December 31, 2007
Nashville-to-Cooperstown
New Year's Eve is a happy time of year for us in the Yasko household. On New Year's Eve, 2002, I proposed (we'll save that story for another time) at the original Starbucks in Pike Place Market in Seattle. She broke a clown's nose eighteen minutes after that. That's when I knew that I had made the right decision.
NYE07 was a life-changing event. It was our second year in Cooperstown, having flown to Houston Christmas/New Year's in 2006. We spent NYE06 at a Chili's in Albany, New York, drove to Cooperstown, and - on the way to get Gunther and Angus - at 8am January 1, 2007 - I got pulled over for Misdeeds at a Roundabout. Good start to the year.
My job description changed in 2007, so I had a lot of vacation time I needed to burn up - to the tune of almost three weeks. To fly to Texas from Albany, and put two dogs in a kennel for three weeks would have approached close to $2,500. And that's a good two weeks' worth of heating oil, so that was out. We quickly settled on driving to Texas, so that we could take G&A with us, and also have a car with us.
We left Cooperstown about 5pm and headed southwest. Kami asked about our route to Texas and I explained, "Turn right at Oneonta, left at Binghamton, right at Knoxville, left at Dallas." I still have no idea what Pennsylvania looks like. As far as I'm concerned, I-81 through Pennsylvania looks like the route to Hogwarts, because it was so foggy, I could barely see. We spent the first night at a hotel in Harrisonburg, Virginia, without incident. The next day we drove to Nashville, where we stayed with some friends, and was also the day that Miguel Tejada was traded to the Astros. The next day, Dallas, and Miguel Tejada was named in the Mitchell Report. The day after that, we drove to Houston via Austin (long story), and I read the Mitchell Report.
Total route distance: 2,025 miles. Total route time: 33 hours. But as we made our way, gas got cheaper and the temperature got warmer.
We had a lovely time in Texas, and proceeded to make our way back to New York on December 29, 2007, arranging to swing back by Nashville (where we thought, "We should live here. Like, now."). Checking the weather - because I'm a little OCD about the weather - I saw that a blizzard was going to sweep it's way up I-81 on December 30. Well, I'm not about to get stranded on the interstate in a blizzard. And it was about 45 degrees in Nashville, or, approximately 35 degrees warmer than it was in Cooperstown, so we stayed in Nashville an extra day, planning to make the whole drive back to Cooperstown on December 31 - 975 miles in one day.
Off we went.
Quickly, a list of the Worst Places I've Ever Been:
1. Meridian, MS
2. Terrell, TX
3. Bristol, TN/VA
4. Mandeville, LA
But Salem, Virginia holds a special place in my heart. I needed coffee. Bad. So there was a sign at the exit for Salem that said there was a Starbucks. Here's the thing, and this is true in Pennsylvania and Virginia: you cannot trust the exit signs. The Interstate will say there is a Starbucks at that exit, and it is technically true, but it's going to take 25 minutes to get to that spot.
So we meander off I-81 outside Roanoke for a 50-minute detour, and I get the biggest cup of coffee they'll give me, plus three shots of espresso. As I'm getting back in the car, Gunther & Angus are hopping excited (and cramped), and I take my spot at the steering wheel - where Gunther parkours himself towards my seat, knocks my scalding hot caffeine out of my hand, all over my arms, steering wheel, and crotch.
Myriad thoughts went through my mind, not the least of which included the scalding hot liquid all over me, and the squirming dog licking the steering wheel. In the middle of all this, I realized that we had been in the car for seven hours, and were not yet halfway home. Partially due to pain, mainly due to this realization, I started to cry. And I don't mean "sweet, gentle, touching tears." This was a complete and utter meltdown in the parking lot of a Starbucks in Salem, Virginia. The steering wheel and dashboard caught the brunt of this outburst, but I made sure not to lash out at Kami, or Gunther and Angus.
Still, it was alarming enough that, when I came to (six minutes had passed, apparently) there were people looking in my window like it was a funhouse mirror. Kami gently guided me to the passenger side, where I laid the seat back, cried a little more (Gunther and Angus decided that the back seat was less crazy than the front, and faced the seat) until I could pull it together.
30 minutes later, I resumed driving. Don't forget the date, however. It was December 31. New Year's Eve. Amateur Night for Aspiring Alcoholics.
We stopped for dinner at an Arby's in Scranton, PA. Angus had part of a turkey sandwich and threw up all over the backseat. We got to Binghamton as they were starting their fireworks display (11pm). We got to Oneonta about 12:30am. The drive from Oneonta to Cooperstown - 22-ish miles - is dangerous at the best of times. When every drunk nutbag is coming home from their New Year's Eve parties, it's like a bad day in Bosnia.
There's a creepy little town at Goodyear Lake, where the road bends a little bit. At 12:45am
a car, swerving somewhat uncontrollably, passed right through us. There's no other explanation. There's simply no other explanation.
We arrived home at 1:15am, January 1, 2008, and were back at work on January 3. Happy New Year.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Saturday, December 24, 2011
The one where the iPod was on our dashboard in Tarrytown for five days
Christmas 2008
Various Places in New York
Yes, it's been a while. It's been crazy around Chez Yaskeaux, and yes, we'll talk about why at some point in the very near future. But not now.
Three years ago we were invited to come and spend a few days at the Roosevelt Hotel in Midtown Manhattan for a wedding my father-in-law was presiding over for the daughter of some of their best friends (follow that?). This is an incredible hotel (Kami's parents friends are incredible people - they have meant a lot to our family), and we stayed in a big-ol' suite with Kami's parents, and her brothers. Kami was pregnant (maybe we'll come back to that, as well), as was Kami's sister-in-law, and we chose to tell their family on that trip. But first we had to get to New York City.
Cooperstown is a good four-hour drive from New York City, and as I have an acute case of Road Rage, it wasn't a good idea for me to be driving in Manhattan. Not to mention that it costs approximately $9,214.89 per day to park. So what we decided to do was to drive to Poughkeepsie, the last stop on the Metro North that would take us in to Grand Central - easily my favorite place on earth - where we had about a two-block walk to the hotel. Things were going swimmingly.
We left Cooperstown so that we would arrive in New York right around lunchtime. It was cold, seriously cold. So cold that even Siberians would think, "Yeah I'm not working in that gulag today, you cossacks can go to hell." Cold that you never actually get used to, and why people continue to put themselves through that misery I'll never understand.
Anyhow, driving to Poughkeepsie took about two hours, and we listened to all sorts of really loud music, generally having a good time, and we arrived at the station about 10am. Problem was, there wasn't really a place to park, and we were going to have to leave our car for about five days. We did find a place on the street that looked like we could park there, but Kami wasn't sold. And if Kami isn't sold, then it's just not going to happen. So she said, "Let's just go to Tarrytown," - a cute little town better known for being the location of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Except it wasn't all that close. It seemed like it should be, but it just was a lot farther than it seemed like it should have been. Like Spring.
Anyhow, I cave (I always do, it's part of what makes our relationship great - and I don't mean that facetiously), and point the car farther south to Tarrytown. It takes about an hour and a half to get from Poughkeepsie to Tarrytown, and we're driving past the train as we both approach the station. I'm driving 35mph, the train is going about 25. From my quick calculations - you know, because I'm so good at math and word problems - we're going to have about four minutes to get up to the platform, buy our tickets, and get on the train. And that's if we can quickly find a parking spot.
We do not quickly find a parking spot.
I drive in frantic, hurried circles looking for a parking spot. And Tarrytown - like Poughkeepsie - is a commuter town, full of people who live "upstate" but choose to spend a significant portion of their day traveling to and from New York City. So there aren't too many parking spots to be had at noon on a weekday.
Ultimately, I find one towards the back of the lot, and pull in. I barely have the car in Park before Kami bails out of the car like MacGuyver to get our bags out of the backseat and hurry to the platform. I tell her to go, and I'll be right behind her. As I run about 50 yards behind Kami, I notice that there are little stickers on all of the cars parked in the lot. I hesitate to get a better look at the sticker, and yes, it's a permit to park. Then I see a sign that says, "No overnight parking." And that pre-diarrhea feeling steals the heat from my extremities as panic sets in. Kami is already up the stairs, and the train is approaching. Missing the train because I was dawdling would not go over well. So I just kept running.
I buy our tickets, and we get on the train. I just need to calm down for a second, so I look for the iPod in order to get three minutes of soothing Rage Against the Machine, and I cannot find it. Where was the last place I saw it? On the dashboard of the car that will now be in Tarrytown for five days and, oh yeah, the car is unlocked, having forgotten to lock it in my rush.
Evaluating the scenario, I realize there are a few different scenarios, and there is a corresponding likelihood of all these scenarios.
Scenario #1: iPod gets stolen. The would-be thieves could simply open the door, take the iPod, and I wouldn't have so much as a broken window to give to State Farm as evidence. Likelihood: 80%
Scenario #2: Everything gets stolen. Again, the would-be thieves could simply open the door, take anything they wanted, and I wouldn't have so much as a broken window to give to State Farm as evidence. Likelihood: 70%
Scenario #3: We get a ticket for parking in an unauthorized lot, due to the conspicuous absence of a sticker. Likelihood: 90%.
Scenario #4: Our car gets towed for parking in an unauthorized lot, due to the conspicuous absence of a sticker. Likelihood: 70%.
Scenario #5: Variations of all of the above. Car gets towed after everything is looted. We get a ticket. Likelihood: 65%.
Scenario #6: Everything is fine. The nice people of Tarrytown channel their inner Washington Irving, and do nothing to our iPod or in-car possessions. Tarrytown's finest think, "You know, it's so close to Christmas..." run our plates, find that we are good human beings, and turn a blind eye - nay - protect our car, keeping it under close watch. Likelihood: 4%.
The whole time we're enjoying this amazing experience in New York City - including a trip to the Statue of Liberty that just happened to be among the coldest experiences I've ever had. As a side note, the passes we had for the Statue of Liberty could not be redeemed at the Statue of Liberty. You had to go to some place on 43rd Street (if I remember correctly), and get your tickets to the Statue of Liberty. We found this out after arriving at the Statue of Liberty, which was nowhere near 43rd Street. So Kami's brother and I jumped back on the subway, took it to get the tickets redeemed, and then went back to meet with everybody. It was an ordeal.
Anyhow, one of the very few things I could think about was, "What is happening to our car?" I'm an early-riser, typically getting up - especially with a pregnant wife - a couple of hours before Kami. Every morning I wondered if I could make it to Tarrytown, check on the car/sweep up the alluvial fan of broken glass I was sure was all over the ground. But I decided that I was having a fine time, and that I didn't want whatever horrific things had happened to our only car to bother me for the rest of our visit.
Consider this paragraph a preview of coming stories from this visit in which a drunken dentist puked a hockey puck of beef down his sleeve, I forgot my last name at Ellis Island (but was too embarrassed to admit it, so I just walked off), and we saw David Duchovny in the subway. That last one probably won't get written up, as it's just not all that impressive.
The morning arrived where everyone was going to the airport, and we just had to get the Metro North back to Tarrytown. All the Elliseseses took off back to Texas, and Kami and I made the silent trip north, each of us worried sick about what we would find. As we approached the station, we somehow got more silent, looking to the back of the parking lot to see if it was either (a) gone, or (b) on blocks.
There wasn't any glass on the ground. Our car was still there. I couldn't see how many tickets were under the windshield wipers, though. Scenario #6, the one where everything was fine, against all odds, proved to be correct. As I joyously, Sound-of-Music-ally skipped to the car, twirling and singing, I knew I didn't have to unlock it. I just opened the door, no tickets or citations were on the glass, our iPod - though frozen - was still sitting on the dashboard.
Kami and I drove off happily, our faith in humanity restored - at least our faith in the good people of Tarrytown.
Various Places in New York
Yes, it's been a while. It's been crazy around Chez Yaskeaux, and yes, we'll talk about why at some point in the very near future. But not now.
Three years ago we were invited to come and spend a few days at the Roosevelt Hotel in Midtown Manhattan for a wedding my father-in-law was presiding over for the daughter of some of their best friends (follow that?). This is an incredible hotel (Kami's parents friends are incredible people - they have meant a lot to our family), and we stayed in a big-ol' suite with Kami's parents, and her brothers. Kami was pregnant (maybe we'll come back to that, as well), as was Kami's sister-in-law, and we chose to tell their family on that trip. But first we had to get to New York City.
Cooperstown is a good four-hour drive from New York City, and as I have an acute case of Road Rage, it wasn't a good idea for me to be driving in Manhattan. Not to mention that it costs approximately $9,214.89 per day to park. So what we decided to do was to drive to Poughkeepsie, the last stop on the Metro North that would take us in to Grand Central - easily my favorite place on earth - where we had about a two-block walk to the hotel. Things were going swimmingly.
We left Cooperstown so that we would arrive in New York right around lunchtime. It was cold, seriously cold. So cold that even Siberians would think, "Yeah I'm not working in that gulag today, you cossacks can go to hell." Cold that you never actually get used to, and why people continue to put themselves through that misery I'll never understand.
Anyhow, driving to Poughkeepsie took about two hours, and we listened to all sorts of really loud music, generally having a good time, and we arrived at the station about 10am. Problem was, there wasn't really a place to park, and we were going to have to leave our car for about five days. We did find a place on the street that looked like we could park there, but Kami wasn't sold. And if Kami isn't sold, then it's just not going to happen. So she said, "Let's just go to Tarrytown," - a cute little town better known for being the location of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Except it wasn't all that close. It seemed like it should be, but it just was a lot farther than it seemed like it should have been. Like Spring.
Anyhow, I cave (I always do, it's part of what makes our relationship great - and I don't mean that facetiously), and point the car farther south to Tarrytown. It takes about an hour and a half to get from Poughkeepsie to Tarrytown, and we're driving past the train as we both approach the station. I'm driving 35mph, the train is going about 25. From my quick calculations - you know, because I'm so good at math and word problems - we're going to have about four minutes to get up to the platform, buy our tickets, and get on the train. And that's if we can quickly find a parking spot.
We do not quickly find a parking spot.
I drive in frantic, hurried circles looking for a parking spot. And Tarrytown - like Poughkeepsie - is a commuter town, full of people who live "upstate" but choose to spend a significant portion of their day traveling to and from New York City. So there aren't too many parking spots to be had at noon on a weekday.
Ultimately, I find one towards the back of the lot, and pull in. I barely have the car in Park before Kami bails out of the car like MacGuyver to get our bags out of the backseat and hurry to the platform. I tell her to go, and I'll be right behind her. As I run about 50 yards behind Kami, I notice that there are little stickers on all of the cars parked in the lot. I hesitate to get a better look at the sticker, and yes, it's a permit to park. Then I see a sign that says, "No overnight parking." And that pre-diarrhea feeling steals the heat from my extremities as panic sets in. Kami is already up the stairs, and the train is approaching. Missing the train because I was dawdling would not go over well. So I just kept running.
I buy our tickets, and we get on the train. I just need to calm down for a second, so I look for the iPod in order to get three minutes of soothing Rage Against the Machine, and I cannot find it. Where was the last place I saw it? On the dashboard of the car that will now be in Tarrytown for five days and, oh yeah, the car is unlocked, having forgotten to lock it in my rush.
Evaluating the scenario, I realize there are a few different scenarios, and there is a corresponding likelihood of all these scenarios.
Scenario #1: iPod gets stolen. The would-be thieves could simply open the door, take the iPod, and I wouldn't have so much as a broken window to give to State Farm as evidence. Likelihood: 80%
Scenario #2: Everything gets stolen. Again, the would-be thieves could simply open the door, take anything they wanted, and I wouldn't have so much as a broken window to give to State Farm as evidence. Likelihood: 70%
Scenario #3: We get a ticket for parking in an unauthorized lot, due to the conspicuous absence of a sticker. Likelihood: 90%.
Scenario #4: Our car gets towed for parking in an unauthorized lot, due to the conspicuous absence of a sticker. Likelihood: 70%.
Scenario #5: Variations of all of the above. Car gets towed after everything is looted. We get a ticket. Likelihood: 65%.
Scenario #6: Everything is fine. The nice people of Tarrytown channel their inner Washington Irving, and do nothing to our iPod or in-car possessions. Tarrytown's finest think, "You know, it's so close to Christmas..." run our plates, find that we are good human beings, and turn a blind eye - nay - protect our car, keeping it under close watch. Likelihood: 4%.
The whole time we're enjoying this amazing experience in New York City - including a trip to the Statue of Liberty that just happened to be among the coldest experiences I've ever had. As a side note, the passes we had for the Statue of Liberty could not be redeemed at the Statue of Liberty. You had to go to some place on 43rd Street (if I remember correctly), and get your tickets to the Statue of Liberty. We found this out after arriving at the Statue of Liberty, which was nowhere near 43rd Street. So Kami's brother and I jumped back on the subway, took it to get the tickets redeemed, and then went back to meet with everybody. It was an ordeal.
Anyhow, one of the very few things I could think about was, "What is happening to our car?" I'm an early-riser, typically getting up - especially with a pregnant wife - a couple of hours before Kami. Every morning I wondered if I could make it to Tarrytown, check on the car/sweep up the alluvial fan of broken glass I was sure was all over the ground. But I decided that I was having a fine time, and that I didn't want whatever horrific things had happened to our only car to bother me for the rest of our visit.
Consider this paragraph a preview of coming stories from this visit in which a drunken dentist puked a hockey puck of beef down his sleeve, I forgot my last name at Ellis Island (but was too embarrassed to admit it, so I just walked off), and we saw David Duchovny in the subway. That last one probably won't get written up, as it's just not all that impressive.
The morning arrived where everyone was going to the airport, and we just had to get the Metro North back to Tarrytown. All the Elliseseses took off back to Texas, and Kami and I made the silent trip north, each of us worried sick about what we would find. As we approached the station, we somehow got more silent, looking to the back of the parking lot to see if it was either (a) gone, or (b) on blocks.
There wasn't any glass on the ground. Our car was still there. I couldn't see how many tickets were under the windshield wipers, though. Scenario #6, the one where everything was fine, against all odds, proved to be correct. As I joyously, Sound-of-Music-ally skipped to the car, twirling and singing, I knew I didn't have to unlock it. I just opened the door, no tickets or citations were on the glass, our iPod - though frozen - was still sitting on the dashboard.
Kami and I drove off happily, our faith in humanity restored - at least our faith in the good people of Tarrytown.
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