16th
rock my world.
hello, freedom.
i decided to take a drive today. to see plymouth rock. The plymouth rock. the sun was out but it was cold—’very deceiving out there, young man,’ the old woman at the small antique shop said to me. i looked out the window cautiously expecting to see a tall, wiry-limbed man in a green three-piece suit with a pencil mustache selling smelling salts. but she was actually just talking about the weather. that it was bright and sunny but cold as fuck.
i ended up buying a record from her. jefferson starship’s red octopus. i have no clue what’s on the record, but the cover is awesome. it’s blood red with gold writing. there is a heart with octopus tentacles all over it. cool.
later, outside.
‘excuse me,’ i asked a man on the street, ‘do you know where plymouth rock is?’
it seemed like a funny question. the man didn’t say anything. he just pointed quietly to the distance.
i turned to see a tall, wiry-limbed man in a green three piece suit with a pencil mustache selling smelling salts.
no, i kid. i looked to where he pointed and there was a greek looking structure and my imagination darted across the street and under the columns and looked over the ledge and saw a big ole rock.
and that’s exactly what happened. i walked across the street. under the columns. leaned over the ledge and there was plymouth rock. it was actually bigger than i had imagined. while i was looking at the rock, a tour group walked in and the guide started talking in russian. america the beautiful!
off in the distance was a replica of the mayflower. it had christmas lights on it. i learned, from a plaque on the street that plymouth park is the smallest park in the massachusetts state forest and park system, but the most heavily visited.
BUMMER ALERT: the gift shops were closed for the season, though.
on my way out of town, i visited a shop called ‘the haunted curiosity shop of plymouth.’ a nice man sold me jasmine tea. i wanted to ask him what was so haunted about the old shop, but his breath smelled like fish and i had to leave.
i continued to drive up the road on that deceivingly cold day and went to visit the home of edward gorey. if you don’t know edward gorey, he just so happens to be one of my favorite creative talents. look to your right. that man in the fur coat is edward gorey. and his house was awesome. the special exhibit this month was ‘edward gorey and the performing arts.’ did you know that he won a tony for his costume design for dracula in 1973? and that he was so enamored by george balanchine’s work with the new york city ballet, that he didn’t go to the ballet after balanchine left? i couldn’t like him more if i tried.
i came home to francis in a cute little plaid shirt sitting on the couch with his jeans cuffed. he was probably jealous of my adventure. but he didn’t let on. i showed him the record.
hello, freedom. it’s nice to see you again.
