Greetings from the Ocean State ...
It's been a wild and crazy excursion so far. Let's start with last Friday, the day of the craziest bachelor party in recorded history.
I traveled up to Boston from Rhode Island early that afternoon on the commuter rail. I can report that the MBTA still sucks. Really, really sucks. No A/C. No lights. And the nice scent of smoke and burnt rubber the whole way. It grew so strong I got nauseous. I was legitimately worried I would throw up on the train.
I did not. I purchased a Coffee Coolata as soon as the ride ended and walked 20 minutes to the hotel. That did the trick.
I met up with the groom and we walked around Boston a little bit, including a memory stroll through the Northeastern campus. We even came across my old professor Linc McKie and talked a good 45 minutes in the school's spiffy new journalism office.
But let's get to the fun part. We assembled at the Pour House at 8 p.m. Zach arrived at the exact same time I predicted in my blog post. I knew I had secret powers. There are no pictures from this event. They've been confiscated for violating decency standards. I can say there was some alcohol, some nachos, drunken basketball in the rain and in the dark, Grimey slipping and falling twice, bloody socks and aliens on the radio.
Other than that, I cannot comment on what may or may have happened.
The three amigos then drove down to Cape Cod for some Chatham Anglers/Yarmouth-Dennis Red Sox action. We reminisced about the old days and even tried to come up with the top stories for each of us. In some later post, perhaps I will expound on mine because there were quite a few humiliating tales.
The three of us don't get to hang out that much anymore, so it was very nice to have a couple days. Some innocent games of catch. Some mean, mean heat from Cuban defector/pitcher El Searso. Some Pour House food. Some indie music and insufferable Morrissey. Exactly what I planned. I wanted one last "free" weekend to do the stuff we used to do for five years in college and that's what we did.
That's not to say I don't think we'll ever hang out like that again, but as the years go by, it does become harder and harder. Geography gets in the way. More and more responsibilities come into play and free time seems harder and harder to come by. Meshing schedules can sometimes be harder than a Rubik's cube. That's just the way life is, so I'm glad we at least got one "just the boys" type trip in before baldness, beer bellies and bunions kick in.
The three-day wedding extravaganza begins tomorrow. I will be sure to report back on that and on my short stay in the New York/New Jersey area. I spend a few days in Hoboken, N.J., and the mayor gets arrested?
Coincidence? I'll report. You'll decide.