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On the Road with Kevin
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Entry 4
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German quips in Boston. I think the Germans have a much better word for it than we do in English, as it’s harsher sounding and more apropos to the frustrating situation. The Deutsch call it stau (pronounced “sht-oww”), and it refers to the mind-numbing, headache-inducing plight of fighting through crowded and congested traffic. As I neared Boston, I was right in the middle of some of the worst stop-and-go traffic I have ever been witness to, but I at least took a little satisfaction in being able to smile and murmur out “bleeping stau” every once in a while. Even though the Germans have the alacrity of their amazing Autobahn, I have also experienced firsthand over there the sudden suppression of going from 225 kph (I’ll let you do the math on that one) to bumper-to-bumper stau in a heartbeat. So I know somewhat from whence that fitting term came.
 I was meeting “Megan” in Boston this night, and I was very excited to get to the well-known Massachusetts city. Now if only I could remember how to spell Massachusetts every time I have ever used it in my life. I suppose one might wonder at this point what some of the qualities are that I’m looking for in a person or what type of woman seems appealing to me.
I feel that’s rather hard to answer or convey in a written form such as this, but I don’t think there’s any one set blueprint for what I’m usually drawn to. I guess to me, at least, it’s almost akin to trying to pinpoint one exact reason or list of rules for why you and your best friend sometimes seem to have a connection that is not of this world. It’s quite hard to put that into words … One just sort of knows. I almost hate to define looking for someone by placing her in categories, because I think I’ve tried to understand over the years that some of the best things that have ever happened to me might not have occurred had I been preoccupied with forcing them to fit into a nice, neat, little box.
I suppose it would be helpful if she spoke English. Oh, I’m just kidding. I DO think, though, that enchanting is a pretty compelling characteristic. Of course I realize that nobody out there can match up to Hollywood’s version of the classic heroine, and that’s not what I’m looking for either. But I think a genuine, genuine warmth of spirit combined with a lively personality and a certain bit of vivaciousness is a pretty remarkable thing.
 And I know the phrase sense of humor gets flippantly tossed around all the time, but I truly feel it just might be one of the strongest and biggest factors in forming a special connection with someone than many of the other traits a person can have. I am going to louse something up from time to time. She is going to be late or forget something on occasion. However, if both people can laugh it off and work it out while trying to see the situation for what it honestly is, then I think they are way ahead of the game. And again, I know this isn’t real life all the time by any means, but perhaps a cool notion that comes to mind are the feelings in the last scene of the film Amelie, where the couple is cavorting about the roads surrounding Sacre’ Coeur. Pretty cool stuff and fun day.
 Friends at The Tea Party. Anyway, I made it to Boston but Megan couldn’t catch up with me till later in the evening, so I first dropped by to see some other friends of mine who live in the Harvard area, Pat and Tammy. I soon after learned that yes, indeed, it is actually pronounced “Hah-ved” in this region of the country, and I quickly tried to sublimate my tongue to pick up the local accent and lingo. I knew Pat and Tammy from when they used to live out West, and they have four children (I did say four) who definitely have to be some of the most normal, well-adjusted kids I have ever been around. I just so happened to have the chance to play their oldest son in Ping-Pong as well. Man, how do these kids today get so good at everything at such a young age?… I knew I’d be able to visit my friends more over the next day or two, though, and it was finally time to go meet Megan.
 Java in New England. We had decided to hook up at a nearby Starbucks, so I strolled down the street to find the coffee joint with the green sign. Now this situation is a little more nerve-wracking to me, because you don’t really know if you’re going to be the first one there, or if she has beaten you to the punch and is already waiting for you. And of course you don’t quite know if you’ll recognize her to begin with, so you end up doing that casual walk through the place trying to read other people’s faces for any faint sign of apprehensive recognition. I was very much the first one to arrive, and I saddled up to the counter to wait for her and pretend like I was reading the paper. I was glad we were meeting at a public place, however. I didn’t want anybody I would be meeting throughout the course of this entire trip to have any concerns about safety issues, as I understood they didn’t really know me yet and I wanted to make sure everybody felt comfortable.
I instantly knew it was Megan when she walked in the door, and after exchanging the usual, “Hey, are you Megan? Yeah, you must be Kevin?” routine, we greeted with a quick hug and tried to determine how we were going to paint the town red. It’s a good thing the baseball team’s socks were already taken care of on that front… One less thing for us to do. Again, she was fairly tall at around 5’8” or so, with brunette hair and some smaller, stylish hoop earrings. She also had some really nice, longer legs which is never a bad thing in my book by any means. But she was wearing this killer red scarf that really added some pizzazz and drew my eye in. Did I mention she smelled pretty good too?
 We headed over to Harvard Square (say it with me, “Hah-ved”) and proceeded to circle and circle the area searching for any kind of parking spot. I have heard many stories about Boston’s driving and parking conditions, and it was easily living up to its reputation. Harvard Square is just a place that houses numerous restaurants and trendy little stores and such, and we made our way to of all places, another coffee shop to get to know each other. One of the things that had interested me about Megan in emails and phone calls was the relaxed communication style she seemed to have, as well as a love of books and old movies with the likes of Bing Crosby and Cary Grant. Now I’m not as voracious of a reader as my mom by any means, but I do enjoy a fantastic book from time to time and think one can learn a lot about a person from their literary tastes… Or whether they even read at all. And come on, what guy hasn’t wanted at some point to be as dapper as Cary Grant with his herkie-jerkie, rhythmic way of speaking? If you say no, I don’t believe you.
Later on, we drove around trying to find something a little more active and fun to do to loosen things up somewhat. But with it getting late and being a chilly night in Boston and all, we quickly determined the only thing happening for miles and miles was Boston’s other favorite pastime: beers and bars. I don’t think most Bostonians even realize that that little Samuel Adams guy on the sides of their bottles was a REAL, living person many moons ago. See, now I’m just playing with you, Boston. Friends? You, of course, are probably the people with the most knowledge about who he actually was and what he did for our country. Anyway, Megan and I did manage to find an awesome, quiet bar and continued to hang out throughout the evening.
 Spires, Squires, and Sires. The next day I plunged into the depths of Boston’s actual downtown and tried to explore in a short amount of time as much of this fascinating city as I possibly could. I decided I could very much live in Boston. All of my friends who had been out to this area kept telling me that I would really like Boston, but I just don’t think I had any idea how welcoming and entrancing it would feel. I’m not exactly sure what it was… It’s hard to put a finger on it.
 Maybe it was the colonial lines of the architecture, cupolas, and spires. Or perhaps it was the hustle and activity of the streets, which still felt oddly friendly and endearing for a city of this size. It is just a very inviting place for some reason. I romped around the grounds of Boston Common, waved hello to Mr. Washington riding high atop his horse, stopped in to say hey to Sammy, Cliffy, Norm, and the gang at the country’s most famous watering hole, and checked out a whole host of other sights in the glimmering sunshine as well. I now just needed to dump on a full bottle of cologne, purchase a thick, gold chain, and start sporting a Cliff Huxtable sweater from the ‘80s to be in step with some of the other guys I saw walking around.
 The following morning I was supposed to meet up with another gal in Boston, “Andrea,” as we had set some things up over the last couple of days and I just needed to phone her briefly in the morning to finalize a plan. After running some errands that a.m., I returned to hear a message similar to this on my voicemail from Andrea: “Hey Kevin, thanks for making it to Boston. I don’t think it’s going to work out, though. I’ve been seeing somebody for a little while and I just don’t feel comfortable about the situation and with him and everything. Take care.” And so on. Well, needless to say, I was a little surprised, but I guess that’s the way things go sometimes. I was pretty confused, though, why she would go to the trouble of several emails and phone calls to set this up, only to already be dating somebody and back out at the last minute. I guess it might be best to leave that with no further comments.
 Sports activities a go-go. So this just meant I had more time to spend with my friends and their four kids (yeah, it was still four). Can anyone say a day full of sports merriment and a plethora of outdoor hilarities? First it was off to the youngest son’s soccer game, which is always a cool thing because I played soccer since I was five and it’s still my favorite sport. Except for maybe curling… Man those athletes work up a sweat. Then we high-tailed it over to the Harvard campus to catch the women’s soccer team in a brilliant afternoon match.
 And wouldn’t you know it, but the Harvard football team just so happened to be in town, so we partook in some of that action as well. It was here that I was corrected with very caring but stern words that the caffeinated beverage everyone was drinking is actually called soda, not what I know it to be called. And in case you’re curious from my first journal entry, no, I still had not drunk any yet this year… Pop, that is.
 Throughout the day, Megan and I had also been trying to see if we could make it work to be able to meet again that night. We had tried the previous night as well, but she had been busy with a private party at the restaurant/bar where she works on the weekends. She works with kids during the weekdays, and really seems like she’d be a natural with them. And unfortunately, things didn’t pan out to be with her on this night either, as there were some other things she had to take care of on her end. Again, the logistics and schedules have just been hard sometimes on this trip. That was too bad, as she appeared to be a cool and intriguing lady and I would have liked to have learned more about her in person at that time.
Alright, I’ve been to other large cities around the world in the past, but now it was time to head to THE biggest and brightest city of them all: Yep, you guessed it, Hartford, Connecticut. Ok, really I’m talking about The Big Apple, The City that Never Sleeps… New York City. And crap, where was ‘Ole Blue Eyes himself when I needed him to croon through my speakers about, If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere?! I had mistakenly left Mr. Sinatra at home I soon realized. So I had to make due with the crafty tunes of Matchbox 20. Pretty much the same thing. Right? I was so completely electrified to hit the greatest city on earth. Until next time… Guten tag und guten abend.
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