Days 39-43: A Week Back in New England (there’s no place like home...or is there?)

I have a disease. That disease is called the travel bug. It’s been affecting me my entire life, but now it is controlling me full force. And the best part is, there are no signs of a cure anytime soon, and even if there was, I would want nothing to do with the remedy.

I finally arrived back to Connecticut after traveling around the country for 6 weeks, and before I even had time to do my laundry or check my mail, I was preparing to go back on the road again. However, this time, I was going to stay in my home area of New England, to see more of the area I grew up in, and attempt to gain a higher appreciation of my roots. The night of my first full day back in CT, a handful of my close friends and I met up in New Haven for a “welcome back home” gathering to go barhopping and people watching, two of our most favorite things to do. Before going on my trip to the west coast, I used to pride myself on being from the New Haven area, and was always excited to inform people of the true beauty, diversity, cleanliness, and nightlife of the city. However, after coming back “home”, it simply did not feel like home anymore…something was different to me…New Haven felt just like another city and not like a place I still belonged in; it’s special charm that used to light my eyes with excitement…now gone. Perhaps that bulb had burnt out because I have just recently discovered better, perhaps I have overstayed my welcome; perhaps this was a calling for me to pack my bags and find a new home. I have spent so much time in New Haven that I could close my eyes and name every restaurant, store, bar, and club on every street and probably even know a person or two in each place without seeing them. This is not the type of place I wish to still live in; I yearn for a bigger city where I can get lost and then try to find my way back home, while discovering new things and places along the way. So although New Haven did not feel the same to me after seeing the entire country, I was still happy to see familiar places with familiar faces for the time being. Before meeting up with my friends, my cousin Steve and I walked around the Yale campus and admired the beauty of the buildings, which never fail to amaze me no matter how many times I see them. We then grabbed some hamburgers at the world famous Louis Lunch, where the hamburger was claimed to be invented. The night was perfectly finished by washing our dinner down with some half yards of Molson at Richter’s Bar near the city’s green while sharing stories of my travels amongst my comrades, and then parading over to an Irish pub called The Playwright to have some more brews for dessert.

Early the next morning I was back in the car again and off to Maine. Believe it or not, I have not been to Maine in about 11 years or so, even though it is only roughly 4 hours from my home, ergo, I was excited to finally be able to go back to “vacationland” to see it through adult eyes for the first time. Luckily, on my huge trip out west, I only saw rain for one night in a 6 week span, but on this mini trip around New England, Mother Nature was not so kind to me. I briefly walked around Old Orchard beach, which I can vaguely remember going to as a kid, and then arrived in Portland, where I had a show that night at the North Star Café. Before going to my show, I walked around the town in the pouring rain and had some clam chowder for dinner to warm me up, which New England, and especially Maine, is known for having the best of in the country. With soaked shoes, shirt, and all, I arrived at the venue for my show, and it actually turned out to be one of the best of my entire tour thus far; the crowd was pretty big and supportive, and I met some very interesting and kind people there, including a fellow poet all the way from Nicaragua. The next day I had really amazing Lobster Rolls (or Lobsta as we say it up in the northeast) at the famous Red’s Eats in Wicasset. I actually heard about this place originally because it is one of Andrew Zimmern’s most favorite places to eat in Maine, and of course I had to go there since I’m one of his biggest fans. I’m usually not a huge fan of lobster, but I guess that’s because I’ve never had lobster in Maine until now….wow was it amazing! The highlight of my time in Maine was still to come though, with the arrival to Bar Harbor to visit Acadia National Park. I have been to about a half dozen national parks this summer around the country, including Grand Canyon, the Badlands, Mount Rushmore, Carlsbad Caverns, and Petrified Forrest, and although Acadia may not have matched up to some of those other parks in the “awe and admiration” factor, it did possess some other attributes and characteristics that the other parks may have lacked a bit; a scenic drive along a beautiful ocean for one, beaches, and an breathtaking view on top of one of the highest points on the entire east coast. It is actually said that if you are on top of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park during the sunrise, you will be one of the first people in the entire country to see the sun’s first rays in the morning…now isn’t that something neat? Unfortunately, I couldn’t be one of those lucky people since it was raining out again the next morning, but I was able to enjoy some sunlight both the evening before while on top of Cadillac Mountain, and later on the next day while driving along the coastline, going to the beach, and hiking on some of the trails in the park. After being in Maine for only 3 days, I cannot understand why it took me over a decade to come back here after my initial visit, but I can assure one thing…It will definitely be much sooner than that until I come back here again.

Subsequently, I made my way over to New Hampshire, where I had lunch in the scenic seaport town of Portsmouth, and then drove up to Mount Washington. I was really looking forward to being able to see the spectacular views from atop the summit, but once again, Mother Nature decided to punish me. I still decided to make the drive up since I came all the way there, and I’m glad I chose to do so. Even though I could not see more than 50 feet in front of me at any given time, the 8 mile drive up the mountain was still something very exciting to do. When I finally reached the summit over 6,000 feet from the Earth’s surface, I truly felt one with the clouds and gained a greater appreciation for the natural elements surrounding me. The cold rain beating down on my face and the angry wind pushing me back in my tracks was refreshing to me after almost melting alive in the deserts of southern Arizona just a couple weeks earlier. As I stood next to the “Mount Washington summit” sign and a red fox crossed my path only several feet away from me, I realized why New England is home sweet home to me, and how I love the fact that I can still be able to wear a jacket and freeze my balls off in July. Even though my reasons may sound crazy to some, I guess it’s one of those things that only Natives of the area would appreciate and enjoy. So although I was not able to see the views from atop the pinnacle, I was able to enjoy and appreciate the mountain in other aspects, and will definitely return to it again sometime during Autumn to see the views I missed this time.

Lastly, I drove down to Cape Cod, which, believe it or not, was one place I have never been to. On the way there, I quickly passed through Boston, which brought a smile to my face, because I plan on moving there in September for roughly 8 months or so, and it was the first time I have seen my future home since March. On the way down the cape, it was pouring again, but I guess my prayers to the rain Gods were finally answered, because the sun finally started to peek out from behind the stratus clouds once I arrived in Provincetown. I was very excited to finally be able to visit P-Town, because as I stated earlier, I love people watching, and what better place to do it than one of the largest homosexual communities in the country? I just got back from San Francisco, so I figured this would be a similar scene except in a smaller scale, but I must say, to my surprise, the people of Provincetown are a lot more open even than the people of San Fran. Both cities have the gay pride flags swinging off of every lamppost and street sign in the city, but I saw things in abundance in Cape Cod that was almost unapparent in the Bay Area, such as drag queens walking the streets and advertising shows they were putting on later that night, over flamboyant individuals eager to spark spontaneous conversations with unexpected (and possibly homophobic) tourists, and hundreds of couples holding hands and making out with no regards for PDA. Coming to places like this always makes me happy and gives me some faith in the world, because it’s great to see that cities such as Provincetown exist where people of any orientation or background can come and be accepted with no discrimination. It’s a shame more places like this couldn’t exist…but hey…when extreme right wing conservative jerks run and reside in the majority of the country, what else do you expect? So after my observations, Cape Cod was more enjoyable for people watching than San Francisco, because of the fact that P-Town is more condensed and "in your face" since it's a much smaller area, even though San Fran by far is my top choice for favorite city, because the beaches and scenery and personalities and lifestyles of the people of the west coast are on a completely different plateau than on the east coast…sorry New England, the truth hurts sometimes : )

When deciding to take a trip around New England after just being around the rest of the country, I honestly had no idea what to expect, and now after arriving back to Connecticut, I’m still not quite sure how to process what I just saw. Did I just drive around my home area, or was it just another place on the map? Sure…New England allows me to relive the years of my youth and appreciate the area I grew up in…but at 22, do I really want to be rekindling the old flames of my past…or starting the new fires of my future? At this point in my life, I obviously have more questions than answers, and I think that many of these will never find a true answer until my final moments on this planet, but in a way, that’s the beauty of life, and these very questions are what keep me on the open road, searching for new places, for new homes, and for new pieces of myself. In just a couple weeks, I will be off to the Midwest to explore Chicago for the first time, as well as go back to Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky, but until then (even though I’m not quite sure in the validity of my next statement), I will attempt my best impression of Dorothy from the “Wizard of Oz” and whisper to myself that “there is no place like home”.

Days 26-38: Albuquerque, Denver, South Dakota…and the journey back home

California was the most amazing place I have ever been to, and it felt like home to me, but sadly, I had to leave there and return back to my home (for now) in Connecticut. After wiping the tears from my eyes from the thought of leaving the great Golden State, I started to slowly make my way back to the east coast. This started with a 7 day stop in Albuquerque New Mexico. My aunt and uncle live right in the city, so it was great to spend quality time with them during the 4^th of July holiday and have them show me around the area. I also got to meet my two adorable little cousins Sierra and Sydney for the first time, and we all watched the fireworks together on July 4^th, which was a great family experience. I also sampled a lot of traditional New Mexican food, including green chili, and some not so traditional items to the area, such as whole baby octopuses and amazing sashimi. I was quite surprised with the beautiful scenery of the area also, and every morning I would wake up to the breathtaking views of the mountains behind their back yard, and at night, downtown Albuquerque sparkled like a huge open treasure chest box full of diamonds and gemstones. I can’t wait to go back there in the near future to see the city and my relatives again.

After leaving New Mexico, I spent one night in Denver, Colorado, because I had a featured performance there. I was truly impressed with the beauty and cleanliness of the mile high city, but I personally didn’t feel like I was a mile above sea level, and even though I have asthma, I had no problems breathing there and felt no lack of oxygen. I left early the next morning and drove through Wyoming, where I stopped in Cheyenne for lunch. This was another city that I was impressed with, although it was a lot smaller and more desolate than Denver. I then made my way through western Nebraska, and truly felt in the middle of nowhere there, but the scenery there was also breathtaking, and I loved the feeling of driving on the open road with no one around. The mountains in Nebraska were also very beautiful and unique looking, which I definitely wasn't expecting to see while driving through the state. I finally made my way to South Dakota later that night, where I stopped at Mt. Rushmore to watch the lighting of the monument, which was a very nice presentation. I went to Mt. Rushmore again early the next day to explore it some more and hike on some of the nearby trails. I am usually not a fan of man made monuments and parks, and usually prefer the natural better, but there was something about Mt. Rushmore that was so breathtaking in its beauty, and the elements of the natural and man made are so perfectly intertwined in that area, plus you can’t help but feel extremely patriotic while those four amazing presidents are staring back at you. After leaving there and driving through the Black Hills region, I made my way to Badlands National Park, which was a truly amazing area and reminded me a lot of the petrified forest national park in northern Arizona. I drove through the various mountains and hills there for about an hour while mountains goats and rams were right alongside my car, and then I made my way about 4 hours east to the town of Mitchell, where a very famous Americana attraction is, known as the corn palace. Basically, I don’t understand the point at all about this place, but I’ve seen it on the travel channel before so I figured I would check it out. It’s basically just a large building partially made out of corn and inside the building is a gift shop with tacky souvenirs. After leaving there, I spent the night in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where I watched a very interesting laser light show on the river which had a narration about the town’s history.

The next day was a long day in the car, driving through states such as Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan. I spent the weekend in western Michigan with a long time friend, and we went to a few of the beach towns right along the Lake Michigan shore. I honestly was very impressed with that area of the state, and it truly felt like you were at an ocean and not just a lake. The scenery was very pretty and the shore towns reminded me of ones I would frequently see back home or in other New England states. The next day I briefly stopped at Kent State University in Ohio to see the memorial of the 4 students who were killed there during the famous shootings and protests, and then I spent the night in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The following day, unfortunately, I saw the “welcome to Connecticut” sign for the first time in over 5 weeks, and even though I made it back to my home for now, I am really hoping and planning that this will not be my home for much longer, because as you can probably guess, I am a true vagabond and don’t enjoy spending too much time in the same place, ergo, 22 years in the same town in the same state is long enough for me. Where will I move next…Boston? San Francisco? Another country? Who knows….but until then, my travels will soon continue with a small tour up to Maine, New Hampshire, and Cape Cod next week. Good night…and travel well my friends.