Over and Back

Conclusion: vacation means people and food. Started right in on Friday at 5:10pm when college friends Emily and Dee-Dee intercepted me at 17th and Congress. I was full from a multicultural lunch tasting on the first floor of my place of employment - Swedish meatballs, Hungarian goulash, Chinese dumplings, Indian fried rice, Texas BBQ, German cake, and on and on - so I gave my lunch sandwich to the girls, and off. An abbreviated beer bar tour punctured by a tour of the capitol. Leisurely expedition of downtown, people in the streets in good cheer, words flowing out of our mouths with ease and excitment, and cicadas on pavement signifying a marriage of nature and urbana. Leisure is the key word.

Realized I haven't left Austin in six months, perhaps the longest I've ever been in one municipality without journey. It's been good, but it's time, time to flutter the wings. I quite like being in airports. A young attractive Asian woman with a walking stick, a financial-looking dude likely off for a weekend of golf... wandering these big open corridors, windows look out on pavement planes and planes, we are jet set. At least in appearance. Could be going anywhere, and I love it.

Mom and Aaron pick me up in Manchester, NH a bit after midnight, to drive to Ocean Park, ME. On Sunday, Buddy and Nate take the train up from Boston, and the Kitchels are driving through. To the beach for catching up, all around. Don't check the email, don't look at the phone. To the Clambake for fried scallops and clams, supplemented by fries and one of my favorite cole-slaws. One of the meals I've been waiting for. "Starry Eyes," by the Austin band Two Hoots and a Holler, pops into my head. When things come together, it's a sensory paradise. And these moments are fleeting, here and now. All I can do is embrace the feelings when they occur, and accept the others when they don't. Aaron, Bud, Nate, and I continue the night with a melange of scotches and gins on the indoor porch - like our grand and great grandparents' generations, methinks - and a hop around the bars of Old Orchard Beach. Quiet night, but it doesn't seem to matter. Good company, starry eyes.

Roll, almost literally, out of bed on Monday morning, for a great breakfast with Mom and the above crew at Josef's. Then we play shuffleboard the only way I really know how: on the ground, with big sticks, perhaps the way Teddy Roosevelt would've done it. Everywhere else it's tables and hands. Bud and Nate back to Boston, and the rest of the day is walking on the beach, intense conversation about purpose in life, and food more food lovely food. Sit out at the beach tables at the Brunswick with homemade Clam chowder under expansive purple sky-come-moonlight, walk the peaceful avenues of Ocean Park with coffee frappe. An interlude to see Taking Woodstock (amusing and decent), and more philosophy with Aaron. Eyelids get very heavy, until cousin Dan arrives (via train) at 1:45am to keep things going. My stomach is worn out and my eyes are sore, but my mind is sharp as a tack.

The days continue like this, food and talk, with people I like. Tuesday is fried scallops and clams for breakfast, corn casserole for lunch (one of my favorites growing up), two lobsters and tons of steamers for dinner - an ambitious and filling meal, and I will carry the memory with me for months, because I must - and a butter crunch frappe for dessert. Jesus buddha, one of the best things I've ever had, and I had forgotten that. Wednesday we meet Susanna in Portsmouth, a "city" of the type that I've been missing - cobble stones and brick buildings and oddly shaped town squares. They weren't as efficient at urban planning when they started this country, and I am thankful for that, y'all. Great meal and brews and good times at the Portsmouth Brewery. Then a nice visit in New London with Marion and Charlie. In Danville, down to Ryan D.'s for beer and wine and tasty garlic-tinged burgers and rice pilaf and chips and catching up out on the patio. So full. I had to burp twice - really, I had to. Aaron and I made a last-minute decision to hit the Packing House around 12:30 for pool and... atmosphere. Thursday breakfast over at the Danville Restaurant - blueberry pancakes and sausage, coffee and water - I will pat myself on the back for getting in so many of my favorite meals this week. Dinner with Dad at Elements - I believe the best I've ever had there - Mongolia-spiced chicken wings, an awesome veggie-cheese strudel, and a delightful bottle of rose. Friday Aaron made baozi, and it was great. People came in and out. Friends and relatives, baozi and coffee. Dad put together a great dinner of shrimp linguini, and later Aaron and I drank some good beers with Andy, Shannon, and Nick, and that was that. Have I said too much? It takes long winds to describe the satiating of great appetites for food and company.

All this time I am living it up and not paying attention to time. Only on Saturday morning, when Mom slicing up onions reminds me of some great turkey sandwiches and subs I've had in past days in New England, only then do I realize that my time has been short, and that I might like to stay a bit longer. But moments come and pass, materialize and succeed one another. Touchdown at the Austin-Bergstrom International Airport brings to mind an evening of six months ago. Convert an almost-wistful historicization into an open-minded, optimistic vigor. I will take the bus back on this overcast night, walk down South 5th to a taco wagon, and wander the streets of South Austin, streets that I miss more than I thought I might. There are streets everywhere, each offering different experiences. The same might be said of food and people.