East Coast Trip, 1996

    My aunt Julie, bless her soul, took me on a second trip in 1996, this time to the east. This one was greatly different from the one she'd took me on earlier in the year. There wasn't nearly as many adventures and natural wonders, but we met a lot of, shall I say, interesting people. 

    We took a plane to New York state to see our long-distance relatives over there. Each house we visited was one circus after another. At the first, in Albany, I met my 95 year old great grandmother and great aunt Barbara. At dinner there were four generations sitting at one table- a homely moment. But during the night, while I was lying on the floor trying to sleep with Julie, I heard my great grandmother whisper something strange from the hallway, as Barbara came out to get her. I swear I heard her whisper, "They're going to kill us!", as Barbara walked her back to the bedroom. So much for that homely feeling! When I told Julie the following morning, who'd evidently been asleep, she gave a hearty laugh, explaining to me what senility meant.
    The next house we visited was what Julie described as "ramshackle", another funny new word for me, in Schenectady, just a few miles away from Albany. I don't remember the details of what happened here, just that Julie wasn't feeling very welcome. They had a cat named Magic that I played with most of the time. That same day we visited another one of Julie's aunts, Amelia, who was suffering from Alzheimer's disease. She didn't speak or move. She was severely obese and drooling on herself. I felt so sorry for her, and a little ashamed for being unsettled by this side of the family. These were my grandfather's relatives, whom I never even knew personally.

    As time went on I tried to pay less attention to the people we were visiting, since I probably wouldn't see them again. I was more interested in the road trip anyway. We left Albany in a rental car, heading east into Massachusetts. In Amherst we visited Emily Dickinson's house, in mint condition straight out of the Victorian 19th century.  We took pictures of each other on her front porch, but the one I took of Julie came out blurry. I loved being in downtown Amherst. I'd never seen so many college students walking about, who mingled in and out of the cozy New England cafes.

    We drove through Boston on our way out to Cape Cod, where we briefly saw the Mayflower. We spent that night way out at the end of the cape, in Provincetown. So I had finally seen both major oceans. I remember feeling like a wise old soul out on the cape, after coming so far. Far indeed, for this was the period right after I stopped seeing my stepfather. There was an elemental sadness about the Atlantic, an ocean that wanted me to visit more but knew I couldn't, for there were graver times waiting for me at home. If an ocean can see the future, I wouldn't be surprised. A part of me felt like I shouldn't be there, that Julie was spoiling me, that I deserved to be wasting away at home. To an 11 year old, these feelings are huge. No one should have to face the sea of melancholia so early in life.

    New York City was mesmerizing. You never forget the first time you enter Manhattan. Towers that reach for the sky creep over the taxis as if the bowels of Hell had enclosed them in an environment of perpetual traffic. Mad businessmen on cell phones hustle down the streets, bumping into one another, jostling for position in the morning rush. Their avarice seems to blast over megaphones that perch on the tops of the buildings, every bit as disturbing as the ruckus and wrath of a war. All the artists are hidden away, observing the epicenter of the modern world’s madness through the binoculars of their studios. A lone weed grows through a crack in the pavement, seeking the Pleistocene environment that flourished prior to its disinheritance, and failing miserably.
    Julie did spoil me. We stayed at a hotel near Central Park. When we left to explore the city, she wanted to walk all the way to the Guggenheim, which was away from the skyscrapers. I hated the idea of walking so far. In my head, the real action was south, where 5th Avenue and Broadway beckon first time visitors. She ended up snapping at me for the first time, which I felt bad about later on. But we made up for it by spending a great evening together. I got my way and we walked down 5th Avenue. Our moods were quickly "risen" by the skyscrapers above us. Throngs of people were walking each direction, but I didn't feel claustrophobic. It was just another out-of-this-world experience for me. We went to the top of the Empire State Building and saw the whole city under a violet sunset. I remember the Twin Towers standing in the distance, and lights as far as the eye can see. It was so cosmic up there, at twilight when city life is peaking. Afterwards, we had some greasy New York pizza before walking all the way back to the hotel.

    We left New York driving down Broadway (again I was mesmerized by all the skyscrapers), veering to New Jersey on our way to Washington D.C. We saw all the monuments as we walked around the Mall, not that I knew what any of them meant at the time. The White House, Vietnam Memorial, Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument- these things don't mean much to little boys, yet they know they're important somehow and it mystifies them. I would have liked to see the Smithsonian, but there wasn't enough time. 

    The last dysfunctional family we visited was right outside of Washington D.C, the Jablonksi's at their family reunion. They used to be neighbors of Julie's back in the day. I remember meeting a schizophrenic man there, and thinking he was normal at first. Well, he spoiled the show by calling one of his nieces a "fatty", resulting in a shouting match with her mother. This woman yelled in front of everyone for like five minutes about how much she hated the guy. 

    That trip had some great highlights that got sandwiched between the weird families we visited. Still, we got free lodging most the time, and it was amazing to see so much of my country at such a young age. Thanks, Julie!