Stop and go with the flow

Luis's mom Carmen and stepdad Frank live on a 150-year-old farm in Maryland, 20 miles due north of Washington, DC. It's a bucolic escape from the grime and grit of New York. I did my time in the Virginia suburbs--12 years' worth--and frankly I don't miss them. Still, it's nice to get out every now and then and smell the roses.

We left Brooklyn yesterday afternoon a little before 1:00 and made it to Luis's mom's by 4:00, with one stop along the way. There's no other way, short of flying in a private plane, to go those 220 miles that quickly. It was a splendid day for driving. As we approached town a sign announcing the upcoming Strawberry Festival waved overhead. We arrived as the sun cast long shadows on the lawn. Frank had just finished mowing the 3-acre lawn, and the smell of the freshly cut grass was intoxicating. A hard rain the previous night had snapped open the irises, pansies, rhododendrons, and crocuses. The four of us sat on the front porch drinking a bottle of champagne. Luis and i went down to the corral to see the horses, Mr. and Mrs. Horse, but they were out being ridden. We climbed over the fence and wandered over to the lily pad pond, where Luis spotted a water snake.

Carmen threw together a fantastic dinner of sauteed shrimp and scallops, a tomato and avocado salad, and basmati rice. We sat on the verandah and had a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and talked about Fellini movies in the cool air as a full moon waxed overhead. By 10:00 the alcohol was starting to get to me. I was pretty zonked. Hot times in the burbs.

Today we met our friend Johnny for brunch in DC and then headed home. The gloriousness and relaxation of the previous day wore off as we left DC at 1:30. Traffic headed to the Capital Beltway was smooth. Then we hit 95. Traffic was horrendous. About 2 hours into the trip we stopped to get gas and go to the restroom. About 10 minutes after stopping I had to pee again, but we were determined not to stop a second time. Little did we know we would be pulling into Brooklyn at 8:00. On the New Jersey Turnpike, I desperately wanted to heed the warning of a neon sign with several letters missing, but I couldn't.

It said Reduce _pee_.