They Boys Are Back in Town

 

Sean was smart to miss out on the rain at the stadium

Sean has returned to Greenwich following his week in Ocean City, MD.

He first told me about the invitation a few months ago. I wholeheartedly endorsed it.

Then he told me the dates, and they were slightly problematic at first. They stepped into the back end of our planned Buffalo/Pittsburgh/North Carolina sojourn.

I considered different ideas but decided it would be fun -- if he was OK with it -- to drop him off in Ocean City.

He thought it was sort of nuts but he likes that sometimes.

His friends were fine with it and, after weeks of thinking, the whole plan took shape. If you've been following along here, then you know what happened.

We left for Buffalo on a Friday. We stayed there for two nights before heading to Pittsburgh on Sunday, staying in West Virginia that night. By late Monday afternoon, we were just outside of Fayetteville, NC.

Early the following Saturday morning, Sean and I left North Carolina and were cruising up U.S. Route 113 that afternoon to make the turn to Ocean City.

There are two routes that take you to the coast from U.S. 113: U.S. 50 -- the route that rolls over 3,000 miles from Sacramento, CA to Ocean City and MD Route 90, also called "The Ocean City Expressway." Delaware Route 1 becomes Maryland Route 528 at the state line coming in from the north.

Most expressways are at least two lanes in each direction. This was one in and one out. Not the smartest thing to go to a resort town but I'm not an engineer.

And that's where we slammed into traffic.

We were smart enough to run into a nearby (poorly marked from the main road) Royal Farms convenience store where we grabbed sandwiches and a restroom break, as we could see the brake lights ahead. Back on MD 90, we crept along for the final 5.7 miles, taking a half hour to get to the restaurant where his friends were waiting.

Somewhere along the line, he reminded me that I had encouraged him to go on this adventure. He's right. I sure did.

I know my son. I knew he needed this. He'd done school trips and some other things but really hadn't ventured out. Not like this. 

This was an opportunity too good to pass up.

I knew he'd see the miniature golf and love it. I knew he'd be into hanging out at the beach. I knew he'd love the shops and the vibe of a beachfront town.

I might not have the most experience with beaches but I have more than Sean. 

I knew.

But in the middle of traffic on MD 90, he started getting anxious with a side of grumpy. His concern about making our trip meet up with his friends rose to the surface as the brake lights persisted.

He's been an easy child to raise. At least for me. Anytime I saw something that didn't fly, I handled it. Most of the time I was diplomatic but occasionally a raised voice was necessary. Still, I had "The X Factor."

Even now, apparently, "The Look," perfected by parents for centuries, has an impact.

My father had it nailed. You wilted when you saw "The Look."

In this case, "The Look" wasn't necessary. Simply a firm voice worked.

"Calm down," I said. "They're not leaving Ocean City without you. If they leave the restaurant we'll find them at the condo where you're staying. You'll nag them for a location and we'll make it happen."

The traffic cost him a better lunch with his condo-mates, which included his friend Ethan and his parents, his good friend Chris, and assorted others. 

We reached Ocean City and did the quick loop around to pull into the restaurant. He was calm by that point and we walked in to locate the group.

Hellos and introductions were exchanged where necessary. I was assured he would have a good time and I had no doubt of that. Ethan, Chris, Sean, and the others were honestly going to have a blast. I thanked Ethan's parents for bringing him along. 

I knew it was going to be unforgettable.

I walked out to the parking lot with Sean, Chris, and Ethan. Chris runs a sign business in Dutchess County, so I showed him the current Robcasting banner to see what a new one would cost. He assured me he'd do something good.

I briefly laughed with Ethan about Mookie the Cat, named for former Met Mookie Wilson. Nothing like a tuxie, having owned two over nearly 30 years. Plus I knew I had an animal that I was heading home to.

With that, they grabbed Sean's bags and left. No big goodbyes. No expression anything other than "See you next week."

He was off and so was I. I drove around Ocean City for a few minutes, spying the mini golf and restaurants and the water park and ice cream places and it all looked great.

I thought it would be cool to stay but I'd been there long enough. This needed to be his adventure.

I drove home, not hearing from him until I was just about to exit Interstate 95 in Greenwich. He showed me a picture of Chris at Wawa, having his first experience there. He was converted instantly.

I heard from Sean basically every day as he told me about driving go-karts and going jet skiing and whatever else. In our exchanges, I caught him up on The Cat, Trumbull and Virginia, and anything else of note.

He also made sure to say how much want to go back to Ocean City -- with me.

I smiled.

Today, he was a bundle of stories upon his return to Greenwich. He raved about everything. All anxiety was replaced with excitement.

He doesn't have to go back to Ocean City with me though it wouldn't surprise me if he gets to go back with his friends again next year.

The day is coming when he won't be so amped up to travel with his old man and that's OK. It's how it should be.

But, at the same time, I like that he realizes adventures can be shared even when doing our own thing. The next road gathering is in New Orleans early next year. I'll consider it. That doesn't mean Sean has to go.

Yet I realize he's all in on another trip to Florida.

On the Cape May-Lewes Ferry, crossing Delaware Bay
(Sean Adams photo)

Yesterday, his crew drove out of Ocean City to Delaware and took the ferry to New Jersey. Then they slogged up the Garden State Parkway.

No shock there.

Above the trees are the lights of Heritage Financial Park
(Sean Adams photo)

In the car passing Heritage Financial Park, he sent me a text to say he was almost home. I told him the Renegades needed a cameraperson for the game.

After a back and forth, he declined. It was a smart move. The game got into the fourth inning before the second of two rain and thunder delays ended the night.

I told him many people asked where "Junior" was. That has become his nickname though I don't think he loves it. He smiles politely when it's said to him.

Early today, he was in his car for the first time in two weeks, on the road back to Greenwich.

He wanted to see his cat.

Oh, and maybe his father as well.

We're both hungry for that next call of the road. 

It will happen.

It's just a question of where and when.