Mission

“These are the voyages of the traveler Steven. Its five-year mission: to explore the strange world, to seek out life and civilizations, to boldly go where few men have gone before.”

When I set out to see the world, my goal was to check off a bunch of boxes. I set some goals, got a full-time job, added some more goals, learned that taking 50 vacation days a year was not considered acceptable, figured out how to incorporate all of the goals I set, and had at it. My goal was never to explore new cultures, yet that is what these voyages have become. I have started to understand foreign cultures, but I have learned one fundamental truth. Human beings are, for the most part, the same.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

The First States - Day 2 - Exciting Delaware

8/16/15, “Exciting Delaware”
New York, New York


When I kept referring to “exciting Delaware,” I meant it as a joke, but, in truth, after our 24 hours in Delaware, I was quite pleasantly surprised.  I was misquoting the Delaware scene from Wayne’s World, but the quote worked.  Everyone we knew who ever lived in Delaware told us the same thing.  There’s nothing to see there.  That is what makes the scene from Wayne’s World so funny.  I actually just Snapped the squad asking if they wanted to watch the movie tomorrow night.

What was there to do in “exciting Delaware?”  A lot, it turned out, but all that mattered to me was the Legislature, my stamped brochure (hopefully with all three stamps), and the iconic restaurant.  Unfortunately, the place in Dover with the Stamp would not open until 1:30 PM, and the State Park office closed at 4 PM, which would make it very difficult to get all three stamps.  In theory, it was doable, but I did not like our odds.  It also meant we had the entire morning to kill, but I have gotten ahead of myself.

After I closed, immediately afterwards, I heard what sounded like an air raid siren.  I think I blurted out, “Is this the bloody Blitz?”  It turned out that it was from the fire house, and that was how they call the volunteer firemen to come over.  I went up to the room where my friends were already asleep and got into bed as quietly as possible.  Something was off.  It was way too hot.  Even without sheets I felt like I was sweating, and I knew there was no way I could go to sleep.  Was the AC not working?  I checked the thermostat, which read 75.  No, that wasn’t possible.  My friends were under their blanket.  No one under the age of 60 sleeps in a room that is 75 degrees and under blankets.  I assumed that the thermostat malfunctioned and reset itself, especially with 75 being such an even number (yes, I know 75 is odd, but it’s a round number).  I set it down to 68 degrees and being next to the AC, I was soon comfortable enough to fall asleep.

I woke up about 6 hours later, once again sweltering.  I checked the thermostat.  It was now 78 degrees, which meant that most likely one of my friends had turned it up, but I still wasn’t 100% sure.  Who puts the thermostat to 78 degrees and sleeps under a blanket, in summer?  I knew there was zero chance I could fall back to sleep like that, so I put it down to 64 degrees.  6 AM was not the appropriate time to have a discussion about the setting of the thermostat.  It turned out that one of my friends gets nasal drip when she gets too cold, something I am quite familiar with, since my dad has the same.  However, it was a discussion we probably should have had before we went to bed, rather than us just each waking up in the middle of the night to change the temperature, having the result of making the other uncomfortable, not even realizing that the other person needed the temperature setting they changed it to in order to sleep, or that they in fact changed it.

Around 9 AM, awoken by a few notifications on my phone, unable to get back to sleep but not quite ready to get out of bed, I heard my friends whispering, followed by one of them calling my name.  She said she wasn’t sure how to wake me up.  I joked that whispering to each other and calling my name would do the trick, especially given that I was already awake.  We headed down to breakfast, which was quite a disappointment, even compared to Hampton Inn, but I made do.  The coffee was the best part.  After breakfast, we reconvened outside for smokes, where I lit up my Ardor and published my entry while they went for a swim.  Even though I had packed my bathing suit, I had no interest in swimming.  We went back to the room and were out the door before noon.  My friends wanted to see an old plantation, and I knew that the John Dickinson House, a nearby NHL, was on a plantation, which would be perfect.

John Dickinson was interesting character in American history.  He wrote the Petition to the King in 1774, along with the final version of the Declaration of the Causes and Necessity of Taking Up Arms in 1775, which were the two precursors to the Declaration of Independence.  However, when 1776 came, he refused to sign it, arguing that it went too far, that America was not yet ready to declare Independence.  Instead he wrote the Articles of Confederation and served in the Pennsylvania militia as a general.  He would later become President of Delaware.  (This has been summarized from Wikipedia.)  I just wanted to visit another NHL.  It was closed on Sunday, but we snuck in and took our ceremonial pictures as I smoked my E.P. Carrillo.

After we were done, we went to downtown Dover and parked the car by the Old Statehouse.  We were hungry, but nothing was open.  It was practically a ghost town on Sunday mornings.  Even the VCs didn’t open until 1:30 PM.  I finished my cigar a little bit after 1 PM.





We took our ceremonial pictures in front of the Legislative Hall.  We then decided to sit in the shade, which resulted in us getting eaten alive by insects.  We headed to the VC and waited for it to open, but they had neither a Stamp nor an NPS brochure.  They did give me half a dozen Delaware flags as souvenirs.





We headed to the Old Statehouse, which was now open, and they had both, the Stamp and the brochure, each of which were useless without the other.  This marked my 240th National Park Site.  First State National Historical Park, it’s called, though it’s really just a collection of historic sites across the state grouped together as one NPS unit.  We were now starving, so we stopped for lunch at the first place we saw, a McDonald’s.  No way was I counting that as my first Official meal in Delaware.  We were in a bit of a time crunch to get the other two stamps.  I had estimated we would be at the next stop by 2:30 PM, which would give half an hour there and allow us to get to the State Park office at 3:30 PM.

Between the stop for lunch and traffic, it was 3:15 PM by the time we got to New Castle, which put us on a very tight schedule to get to the State Park by 4 PM.  It was doable, though.  I lit up my special anniversary edition My Father cigar, which was very disappointing for the price point.  What makes My Father cigars so special is that they are an excellent cigar at a very low price point.  This cigar was three times the price and not much better than the standard blend.  New Castle had two NHLs within a short walk of each other (one of them had a Stamp), along with being part of New Castle Historic District, so three NHLs.  I had utmost faith in my ability to do that all in fifteen minutes, even having time to stop for a souvenir.

As we were entering the historic district, we saw a sign that said “best coffee,” and my friends were more interested in that than taking ceremonial pictures at famous, historic sites.  They said they’d go to the coffee place, and we’d reconvene in 15 minutes back at the car.  We had parked in front of the George Read house.  He was one of two people to sign the Petition to the King, the Declaration of Independence, and the Constitution.  Roger Sherman was the other.  I took my ceremonial pictures in front of his house, and I still had plenty of cigar left.  I headed to the Old New Castle Courthouse, stopping at a disappointing souvenir shop.  I also realized that I forget to pick up a Sunday paper for my collection.

I took my ceremonial pictures in front of the famous, historic Old New Castle Courthouse, which was where the stamp was, ditched my cigar, and prepared to head in.  It said that it was closed because a tour was in progress.  Huh?  I should still be able to get my stamp, right?  Wrong.  The front door was locked, along with all the other doors.  Fuck.  That meant that I could not get all three stamps.  My friend messaged me, saying they were still at the coffeehouse and running a little late.  It didn’t matter.  The third stamp no longer mattered without the second one.  A brochure with two of three stamps is the same as a brochure with just one stamp.

I went to meet them at the coffee house and got myself a cup of coffee.  We joked if it would be the “best coffee” like the Chinese food last night was the best Chinese food in Dover and whether or not the coffee would make its way into my blog.  Spoiler alert: it did.  Wait.  I did that backwards.  The coffee was very good, and, the guy at the front told me where to get my newspaper, along with explaining what was meant by “tour in progress.”  It meant that the staff was leading a tour around town, so no one was staffing the Old New Castle Courthouse.  No longer constrained by time, we sat outside to enjoy our coffees as we took in famous, historic New Castle.

We headed back to the car, and I finished my coffee with a little bit of a cookie.  We headed out of town, driving by the Old New Castle Courthouse.  Wait, I saw the sign now said open.  Ooh, maybe I would be able to get this stamp after all, which was a much better stamp than the one at the State Park, anyway.  They were, and I did.  We then went to Walgreen’s, where I got the newspaper, along with picking up some Dogfish Head IPA next door.

We made our way to the State Park, which was still open, but all the facilities were closed.  There was a big sign that said “ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES PROHIBITED,” not that that stopped us from cracking open a couple of IPAs for our walk.  There was a thing to pay for parking.  You had to put cash in an envelope and write down all of your vehicle information, quite a process.  “They’re getting ‘Black Toyota with Rhode Island plates,’” I announced.  We also didn’t have the right change, so we could only put in for half of the requested fee.  We could have gotten away with not paying at all.  I lit up my H. Upmann, and we walked around, finding a trail, too.

We made our reservation for dinner at Delaware’s “most iconic” restaurant, a college bar by the University of Delaware, Deer Park Tavern.  The list said that college kids go there for nachos, burgers, and Dogfish Head Beer, which was exactly what I wound up getting.  After our walk, we drove to the bar, which did was not filled with college kids at all.  I guess college kids don’t get drunk at 6 PM on a Sunday, and it was still summer, too.  The meal was good, not as good as lunch yesterday, though, but I could tell it would a really fun place to go at night if you were a student at U of D.

After dinner, I walked out while my friends were paying the check.  I had given them cash for my portion, and they were using their cards to split the rest.  This was actually my first Official meal in Delaware, finally, after 28 years.  Once I walked out, I did my ceremonial announcement, something like, “Well, that’s Official, and I managed to make exciting Delaware Complete in the process.”  I had the meal, the Cuban, the NPS, and the Legislature.

I lit up an Avo, and we were soon on our way.  It was 7 PM, only an hour behind the original schedule I had drafted up, which meant that we could be at Penn Station by 10:30 PM.  It was 10:30 PM by the time we returned the car.  I did not get home until after midnight.  There was lots of traffic, everyone returning from their trip to the beach.  There was a line at the service plaza for gas, since New Jersey is full-service only.  It was an exhausting drive home, but we played Fearless for the ride, and we all sang along each time “Love Story” and “You Belong with Me” came on.  I got another coffee at the service plaza and finished my cookie with it.  Those cookies are so good.  This was a new drive for me, though I am quite familiar with the very similar drive Sunday night on the Hutch through Connecticut.

We got the airport, returned the car, took the AirTran to the train station, and a train was coming in ten minutes.  Of course, there was a delay on the train.  It was 11:45 PM when we got to Penn Station, three hours behind the original schedule I had drafted.  We said our goodbyes, and they took the subway to one of their houses, while I walked outside to get on a bike.  No bikes.  I walked.  I stopped at the corner deli by my place to get a diet cherry soda, which I quickly downed.  When I got to my apartment, it was sweltering, and the AC was not doing its trick.  It’s fine now, but I needed to just veg out while the AC kicked in, not smoking or writing.  Once I was sufficiently chilled out, both physically and emotionally, I lit up an OpusX and proceeded to write this entry.

I suppose some reflections are in order, but I am dead tired, and my cigar is almost done, so I will just say this.  We had an amazing time together, enjoying each other’s company and the famous, historic sites in our own way.  That was the fun thing about the trip.  We were interested in seeing most of the same sites but for different reasons, and we all got to do things we wanted to do.  I did what was necessary to say, “Delaware Complete,” and I found NHLs that they were happy to see.  They just want to go somewhere together, and this was a trip that worked for them.  I think it’ll probably rank pretty high on my list of weekend road trips.  With that I’ll close this entry, along with closing out the trip.  Next stop: Cuba.

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