October 5, 2017. The Big Dig and the Cape. Something Ain't Right.

October 5, 2017.  The Big Dig and the Cape.  Something Ain't Right.  The day began so well.  We left the Yankee Clipper Inn after a large breakfast.  My plan was to drive around Boston, heading south to the Cape.  We were getting low on supplies, so I located a Costco on the west side of Boston.  So far, so good.

Have you ever grocery shopped on a full stomach?  It is the opposite of shopping on an empty stomach.  When you are hungry, everything in the store looks good.  When your hunger is sated, nothing really appeals to you.

That was us.  We spent a half-hour in Costco and left with three items.  The total bill was about $35.00.  It is nothing to spend several hundred dollars at Costco because everything is sold in such large volumes.  I should have known something was wrong when all I could spend at Costco was $35.00.

I drive using two GPSs.  One is portable and one is built into the car.  A GPS is not perfect.  Dan, our son-in-law who works for Garmin, says a driver should always default to local knowledge.  That is, if the GPS conflicts with what your sense of direction tells you, you should follow your own instincts.  The GPS will get you where you want to go, but it may not be the most direct route or the fastest route.  Having two GPSs helps me check one against the other.  Usually it works.

But, not today.  Both GPSs told me to turn toward Boston, rather than connect to the outer loop which would have taken me through the suburbs and away from the congestion of downtown Boston.  My instincts told me that was wrong.  Worse, Annie Farkley and her ever-present Atlas told me it was wrong.  But, I wouldn't listen.  I drove directly into the Big Dig.

The Big Dig was the most expensive highway project in America.  It is a 3-4 mile tunnel under Boston.  The dig began in 1991 and concluded in 2007.  It cost American taxpayers nearly 15 billion dollars.  Only Tip O'Neal and Ted Kennedy could have pushed through such a massive expenditure for 3.5 miles of highway.

Into the tunnel of darkness I went.  My GPSs both stopped working because the connection to the satellite was blocked.  When I arose into the daylight, the traffic on I-93 had stopped.  Two police cars passed as if in route to an accident.  So, I outsmarted them.  I got off the interstate.

In two minutes I was completely ensnarled in Boston intercity traffic.  I sat at one stop light while it cycled through four times before the light allowed me to turn left.  In the meantime, I watched a drug deal being consummated on the sidewalk.  The guy on the left above just finished counting the proceeds and stuffed cash in both front pockets.

At another intersection, the oncoming traffic continued to turn left as the light changed.  Because of the traffic snarl on the intersecting street, they blocked the intersection when the light was green for me.  By the time they cleared the intersection, my light was red again.  Cars beside me, behind me and those in front of me honked incessantly, to no avail.  That light cycled five times before I got through the intersection.  Of course, Annie sat quietly as all this chaos settled around us.  NOT.  I could barely hear the horns around me.  Annie reminded me several times that she and her handy Atlas had tried to spare us this result.  It got so bad that I almost became a honker, too. I resisted the impulse.

Eventually, we emerged from the inner city and made it back onto the interstate.  Not long thereafter, we passed Plymouth Rock and entered the Cape.  Two hours later, we were safely ensconced in our condo.

We had dinner at an Italian restaurant and returned to the condo before dark.  We were carrying in some last items from the car when I reached for the house keys.  They were not in my pocket, not in any of my pockets.  Annie was completely understanding.  She called me a few of her endearing and pet names.  I said nothing.  I had been the keeper of the keys and I had lost them.

I called the owner of the condo and he directed me to a bush on the patio where he had hidden a spare key.  Well, he tried to do that, but I wound up on the wrong patio.  When I told him there was no bush where he said it was, he told me I was on his neighbor's patio. I found the correct patio but couldn't find the correct bush.  I uprooted several before finding the correct bush.  At last, I found the hidden key.

We entered the condo and I called the restaurant.  Yes, I was told, another diner had found the keys in the parking lot.  Evidently, the house keys came out of my pocket when I removed my car keys.  The parking lot was covered with gravel, so I didn't hear the keys hit the ground.  We retraced our steps to the restaurant and retrieved the keys I had lost.

I'd like to tell you that Annie is waiting patiently to proofread this blog.  Unfortunately, she is exhausted with me and is curled up on the sofa.  I don't blame her.  I haven't had a good day.  And, it started so well.  Oh, and there is one last note.  The NFL Thursday Night Football game is being broadcast in Spanish.  Something ain't right.  I think I will go to bed.

Tomorrow is another day.  Goodnight.