Friday Part 3

Merrily merrily and onward we go...


Part 3: Beauty In Decay
Crossing the border into New York from Vermont is almost like entering another country. The landscape is different for one thing. The roadsides of the Empire State are dotted with billboards, usually displaying some kind of public service announcement about drunk driving or buckling your seatbelt. We don't have billboards in Vermont, they're illegal. Why? Because tourism is our main source of income, and billboards clutter up the beautiful landscapes that attract travelers from all over the country. So when you drive down our interstates and winding country roads, your view of our gorgeous fields and foliage is untainted by gaudy advertising. This is another reason that Vermont is awesome.
There are other differences in New York's landscape, but I can not name them. For some reason, New York always seems more drab than Vermont. Ah well...perhaps I am just biased.

It's not that driving through New York is a complete and total bore. We did see some interesting things. We drove past a country store with a stuffed moose on the roof. We drove past a furniture store that had over-sized chairs, sinks and beds. Katie snapped a few pictures of some of these sights. And as always, there were plenty of cemeteries and abandoned buildings to admire, including a creepy looking abandoned church.
Eventually, we reached Troy, NY. I've driven through there before, in fact my mom and I blew a tire there once, and ended up spending an hour or so in the Hess parking lot, in the middle of a not-so-good neighborhood.
Luckily, there were no blown tires or other automotive mishaps, though we did have to endure some wretched traffic. While we drove through the bustling, ghetto-tastic metropolis we were treated to more interesting sights. There was a Popeye's Chicken, which we don't have in Vermont, as well as some really cool graffiti. We drove under some great bridges, which mom said would be great to live under, if you were homeless. We also saw really cool old buildings. We drove through dilapidated ghetto neighborhoods, but I found them, in an odd way, quite charming. I'm one of those people that finds beauty in decay.
Then we drove over a bridge which spanned across the Hudson River. I always like driving over the Hudson. The Hudson is as wide as the Connecticut (which I live near), but it seemed rougher, wilder, and more badass than the Connecticut. The water in the Hudson even looked darker and choppier than the Connecticut.

So we drove and drove, until Mom decided it was time for a pit stop. We stopped at Stewart's gas station, not far from Mechanicville, where we used the bathroom and got some drinks. Mom and I got bottles of water and fruit punch flavored Gatorade, but I don't remember what Katie got. I suppose it doesn't matter.
Once we were back on the road, I took my medication and finished off my chicken fries from earlier that day. I would have eaten the onion rings, but they had tasted weird in the restaurant, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to eat them now.
Finally, we made it to Mechanicville, NY, where we would be staying at my aunt's house for the night. We arrived at my aunt's house rather quickly, where, once getting out of the car, I expected to see my grandmother, whom I had not seen in a full decade.
The only person at the house was my Uncle Russel. He invited us in, and asked us if we wanted to eat or drink anything. We declined politely, and he informed us that my Aunt Elizabeth and cousin Sam had gone to pick up my Grandmother from my Aunt Jenny's cabin in Schroon Lake. Then, he asked us if we would like to sit in the living room, where there was air-conditioning.
Inside the living room, it was much cooler. We had some pleasant conversation, and mom showed off pictures of my nephew, John Peter. She also showed my uncle a picture of our 35 pound orange tabby cat, Kirby.
My aunt's dogs, a Greyhound named Tony and a Dachshund named Lucy were very eager to see us. Tony hopped into my sister's lap. Lucy could not hop into anyone's lap, since she was sitting in her crate. This is a good thing, she pees whenever she gets very excited.
Eventually she was let out, and I was the one she chose to jump on, covering me in happy slobbery little dog kisses. Thank god I had moist towelettes in my backpack. But I enjoyed snuggling with her, she has the softest fur I have felt on any dog, and she is very loving and affectionate. Tony, who reminds me of a little pony, with his eager little trot and short, smooth fur stayed with my sister. Dogs like my sister very much. So do children.

Then, at long last, my aunt arrived with my cousin and grandmother in tow. I was struck with some shyness. I hadn't seen Grandma in such a long time after all.
My cousin Sam stuck his head around the living room curtain and said a curtly and shyly: "Hello, Sara" before running away. Sam is very shy around me, for reasons I can't quite fathom.
Mustering my courage, I got up out of my chair, and walked slowly from the living room to the kitchen to greet my Grandma Libby. I had intended to speak in Spanish to her (she's Cuban), but upon seeing her I forgot, and merely spoke shyly in English and hugged her tightly.
She seemed older than she had been the last time I saw her. This was of course, inevitable, seeing as I had not seen her in ten years. I had also grown taller than her in the decade since we had last seen each other. This shouldn't have been a surprise either, but I couldn't help but be slightly shocked by this. But still, it was so very good to see her.

After we sat a spell in the living room, we decided to go to The Pasta Factory for dinner. Sam would not be going with us, because he wanted to go swimming at a neighbor's house. So it was just the adults. I would ride with Aunt Elizabeth and Grandma, Katie and Mom would drive in the Sunfire and Uncle Russel would drive in his own little red car, which is twelve years older than God and has been around since my childhood.
The ride to the Restaurant was very pleasant. I felt so happy, being near my Abuela again. I counted another cemetery and chatted with my aunt and grandma.
But alas, the ride was much too short, and soon enough we had arrived at The Pasta Factory, to enjoy a nice family dinner.

Coming up next...a tasty noodle dish, a bad movie and some really gross sound effects.