
Sunday, July 6th - Margarita's in Frederickson.
It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. I got up early and went to the store and bought eggs and bacon for breakfast. At least George didn't complain when I made food.
After breakfast Kelly and Rob gave George and I a tour of the town. First we went to their two main bookstores. One of the guys was familiar with our bookstore and gave George a warm welcome. George smiled and gave him a brochure and invited him to visit us in Paris. The stores had mainly new books and not any cheap used so we didn't buy anything.
After the bookstores we went to a great cafe and all had Ice Cream. We ate outside on a bus stop bench and George enjoyed Kelly telling him about the wonderful time she had in our Bookstore in Paris.
George was anxious to get back to his killer room so we went back and dropped him off.
After that they took me to a couple waterfalls in the area. It was really nice and relaxing. George had I had been together in the same room for the last week so it was good to get some time off. Not that I didn't enjoy every minute with the old man, but every once in a while you need a break. The forests surrounding Frederickson were really beautiful and we had an excellent day.
I proposed a Margarita party in the morning so after the waterfalls we went and purchased the tequila, strawberries and lime and went back to Kelley's. Joey and Jennifer came over and we had a nice little Margarita Croquet party. When it got to dark to play, we went inside and talked about Kelley's Fete du Mutton incident in Morocco. They had all heard the story, but I gave them my account of the evening chronicled earlier in this document. They were all fascinated.
"I never thought I would ever meet anyone who was actually there!" said Jennifer. "What do you think was the cause?"
I said something like, "I'm not sure, I think she drank too much and was freaked out by the dead sheep."
They all disagreed. They were all convinced that it really was a spiritual experience. They all were very earth and spiritually oriented, white witches of Canada. I wasn't going to dispute it. It was one of the strangest things I have ever seen.
After the big discussion we got out my guitar and jammed some songs. I played them "United Divided" and they all loved it.
What a great evening. Just what I needed, a little break from the intensities involved with hanging with George.
George stayed in his room all night and was well rested when we departed the next morning.
Monday, July 7th - Norway, Maine and Old Orchard Beach
A fine day travelling down the eastern seaboard. Our first stop was Norway, Maine. This is where one of George's Grandparents lived. George wanted to go there to see if we could find the house where they lived. On the way down he told about his grandparents and here are the details as best as I can remember them.
One side was a Sea Captain and wife. After the Captain retired, he started a factory in Boston that produced brushes and other stuff. He was, "A very successful and wealthy industrialist," as George put it.
On the other side his grandparents were from Norway, Maine. That Grandfather was a minister at the Church of All Souls. They were fairly poor, but they did own a summer home near Orlando, FL. George quotes, "Which was very rare for a poor couple from Maine." Both sets of Grandparents spent every summer in Florida.
When we arrived in Norway, George was a little disoriented. We drove around for awhile looking for landmarks that George recognized. Everything had changed so much he found it hard to get his bearings. I didn't take him long and we found the street that his Grandparents lived off of, and then we found the actual street itself. They lived at #9 Alpine Street.
Unfortunately the house was gone, probably replace by a Rite Aid Drug Store that was now on the block.
George spent a lot of time visiting his Grandparents in Norway so the neighborhood was very nostalgic for him. As we drove around, George saw some old railroad tracks and told me to pull over so he could take a look.
"I used to come here and watch the train go by twice a day. My best friend would meet me here."
Then he pointed to a house across the road, "He lived right there in that blue house!"
"Wow, so you have always loved trains. Tell me about when you used hobo the rails in America, did you ever get kicked off?"
"I was a hobo in the thirties. I once got caught by the conductor who taped my head with a Billy club to intimidate me, but he didn't throw me off. I heard stories about guy that got throw off a moving train but it never happened to me. They always waited until the next stop kick you off."
He told me that he made several trips from Salem to LA in combinations of hitching and hopping the rails. What a fantastic life he has led.
George then told me about how in the summer he would walk from Norway to Portland, which is over 50 miles. He then would continue and walk all the way back home to Salem. He said that once his Uncle stopped to offer him a ride but he refused.
"I just wanted to walk," he said. "I refused rides all the time."
His amazing stories never end.
We drove around Norway to try see things other things from his past, the Library, some restaurants, the park, etc. I estimate that he had spent most of his time there in the late 20's and early 30's so things had really changed. As we approached a place knew, he would look and say, "Nope, that's gone too." I think the only building that was still standing was the old Public Library.
After Norway, we headed to Portland. There we got off the freeway and drove around the harbor. He was familiar with the city and we stopped a little restaurant on the water for lunch. We both had clam chowder and George rehashed the story about working on the Fishing Trawler out of a dock that wasn't far away. He really didnit enjoy that job!
After lunch we headed to Old Orchard Beach. George said that he used to go there and that there would be lots of cheap hotel rooms available. I wondered, but he was correct.
Old orchard reminded me of a resort town on the Jersey Shore. A long strip of cheap hotel right on the beach. The town was crowded with tourists but there were still many hotels with vacancies. We checked a few places and found a nice lodge. George talked the lady down to $55 a night so he was really happy. After Yarmouth, George always went in to get to prices. No matter what, he could always talk the people down. I thought it was really amazing. He truly was the master of the road.
After we put the bags in our little cabin we took a walk down to the beach for the sunset. It was a nice beach, fine white sand, nice little cottages along the shore line and lots of people walking around.
"Look at this," George said smiling while spreading out his arms. "This is much nicer than that beach of yours in New Jersey."
He was egging me on.
"Youire crazy!" I reply. "This place may be nice, but the water is freezing and look at it, they never get any surf. And our sand is just as fine!"
George didn't reply, he just whispered, under his breath, "Much nicer, much nicer."
I laughed and he looked back at me with a sly smile.
We walked until the sun set and then we returned to the hotel.
This was not a good night. When we got back to the hotel I called my grandmother and she told me that My Uncle and his Girlfriend made her "Promise" that I wouldn't stay there that summer. I had been staying there every summer since I quit my job and my plan was to go and stay there again after George went back to Paris. This was the only home I had left in America. My parents sent my Brothers and me to live there every summer of my childhood and my Grandparents became much like my mother and father. Now I have my uncle bullying my beloved Grandmother into saying I'm not welcome. It was insane! I told my Grandma that I wouldn't cause trouble and that we would discuss it when I arrived.
After the call I went back out into the kitchen to make some food. George is sitting watching TV eating peanut butter and crackers. I grab the bread from the bag and it was starting to mold. The cheese was also getting dried up.
"George, I'm going out to get some bread and cheese, do you want anything?"
George explodes, "What's wrong with the bread we have?" He walks over the food bag, grabs the cheese and shakes it at me "And what's wrong with this cheese? You are so wasteful! You just want to throw everything away!"
I was not in the mood.
"Youire a fanatic! The bread is moldy and that cheese is crap!" I yell back. "I'm going to the store, if you don't want anything that's fine!"
He growls at me and I grab the car keys and split. I was really used to this food scene, but I was so mad about my home situation, I really blew up. I could have easily just said I was going for a ride and got some food, but, in anger, I decided to be confrontational and it was a bad move.
As I drove around I felt bad about leaving George like that. No matter, I still went to the store for bread and cheese and also picked up a six-pack of beer.
I knew my nerves where wearing thin so I decided to drink a few beers and listen to the radio in the car before going back in the cabin.
When I finally went in George was already in bed in the back room so I went back and closed the door. I turned on the TV with the volume down really low and started to cook myself some grilled cheese sandwiches.
The next thing I know, George comes running out of the room, goes into the bathroom and starts puking. I cringe. When he comes out I ask if He's Ok and he says, "No, I'm fine, don't feel well that's all."
He goes back into the room and I continue dinner. I finished my cheesers and while I was eating them he runs back out and pukes again. I don't really hear a splash and wonder what is going on. He returns to the bedroom with out looking at me. I'm going crazy. I'm a little worried, but also think he is putting me on. He's probably just mad that I left after yelling at him.
After dinner I got out my last beers and watched TV. Next, I hear some serious stomping going on in the back room. I go back to see what's up. George is standing there in the dark next to his bed doing who knows what.
"George, what's up man, are you alright?"
"No, No, I'm fine," he says softly. Then he gets into bed says, "It's past 11:00PM isn't it? Got to get up early tomorrow."
"OK, I'll got to bed soon, just let me finish my beer."
I go back out and sit down and within a few minutes he starts with the big groan, "Hunnnghhhh!" over and over again. Even through the door it was really loud.
That drama king! This is insane! He wasn't going to stop until I went to bed. I laughed to myself. This man really knows how to get his way. I guzzled down the rest of my beer, turned off the TV and went to bed.
Tuesday, July 8th - Boston and Cape Cod
The next morning George was fine and we got an early start. The incident of the night before was forgotten and we both sat down to little breakfast before we left. We had a few eggs so I made us fried eggs with toast and George made the coffee. George didn't even complain about the new bread.
We had eight days left and George wanted to spend them in Boston doing research in the Public Library.
Boston wasn't far so we decided to take the coastal route instead of the main highway. George was really blown away by all the strip malls.
"Look, all the houses are gone! Typical America! It's crazy! Never ending little rundown stores! And all those horrible capitalist chain stores. Itis horrible! It was nothing like this when I used to walk this road on my way to Boston. People used to come out on their porches and greet me. Look at it now!"
I looked back at him, smiled and said, "Yep, progress."
George was really happy when we finally arrived in Boston. He got a twinkle in his eye and said, "Isn't this a beautiful city!"
First off, we parked and went to the travel center that was in Boston Common. George was mad that we had to pay for parking but there was nothing I could do. There was no parking on the city streets so we had to find a lot.
"It's crooked, paying to park." George protested.
After going getting hotel information at the info center we took a short walk around the Commons. It was a really nice day and there were lots of people strolling around.
"Ah, isn't this beautiful." said George. "I would walk through this park everyday when I was going to Boston University." He also told me that the park was the center for big political debates that were occurring in the early 30's.
It was nice to get out of the car for an hour but soon enough we were back on the road for the big hotel search. I knew this would be intense so I just sat back and let George do the navigating.
We started by driving around the Back Bay area. George was sure that this was the cheapest part of town.
"We should easily be able to room for say, $10 a week!" he said.
I just looked at him and smiled. Why burst his bubble.
There were no hotels in the Back Bay area. Just lots of tall brick apartment buildings. George was searching feverously. Every time he saw an "Apartment for Rent" or "Room for Rent" sign he would yell, "Stop here, I want to check the price!"
I assured him that those places were only rented by the month and that there was no one to stop and talk to. "Look George, see how all the signs have phone numbers, you have to call them."
He would shrug and say, "Letis keep on looking!"
Finally, he's convinced by intense protests from me that we would have to find a Hotel.
He really wanted to stay in walking distance to the Public Library so we start to check all the low budget looking hotels in the area. First we try the Midtown Motel, $99 a night, way too much. Then we go by the YMCA, $65 a night but we would have to pay for parking so that's too much. I figure that if the YMCA is too much we are really in trouble.
"Look George, let stop and use the phone. This Brochure has a number for 1-800-BHOTELS and they guarantee the lowest rates."
He agrees and we find a phone booth. The cheapest place they have is $75 a night and they have free parking.
I return to the car and tell George. "At the airport? We can't stay out there, we need to be near the library!"
"But George, there's a Subway entrance right next to the hotel. It's only 10 minutes from downtown." I knew this was going to be an issue so I was prepared. Nothing Doing.
"We can't stay at the airport." George replied.
So I have a brilliant idea, "Why don't we go back to the YMCA, we'll get a room and I will drive out to the airport, return the car and we won't have to pay for parking."
George thinks for a moment. "No, because maybe we'll want to go to Cape Cod tomorrow."
George had talked about going to Cape Cod when we were in Paris but this is the first time he had mentioned it during the trip. I'm starting to get worked up.
"Look, why the hell are we trying to stay downtown, where we know itis expensive, when you want to drive out tomorrow. What were doing makes no sense. Why don't we go out and stay in Cape Cod tonight and we can drop off the car tomorrow?"
He pauses, looks over to me and says, "Well, I wasn't planning to go to Cape Cod but if you want to go, Ok."
Absolute insanity. But I'm happy because we were finally going to be out of the city traffic. I find the 93 and we were on our way out of town. I wasn't sure where I was going I just followed the signs towards Cape Cod.
There was an info center along the Highway and we stopped and got some brochures. We decided that we would stay in a town called Hyannis. When we got there we drove around looking for a place. Here we go again. We stopped at a couple hotels in the Downtown area and they were both over $100 so that was out. Then George decides we should stay at a B & B so we drive towards the beach. We passed quite a few cheap looking Motels on our way but George didn't want to stop. Finally, near the water, we find a place that looks suitable to George so I park and George went in to check the price. Itis a nice little Victorian B & B.
After 5 minutes George comes out triumphant, "We'll stay here, I got, them down to $50. And it's really nice!"
I'm happy that we finally found a place he liked. Then we both go in to register. I give the guy my credit card and he says, "Is a queen bed Ok?"
"Just one bed?"
"Yes, for $50 I can't give you a room with two beds."
I look over at George and he is smiling. Crap! I'm a bit bent out of shape but what could I do.
He gave us the key and we went to the room. It was really small, but at that point I didn't care. We dropped our bags, changed and went down to the water for a swim.
It was a pretty far down the road so we drove to the Beach. It was really nice. The water was around 70 degrees and it was really shallow. George swam/walked for about 10 minutes and went back and relaxed on the beach. I went out about 100 yards until the water was over my head then swam back. It was great to be out in the ocean after such a long way driving.
We went back to the hotel to rinse off and change and then we went out for dinner. George wanted to go to a place he got a flyer for that was in Falmouth called The Hearth and Kettle. I had no objections.
On the way we passed lots of hotels with vacancies and I started to harass George.
"Look at that place, $65 for two beds. I would pay the extra $15 for a bed!" After I pointed out a few more places in this manner, George erupted.
"Ok, I'll sleep on the floor!"
I felt ashamed. I sheepishly replied, "Ok, sorry, I won't complain anymore."
The restaurant was really great. We got a table overlooking a little pond and George was really enchanted.
"Look at this, nice view, happy people, I finally feel like were on vacation!" He said. I was thinking to myself, "Man, after this vacation I will really need a vacation!"
When we got our menus, George noticed that all the prices on the menu he got at the info center were $1 less than the real menu. He showed me, smiled, pounded his fist softly on the table and said, "I want to talk to the Manager!"
The dinner was really good and on the way home we got some softserve ice cream. George had never had soft serve but I knew he would like it because it's kind of like a really thick milkshake on a cone.
We got back to the room and things were much less dramatic than the night before. I wrote in my dairy and George read. The floor was comfortable enough and I was asleep before George turned off the light. I was a nice restful evening with out any groaning.
Wednesday the 9th - Taunton and Boston
This was a big day and I was excited. First we were going to try to find the location of George's first bookstore in Taunton and then we were going into Boston to find a hotel and drop off the rental car. I was looking forward to getting rid of the car and definatly would not miss driving around looking for hotels. But, I was sad that out trip was coming to a close. One more week in Boston. Even though George can be difficult, the good moments we had made the bad moments seem like nothing.
What a great night of rest. We got up around 8:00AM. George took a shower and I went out to the Continental Breakfast and got us some juice, croissants and coffee. Before we left George prepared our road coffee. Man that coffee was addicting and it only took him two minutes to make it. Sweet and strong was the name of the game.
On the road to Taunton George and I discussed the antibiotics he had taken during the trip.
"Those antibiotics worked for the first couple days but then they did nothing," said George.
"But they did work, I mean look, youire not coughing up the yellow flem anymore."
"No, they didn't work, I'm still a very sick man."
"Well, if youire feeling really sick I can always change your flight and you can go home early."
He raises his voice, "I'm not going home early! I was just talking. Geezze!"
I smiled at him, "Really man, youire a lot better than you were and thatis what counts"
Then he changed the subject.
"Well I'm still worried about my daughter and how she will run the bookstore."
"Of course you are, that's normal. The bookstore is your heart and soul. Don't worry, she will do a good job."
"I don't know...." he said fading out.
When we arrive in Taunton it was rainy and we couldn't find Broadway. George's first bookstore was on 20 Broadway. We drove for awhile until we finally stopped at a cafe for directions. We were very near. On the way he told me about the store.
It was called the Taunton Bookstore and he opened it in 1946. He didn't have much cash so he slept in the back of the shop. He hired one employee, a girl named
Alice. During that year he bought two pedigree collies and they lived with him at the store. When he decided to close the store and move to Paris he took one of the dogs with him and gave the other to Alice. Unfortunately, George's collie died of distemper while in storage in New York City on the way to Paris.
It was exciting when we found the address. George said the place hadn't changed much. I took his picture in front of the store and then we went inside. The place was now a photocopy store.
The current owners were a middle aged Ukrainian couple and they not only did copying, but also printed books in Russian. George introduced himself, "Hello, I'm George, I used to own this store back in 1940."
They both were really nice. They came from behind the counter and shook George's hand.
I said, "George now owns Shakespeare and Company in Paris, a very famous bookstore." Then I handed them a brochure.
They then told us they where immigrants from the Ukraine and that printed Russian books.
George really liked them. He said in Russian, "I sell Russian books in my store in Paris."
They were flattered and surprised he spoke Russian. George then invited them to come and visit and we left. On the way to Boston he reflected and said, "Sometimes I really don't think that well. I should have stayed and talked to that couple longer. I'll bet that man was in the Russian army against the Germans! And now there publishing Russian books! We should have stayed and talked to them. Sometimes I don't think!"
Our visit was a little short, but George is really shy in social situations. I smiled at him and said, "Man, that was cool to get to see your first store. That couple was really nice. No worries, maybe they will come and visit us!"
George wasn't buying. He tightened his lips and shook his head.
We still had a lot to do that day. George wanted to go to some bookstores and then we had to ship out the box of books we purchased at the Restless Spirit in New Jersey before dropping off the rental car. And, of course, we needed to find a hotel.
When we arrive in Boston we drove back down to the Boston Commons. George wanted to go back to the info center to see if he could find additional hotel information. It was raining so I decided top drop him off and then go park the car. He was waiting for me in front of the center as promised. I brought him a raincoat to wear but he refused.
"Common Man, itis a bit cold, put the jacket on, I don't want you to get another cold."
"No. No, I don't need that, let's go to the bookstores."
He led us down a couple streets to the Brattle Bookstore. We went inside and browsed and he found a couple books he really liked. I had him pose in front of their Life Magazine display and it turned out to be one of the better photos from the trip. When we bought the books he asked for a booksellers discount and gave the kid on of his Brochures. He wasn't so impressed but did give us the discount.
Then we went to the Post Office. Luckily there was one right across the street from where I parked the car, so I grabbed the box on the way. The book rate was really good and we mailed the books for about a dollar per pound.
Next we had to find a hotel for the week. We had checked all the hotel prices the last time we were in town so we drove directly to the YMCA. I again suggested staying at the airport that was only a few more dollars than the YMCA, and probably a much nicer room, but it was useless. George really wanted to stay at the Y.
When we arrived at the YMCA I parked illegally in a red zone at the back door and George went in to see if rooms were available. He came back out and said that they had room, but we would have to wait until 3:00PM to check in. It was 2:40PM. I decide wait in our illegal spot. If the cops came I would move and we would return at 3:00PM.
While were waiting George decides to get out of the car and wander around the alley. I implore him to get back in the car in case to cops come but he ignores me. Then he walks around the corner and disappears. The YMCA is on the edge of Northwestern College so I figure he's wandering around the campus. Ten minutes go by, itis now past 3:00PM and still no sign of George. I'm really getting nervous. Where the hell could he be! I get out of the car, run around the corner and he's nowhere to be seen. I run back to the car and figure I have to wait with the car so it doesn't get towed. Then things get worse.
A Security Guard from Northwestern shows up, stares at me parked illegally and then goes down the street about 10 yards and gets on his radio. Crap! I really don't want to move without George. Then a foot cop shows up and starts to talk with the Security Guard. The Security Guard points in my direction and then gestures around the corner in the direction that George went.
I'm really freaking out. No George and I think in no time the cop will come over and tell me to move. Then the cop gets on his radio and the next thing you know a squad car pulls up. They all start talking together and then the Squad Car Cops gets out of his car and starts to walk in my direction. I think, "Crap, where the hell is George!" This is really pissing me off!
Just as the cop is half way to my car I see George walk around the corner. I jump out of the car and motion to George, "Common Man, there are police here and I have to move my car!"
He looks at me, ignores my words and says, "They have a really nice cafeteria around the corner. Very reasonable prices!"
I look at him, shake my head and escort him back to the car. When we arrive, the cop comes up to me and says, "Do you know this man?"
I'm really confused. "Yes, he's with me, we are just waiting to check into the YMCA."
"Oh, Good." he says chuckling. "I got a report from the Security Guard that there was a disoriented man wandering around the neighborhood so they called me."
This is totally insane! I assure the cop that George is with me and they all split, the Security Guard, the foot cop and the squad car and they don't even tell me to move my car.
I'm pretty mad. I say, "Look George, that was a close call. Will you please wait in the car while I go and check in?"
George snaps back, "Oh youire always worrying about nothing. I knew you wouldn't like it here. Why don't you just go back to New Jersey?"
The bastard! I say, "Whatever dude." and then went inside.
The girl at the desk is nice and she says they have a room. She suggests I go up and look at it because their are no refunds. I take the key and go up to room 749. It's a typical YMCA room, no TV radio or bathroom, and two plastic covered beds, one in an empty front room and one in the back room with a desk and window. I thought it was pretty crappy for $65 when we could stay in a regular hotel room for $75.
I give the key back, tell the girl to wait for a moment and I go out and talk to George.
"Of course there's no bathroom in the room. I want to stay here. Do you have the key?"
There is nothing I can do. His mind was set.
"No, wait a minute, I'll be right back with the key."
Then, back at the desk, this black lady starts to explain to me that they might not even have a room for six nights because they might get some reservations. I'm not in the mood for this. I say, "Well, can you check for reservations now?"
"We currently don't have and but we might get some."
"Well I'm here now, why don't I just make the reservation?"
"No, I'm sorry sir, you have to make reservations two weeks in advance."
Has the world gone mad? I continue slowly, "So if there are no reservations now, and you have to make reservations two weeks in advance, how could we possibly not be able to stay for six days?"
"Well, you can definatly stay for a few days, but we might get some reservations."
I give up. I say, "Look, I'm not trying to be pushy, but I'm travelling with a 90 year old man and he's not very mobile. It will be very hard for us to move, that's why I need the room."
Then she gets a little nicer and says, "Well, the room probably will be available, just come down and pay for the next night before 11:00AM."
I say OK, whatever, pay for our first night and get the key.
All this insanity for a crappy room! I really don't even feel comfortable with my stuff in there. But when George has made up his mind and there's no changing it. I get back to the car and George says, "What took you so long?"
I'm not about to explain. I say, "I have the key, I'm going to bring our bags up to the room and I will come back down and give you the key."
I returned and gave George the key and gave him directions to the room.
"Look, I'm going to the airport to drop off the car, are you going to wait in the room for me?"
"Well yes, I might go down to the cafeteria, but I will be back by the time you return."
"Just be sure to lock the door if you leave."
He agreed and I was off to the airport. I could just imagine coming back, George is gone along with my Guitar, Backpack and Passports.
It was an easy drive to the airport and an even easier subway ride back to the Y. When I returned George was in the room and he had laid out an enormous buffet on the desk with the contents of the food bag. He is lying in bed and reading.
"Have yourself some dinner," he says pointing to the desk.
I make myself some cheese and crackers and take a seat at the desk.
"This bed here is yours. You deserve it. It's nicer than the other one."
"No way George, you take that bed, I'm happy with the bed out front."
"No itis your bed."
We yes and no back and forth for a while. Itis really hot in the room and George doesnit seem to be feeling too well. I ran down to the local Burger King and got him some ice and that made him happy, but he is still fidgeting and blowing his nose.
"I hope you didn't get a cold in the rain today." He knew I was referring to him refusing my raincoat.
"Nooo, I'm fine." Then he gets up, blows his nose, coughs violently and pukes into our empty trash pail. He's really uncomfortable, groaning, standing, sitting and I know he got a bit of a cold. He's one stubborn bastard, but I guess I am too.
The YMCA was really George's style and I was just going to have to accept it. And hell, they had an Olympic size pool! After a few crackers I tell George I'm going down to swim some laps.
"Of course," said George. "Maybe tomorrow I will join you."
I swam for about an hour and when I came back up George was right there to open the door for me and he was wearing my baseball cap. I knew he was feeling better because he only wears a cap when he is in a good mood. I felt bad about being so snappy earlier in the day, and George was still acting a little funny so I went with him into his room, sat down, and asked him if anything was wrong.
"I'm worried about going back to Paris. I'm a sick man. I really can't relax there."
I felt sorry for him. I had been a bit selfish. I promised myself that I would really be available to George for the rest of the week. Our trip always seemed to have such incredible ups and downs. I really need to make sure the rest of our trip is relaxing and that we do whatever George wants. As I write this, George is puking in the next room.
Thursday, July 10th - Day at the Boston Public Library (BPL)
This was a fine day. George seemed a lot better in the morning and we went down to the cafeteria for our free breakfast. Two eggs, hash browns, toast and coffee. Very good. After breakfast I paid for our next night and we went upstairs and relaxed for an hour. George really liked the Y and has won me over.
On our way out to the BPL I say, "I guess the Y is alright. Sorry I was so finicky."
"Yes," he replied, "We need some variety. All those expensive places we have been staying, this place is for regular guys like us!"
I laughed, put my arm around him and we walked about 15 minutes to the Library.
The first thing George wants to find is a series of article about Freud that appeared in the Boston Globe in the weeks after his death. To check out the Microfiche you need a library card so George and I went down to the main desk to sign up. After we have our cards were walking back into the main hall of the library when a kid of about 18 stops us.
"Hey, youire George Whitman!"
George is really excited, this is the first person on our whole trip that recognized him off the bat.
"Yes I am! You must have visited me at my bookstore in Paris."
The boy said, "No, I really want to, but I saw you Book TV."
This was really cool. George invited him to come and visit, they shook hands and that was it. Wild. Right in the lobby of the Boston Public Library.
We went back up and searched the microfiche for the Freud articles but we were unsuccessful in locating them. While we were browsing George paused smiled and said, "How about that, the guy only saw me for 5 minutes on TV and remembered me. It happens in the bookstore all the time but that was remarkable!"
I assured him it truly was.
After our unsuccessful Freud hunt, we went to the Walt Whitman section and George dove into a book called Cosmic Consciousness by Bucke. Itis a book that lists all of the people the author believes obtained "Cosmic Consciousness" including Jesus Christ, the Buddha and many others including Walt Whitman. It included a time line that listed every person and the year and age they obtained consciousness. I was a great book and I would study it in the days to come. George told me that we used to have it in the bookstore, but he lent it to Lawrence Durrell and never got it back. He could have got it when Durrell was selling his library but didn't.
After we left the library we took a walk down Commonwealth to find an old bookstore. While we were walking a guy on a bike pulled up right next to us and grabbed a newspaper out of a trash can. George was flabbergasted.
"We are really slacking off!" he declared with a wild smile. Itis so cool to be hanging with the man! There's no one on the planet quite like George.
As we wandered, he told me about his plans for the apartment across the hall from our on the third floor.
"We will tear down the walls, make bookshelves, and put in benches with space underneath for peopleis things and let young students stay there, ones that are interested in writing. It will be another wing added to the Shakespeare utopia!"
"Wow, George that's cool."
We continued to walk up Commonwealth towards the Commons because George remembered a bookstore that was there but we couldn't find it. There weren't even any stores on that part of Commonwealth. So we decided to go over a street and walk back up Newbury towards Massachusetts Avenue and home. On the way we found a nice outdoor bistro called "Stephanieis on Newbury." We both had the clam chowder and as usual it was not up to par.
"Why are there never any clams in the clam chowder?" George protested. "Clams have such a distinctive taste. This is potato soup!"
He was right, only a few pieces of clam, but for me it was perfect. I really love cream of potato soup and am not so hot on the clams. I have had more chowder in the last month than in my entire life!
After we left the restaurant we continued to wander up Newbury. George was in a great mood.
"Look at this, what a wonderful street, good looking people everywhere!"
He would see a couple of good looking girls on the corner and he would stop and stare. Being George, they didn't even care and smiled back. Everywhere we go everyone always smiled at George. I don't think it is because he is so old, there's something more about him, and itis his karma, his charm. Of course he's dressed in his pink shirt and my Thai elephant pants, maybe that helps, but that's not it either. All the way up Newbury he would stop and stare at things he liked, mainly children and pretty girls.
Once when we were crossing the street there was a car waiting for the light filled with teenage girls being driven by and adult. I hear the girl riding shotgun yell back to her friends, "Hey, look at the old guy, check him out, he's so cool!"
George was oblivious to this, and I didn't bring it up, but I thought it was really great. George really has something in him that is indescribable.
George was in a great mood the entire day, witty, laughing and joking around.
Tonight he seemed much better. No big hacking, puking or groaning. I think the key is an early dinner. We had our dinner at 4:30 PM and then we snacked around 8:00PM, when I returned with ice and fruit from the market. George was a little tuckered out from walking so far, but he still had the energy to sprint across Huntington Avenue to beat the oncoming traffic on our way back to the Y! He was in bed and asleep by 10:00PM. I spent the evening writing in my journal.
Saturday, July 5th - Yarmouth to Frederickton
We got up early and snacked cheese and crackers for breakfast and George made some coffee in our Skippy Peanut Butter jar for the road. It was a fine drive, about 8 hours back up the coast. We arrived in Frederickson about 4:00PM and drove around to check the place out. It was an odd town, a really big suburb going down this hill and the downtown was at the bottom next to a big river. There were only two main streets in the downtown area, King and Queen. I found a phone booth and gave Kelly a call but there was no answer at either of the phone numbers she gave me.
"Why don't we just get a hotel," George said to me.
"No, letis wait, I'm sure she will be home. She expects us. How about we go for a little dinner."
"OK, how about Kentucky Fried Chicken, I just want a couple pieces of chicken."
I had seen a KFC up the street so we went there ordered some food and we sat in the place and ate.
After dinner I tried Kelley again and got a hold of her. We could stay at her Grandmother's who had recently gone to a home. We would have the place to ourselves. I was really stoked. She gave us directions and said she would meet us there.
When we arrived we were greeted by Kelly, her boyfriend Rob, and their two friends, Joey and Jennifer. I think George remembered Kelly and the rest of the gang was really happy to meet George. Kelly had told them about her time at the Bookstore, so they were fascinated to meet such a legend.
We sat and chatted in the Kitchen for about half an hour. During that time Joey sat down at the table with George and rolled a joint. When he was done he lit it up and asked George if he smoked pot.
George smiled and said, No I don't do any of that stuff."
Then Joey started to go off, "Mr. Whitman, you're not going to believe this but we have met before. It was in a dream I had. I have met many people for the first time in my dreams."
George looks over at me and lifts his eyebrows and Kelly laughs a little.
"No really, we met in your store," he continues.
George buts in, "I'm really tired, and it seem that you are about to have an episode, so," looking to Kelly, "Could you show me to my room?"
Joey is bummed and walks outside. Kelly and I laugh and get George's stuff and go upstairs.
When we entered George's room his face really lit up, "I get to stay here! This is the best room I've seen this whole trip!"
It was really nice. It was Kelly's Grandmother's room. All old colonial style furniture and a big double bed. It looked a lot like Walt Whitman's room that we had seen earlier in the trip. George was really happy. We left him to read and relax.
That night Kelly was singing with a group downtown so we all got ready and went to the club. It was great. Kelly sang backup and the leader of the band was one interesting chap.
He was a Vietnam War draft dodger and came to Frederickson in the late sixties and lived in the forest outside of town with another draft dodger. He built himself a tee-pee and lived there for over 20 years. He later built himself o house on the land and was now married with children to a 20 year old Canadian girl. Wow, what a life.
They played 3 hours of old country music that sounded a lot like Neil Young. Kelly sang in about half of the songs so when we became bored, she Rob and I wandered around to some other bars.
It was a really fun night and I knew George had fun too.
Sunday, July 6th - Margarita's in Frederickson.
It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. I got up early and went to the store and bought eggs and bacon for breakfast. At least George didn't complain when I made food.
After breakfast Kelly and Rob gave George and I a tour of the town. First we went to their two main bookstores. One of the guys was familiar with our bookstore and gave George a warm welcome. George smiled and gave him a brochure and invited him to visit us in Paris. The stores had mainly new books and not any cheap used so we didn't buy anything.
After the bookstores we went to a great cafe and all had Ice Cream. We ate outside on a bus stop bench and George enjoyed Kelly telling him about the wonderful time she had in our Bookstore in Paris.
George was anxious to get back to his killer room so we went back and dropped him off.
After that they took me to a couple waterfalls in the area. It was really nice and relaxing. George had I had been together in the same room for the last week so it was good to get some time off. Not that I didn't enjoy every minute with the old man, but every once in a while you need a break. The forests surrounding Frederickson were really beautiful and we had an excellent day.
I proposed a Margarita party in the morning so after the waterfalls we went and purchased the tequila, strawberries and lime and went back to Kelley's. Joey and Jennifer came over and we had a nice little Margarita Croquet party. When it got to dark to play, we went inside and talked about Kelley's Fete du Mutton incident in Morocco. They had all heard the story, but I gave them my account of the evening chronicled earlier in this document. They were all fascinated.
"I never thought I would ever meet anyone who was actually there!" said Jennifer. "What do you think was the cause?"
I said something like, "I'm not sure, I think she drank too much and was freaked out by the dead sheep."
They all disagreed. They were all convinced that it really was a spiritual experience. They all were very earth and spiritually oriented, white witches of Canada. I wasn't going to dispute it. It was one of the strangest things I have ever seen.
After the big discussion we got out my guitar and jammed some songs. I played them "United Divided" and they all loved it.
What a great evening. Just what I needed, a little break from the intensities involved with hanging with George.
George stayed in his room all night and was well rested when we departed the next morning.
Monday, July 7th - Norway, Maine and Old Orchard Beach
A fine day travelling down the eastern seaboard. Our first stop was Norway, Maine. This is where one of George's Grandparents lived. George wanted to go there to see if we could find the house where they lived. On the way down he told about his grandparents and here are the details as best as I can remember them.
One side was a Sea Captain and wife. After the Captain retired, he started a factory in Boston that produced brushes and other stuff. He was, "A very successful and wealthy industrialist," as George put it.
On the other side his grandparents were from Norway, Maine. That Grandfather was a minister at the Church of All Souls. They were fairly poor, but they did own a summer home near Orlando, FL. George quotes, "Which was very rare for a poor couple from Maine." Both sets of Grandparents spent every summer in Florida.
When we arrived in Norway, George was a little disoriented. We drove around for awhile looking for landmarks that George recognized. Everything had changed so much he found it hard to get his bearings. I didn't take him long and we found the street that his Grandparents lived off of, and then we found the actual street itself. They lived at #9 Alpine Street.
Unfortunately the house was gone, probably replace by a Rite Aid Drug Store that was now on the block.
George spent a lot of time visiting his Grandparents in Norway so the neighborhood was very nostalgic for him. As we drove around, George saw some old railroad tracks and told me to pull over so he could take a look.
"I used to come here and watch the train go by twice a day. My best friend would meet me here."
Then he pointed to a house across the road, "He lived right there in that blue house!"
"Wow, so you have always loved trains. Tell me about when you used hobo the rails in America, did you ever get kicked off?"
"I was a hobo in the thirties. I once got caught by the conductor who taped my head with a Billy club to intimidate me, but he didn't throw me off. I heard stories about guy that got throw off a moving train but it never happened to me. They always waited until the next stop kick you off."
He told me that he made several trips from Salem to LA in combinations of hitching and hopping the rails. What a fantastic life he has led.
George then told me about how in the summer he would walk from Norway to Portland, which is over 50 miles. He then would continue and walk all the way back home to Salem. He said that once his Uncle stopped to offer him a ride but he refused.
"I just wanted to walk," he said. "I refused rides all the time."
His amazing stories never end.
We drove around Norway to try see things other things from his past, the Library, some restaurants, the park, etc. I estimate that he had spent most of his time there in the late 20's and early 30's so things had really changed. As we approached a place knew, he would look and say, "Nope, that's gone too." I think the only building that was still standing was the old Public Library.
After Norway, we headed to Portland. There we got off the freeway and drove around the harbor. He was familiar with the city and we stopped a little restaurant on the water for lunch. We both had clam chowder and George rehashed the story about working on the Fishing Trawler out of a dock that wasn't far away. He really didnit enjoy that job!
After lunch we headed to Old Orchard Beach. George said that he used to go there and that there would be lots of cheap hotel rooms available. I wondered, but he was correct.
Old orchard reminded me of a resort town on the Jersey Shore. A long strip of cheap hotel right on the beach. The town was crowded with tourists but there were still many hotels with vacancies. We checked a few places and found a nice lodge. George talked the lady down to $55 a night so he was really happy. After Yarmouth, George always went in to get to prices. No matter what, he could always talk the people down. I thought it was really amazing. He truly was the master of the road.
After we put the bags in our little cabin we took a walk down to the beach for the sunset. It was a nice beach, fine white sand, nice little cottages along the shore line and lots of people walking around.
"Look at this," George said smiling while spreading out his arms. "This is much nicer than that beach of yours in New Jersey."
He was egging me on.
"Youire crazy!" I reply. "This place may be nice, but the water is freezing and look at it, they never get any surf. And our sand is just as fine!"
George didn't reply, he just whispered, under his breath, "Much nicer, much nicer."
I laughed and he looked back at me with a sly smile.
We walked until the sun set and then we returned to the hotel.
This was not a good night. When we got back to the hotel I called my grandmother and she told me that My Uncle and his Girlfriend made her "Promise" that I wouldn't stay there that summer. I had been staying there every summer since I quit my job and my plan was to go and stay there again after George went back to Paris. This was the only home I had left in America. My parents sent my Brothers and me to live there every summer of my childhood and my Grandparents became much like my mother and father. Now I have my uncle bullying my beloved Grandmother into saying I'm not welcome. It was insane! I told my Grandma that I wouldn't cause trouble and that we would discuss it when I arrived.
After the call I went back out into the kitchen to make some food. George is sitting watching TV eating peanut butter and crackers. I grab the bread from the bag and it was starting to mold. The cheese was also getting dried up.
"George, I'm going out to get some bread and cheese, do you want anything?"
George explodes, "What's wrong with the bread we have?" He walks over the food bag, grabs the cheese and shakes it at me "And what's wrong with this cheese? You are so wasteful! You just want to throw everything away!"
I was not in the mood.
"Youire a fanatic! The bread is moldy and that cheese is crap!" I yell back. "I'm going to the store, if you don't want anything that's fine!"
He growls at me and I grab the car keys and split. I was really used to this food scene, but I was so mad about my home situation, I really blew up. I could have easily just said I was going for a ride and got some food, but, in anger, I decided to be confrontational and it was a bad move.
As I drove around I felt bad about leaving George like that. No matter, I still went to the store for bread and cheese and also picked up a six-pack of beer.
I knew my nerves where wearing thin so I decided to drink a few beers and listen to the radio in the car before going back in the cabin.
When I finally went in George was already in bed in the back room so I went back and closed the door. I turned on the TV with the volume down really low and started to cook myself some grilled cheese sandwiches.
The next thing I know, George comes running out of the room, goes into the bathroom and starts puking. I cringe. When he comes out I ask if He's Ok and he says, "No, I'm fine, don't feel well that's all."
He goes back into the room and I continue dinner. I finished my cheesers and while I was eating them he runs back out and pukes again. I don't really hear a splash and wonder what is going on. He returns to the bedroom with out looking at me. I'm going crazy. I'm a little worried, but also think he is putting me on. He's probably just mad that I left after yelling at him.
After dinner I got out my last beers and watched TV. Next, I hear some serious stomping going on in the back room. I go back to see what's up. George is standing there in the dark next to his bed doing who knows what.
"George, what's up man, are you alright?"
"No, No, I'm fine," he says softly. Then he gets into bed says, "It's past 11:00PM isn't it? Got to get up early tomorrow."
"OK, I'll got to bed soon, just let me finish my beer."
I go back out and sit down and within a few minutes he starts with the big groan, "Hunnnghhhh!" over and over again. Even through the door it was really loud.
That drama king! This is insane! He wasn't going to stop until I went to bed. I laughed to myself. This man really knows how to get his way. I guzzled down the rest of my beer, turned off the TV and went to bed.
Tuesday, July 8th - Boston and Cape Cod
The next morning George was fine and we got an early start. The incident of the night before was forgotten and we both sat down to little breakfast before we left. We had a few eggs so I made us fried eggs with toast and George made the coffee. George didn't even complain about the new bread.
We had eight days left and George wanted to spend them in Boston doing research in the Public Library.
Boston wasn't far so we decided to take the coastal route instead of the main highway. George was really blown away by all the strip malls.
"Look, all the houses are gone! Typical America! It's crazy! Never ending little rundown stores! And all those horrible capitalist chain stores. Itis horrible! It was nothing like this when I used to walk this road on my way to Boston. People used to come out on their porches and greet me. Look at it now!"
I looked back at him, smiled and said, "Yep, progress."
George was really happy when we finally arrived in Boston. He got a twinkle in his eye and said, "Isn't this a beautiful city!"
First off, we parked and went to the travel center that was in Boston Common. George was mad that we had to pay for parking but there was nothing I could do. There was no parking on the city streets so we had to find a lot.
"It's crooked, paying to park." George protested.
After going getting hotel information at the info center we took a short walk around the Commons. It was a really nice day and there were lots of people strolling around.
"Ah, isn't this beautiful." said George. "I would walk through this park everyday when I was going to Boston University." He also told me that the park was the center for big political debates that were occurring in the early 30's.
It was nice to get out of the car for an hour but soon enough we were back on the road for the big hotel search. I knew this would be intense so I just sat back and let George do the navigating.
We started by driving around the Back Bay area. George was sure that this was the cheapest part of town.
"We should easily be able to room for say, $10 a week!" he said.
I just looked at him and smiled. Why burst his bubble.
There were no hotels in the Back Bay area. Just lots of tall brick apartment buildings. George was searching feverously. Every time he saw an "Apartment for Rent" or "Room for Rent" sign he would yell, "Stop here, I want to check the price!"
I assured him that those places were only rented by the month and that there was no one to stop and talk to. "Look George, see how all the signs have phone numbers, you have to call them."
He would shrug and say, "Letis keep on looking!"
Finally, he's convinced by intense protests from me that we would have to find a Hotel.
He really wanted to stay in walking distance to the Public Library so we start to check all the low budget looking hotels in the area. First we try the Midtown Motel, $99 a night, way too much. Then we go by the YMCA, $65 a night but we would have to pay for parking so that's too much. I figure that if the YMCA is too much we are really in trouble.
"Look George, let stop and use the phone. This Brochure has a number for 1-800-BHOTELS and they guarantee the lowest rates."
He agrees and we find a phone booth. The cheapest place they have is $75 a night and they have free parking.
I return to the car and tell George. "At the airport? We can't stay out there, we need to be near the library!"
"But George, there's a Subway entrance right next to the hotel. It's only 10 minutes from downtown." I knew this was going to be an issue so I was prepared. Nothing Doing.
"We can't stay at the airport." George replied.
So I have a brilliant idea, "Why don't we go back to the YMCA, we'll get a room and I will drive out to the airport, return the car and we won't have to pay for parking."
George thinks for a moment. "No, because maybe we'll want to go to Cape Cod tomorrow."
George had talked about going to Cape Cod when we were in Paris but this is the first time he had mentioned it during the trip. I'm starting to get worked up.
"Look, why the hell are we trying to stay downtown, where we know itis expensive, when you want to drive out tomorrow. What were doing makes no sense. Why don't we go out and stay in Cape Cod tonight and we can drop off the car tomorrow?"
He pauses, looks over to me and says, "Well, I wasn't planning to go to Cape Cod but if you want to go, Ok."
Absolute insanity. But I'm happy because we were finally going to be out of the city traffic. I find the 93 and we were on our way out of town. I wasn't sure where I was going I just followed the signs towards Cape Cod.
There was an info center along the Highway and we stopped and got some brochures. We decided that we would stay in a town called Hyannis. When we got there we drove around looking for a place. Here we go again. We stopped at a couple hotels in the Downtown area and they were both over $100 so that was out. Then George decides we should stay at a B & B so we drive towards the beach. We passed quite a few cheap looking Motels on our way but George didn't want to stop. Finally, near the water, we find a place that looks suitable to George so I park and George went in to check the price. Itis a nice little Victorian B & B.
After 5 minutes George comes out triumphant, "We'll stay here, I got, them down to $50. And it's really nice!"
I'm happy that we finally found a place he liked. Then we both go in to register. I give the guy my credit card and he says, "Is a queen bed Ok?"
"Just one bed?"
"Yes, for $50 I can't give you a room with two beds."
I look over at George and he is smiling. Crap! I'm a bit bent out of shape but what could I do.
He gave us the key and we went to the room. It was really small, but at that point I didn't care. We dropped our bags, changed and went down to the water for a swim.
It was a pretty far down the road so we drove to the Beach. It was really nice. The water was around 70 degrees and it was really shallow. George swam/walked for about 10 minutes and went back and relaxed on the beach. I went out about 100 yards until the water was over my head then swam back. It was great to be out in the ocean after such a long way driving.
We went back to the hotel to rinse off and change and then we went out for dinner. George wanted to go to a place he got a flyer for that was in Falmouth called The Hearth and Kettle. I had no objections.
On the way we passed lots of hotels with vacancies and I started to harass George.
"Look at that place, $65 for two beds. I would pay the extra $15 for a bed!" After I pointed out a few more places in this manner, George erupted.
"Ok, I'll sleep on the floor!"
I felt ashamed. I sheepishly replied, "Ok, sorry, I won't complain anymore."
The restaurant was really great. We got a table overlooking a little pond and George was really enchanted.
"Look at this, nice view, happy people, I finally feel like were on vacation!" He said. I was thinking to myself, "Man, after this vacation I will really need a vacation!"
When we got our menus, George noticed that all the prices on the menu he got at the info center were $1 less than the real menu. He showed me, smiled, pounded his fist softly on the table and said, "I want to talk to the Manager!"
The dinner was really good and on the way home we got some softserve ice cream. George had never had soft serve but I knew he would like it because it's kind of like a really thick milkshake on a cone.
We got back to the room and things were much less dramatic than the night before. I wrote in my dairy and George read. The floor was comfortable enough and I was asleep before George turned off the light. I was a nice restful evening with out any groaning.
Wednesday the 9th - Taunton and Boston
This was a big day and I was excited. First we were going to try to find the location of George's first bookstore in Taunton and then we were going into Boston to find a hotel and drop off the rental car. I was looking forward to getting rid of the car and definatly would not miss driving around looking for hotels. But, I was sad that out trip was coming to a close. One more week in Boston. Even though George can be difficult, the good moments we had made the bad moments seem like nothing.
What a great night of rest. We got up around 8:00AM. George took a shower and I went out to the Continental Breakfast and got us some juice, croissants and coffee. Before we left George prepared our road coffee. Man that coffee was addicting and it only took him two minutes to make it. Sweet and strong was the name of the game.
On the road to Taunton George and I discussed the antibiotics he had taken during the trip.
"Those antibiotics worked for the first couple days but then they did nothing," said George.
"But they did work, I mean look, youire not coughing up the yellow flem anymore."
"No, they didn't work, I'm still a very sick man."
"Well, if youire feeling really sick I can always change your flight and you can go home early."
He raises his voice, "I'm not going home early! I was just talking. Geezze!"
I smiled at him, "Really man, youire a lot better than you were and thatis what counts"
Then he changed the subject.
"Well I'm still worried about my daughter and how she will run the bookstore."
"Of course you are, that's normal. The bookstore is your heart and soul. Don't worry, she will do a good job."
"I don't know...." he said fading out.
When we arrive in Taunton it was rainy
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