Monday, July 5, 2010

A Day in the Country, July 4 2010

Everyone I know can leave everything behind and spend some money to go somewhere. This is a story about how hard it is for us to actually do this.

We really do have the resources to spend our weekends doing something besides sweating at the dining room table typing on a laptop (expect 97 degree heat today). But the requirements of the business do not allow for abandoning our responsibilities for more than a day. We were granted this day, yesterday on July 4th, to visit the country. Since I also have some work to do on 07/05, this seemed a good idea and manageable time if we left very early in the morning.

So we rose around 6:30 am and got our water-containers together, maps and printings so that we could go to, variously (1) Storm King sculpture park, south of the Catskills (2) Dia Beacon, a big-format contemporary art warehouse, just across from Newburgh, and (3) Olana, Frederic Church's house that he designed, just South of the town of Hudson. Church's house was my original goal, and I am a fan of Cole, Durand, Church and the whole Hudson River School thing, which goes back to 1860's or so, preceding American Impressionism and true plein-air painting. But Darling wanted us to hit other spots as well, and given a whole day ( ! ) well, why not? Darling agreed that we should aim first for Olana because we needed a formal tour to see the house and maybe we could beat the crowd.

A breakfast at a roadside diner is absolutely necessary for any road trip, and so about an hour into the trip we stopped outside of Newburgh for pancakes and omelette. Before I could tell what was happening, we read a good portion of the Sunday Times and drank 3 cups of coffee. Time to go! No.... after merging back onto the NYS thruway I was chided for forgetting to suggest we fill up on gas here in the cheaper boonies. We exited again at Saugerties. This was the time for gas and cleaning the windshield and checking the oil and checking tire pressure. Not sure why this couldn't be done the day before, but sobeit.

Small problem, no gas station in Saugerties had a working air pump. This entailed more touring of the beautiful Catskills, on and off the thruway. Note that we were on the West bank of the Hudson, Highway 87, not the scenic 9G on the East bank. When we find an air pump, we receive a call from our friend, the wife of a man who is dying at home in Brooklyn. The hospice workers have left and it is time to go say goodbye to him. We are in the Catskills, instead. We will come tomorrow, we tell her. I don't hear this conversation, Darling is on the phone with her.

We didn't get to Olana until 11:30. Normally this is perhaps a 3 hour trip nonstop so given our feast at the diner we were maybe an hour behind my internalized schedule. There was no tour for us until 1 pm, so we hiked on their little trails which now terminate on route 9G. I'm thinking, 1 pm, 1/2 day in the country over, man!

Olana was quaint and filled with all the Church's objet d'art, gathered from a lifetime of travel ( ! just rubbing that in for me) to the Syria, Persia, Mexico, Jamaica etc. He actually went to Petra on the back of a camel, but Mrs. Church declined. I was reminded of the Feminist costume exhibit I saw the Met, where they had a series of Victorian "sports" outfits for the wealthiest women. They had Tennis suits, Golfing suits, Riding suits. Where was that Camel ensemble? Would she have gone if she had something to wear??!

OK, good show. Great View. took some pics. Time for lunch! Let's go into Hudson, just 3 miles up 9G.

At American Glory BBQ, I order a shandy (super, lemonade and beer to ease my sun-stroke), and a Crab burger. Darling watches his diet assiduously, and orders the "smokehouse salad", but please, without the Ranch dressing. $12 salad arrived with wilted greens and a few cucumbers. Discussion ensues with Nicole, who must have just graduated 11th grade yesterday and was shrinking from Darling's explanation of the absurdity that his salad had nary a piece of chicken, or any other attraction, for $12. Although menu asserted that chicken was part of the deal, Nicole said that would be another $4. More discussion with Manager. Chef also came to visit. Nicole has made a mistake, possibly because the request to omit dressing. OK, Darling thinks my crab burger is great, he'll have one of those instead. Many minutes go by... they are preparing a catering delivery and loading a car out front... Darling goes up to Manager and asks about burger, we get it right away.

OK, time to go! Our day in the country is wasting. Oh, it's 3:15. When does Dia Beacon close? "Let Nicole earn her tip", but poor Nicole is still shrinking from us and brave manager instead gets us the telephone number. Great! 6 pm closing time, we can make it. I pay the bill with cash. I note approvingly, Manager comp'd us our drinks.

The 94 Saturn no longer breathes cool air for us on these unimagineably hot days. The bridge on 9G is out, just below Olana, so with the complications of detours in Germantown, we decide it is fastest to go back onto 87 for the 1.5 hour trip down to Beacon. It is HOT... windows must be open, so we cannot hear the radio. Sun is beating down on me in the passenger seat, I am clothed in bug and sun-resistant hiking pants, elastic at the ankles. Now I put on the long-sleeved white shirt and my boating hat (with chin strap so the wind doesn't pull it out the window). I think of my outfit at the end of the line of those elegant women, in the Metropolitan Costume exhibit. The sport in this case is "Riding in the Saturn".

I am falling asleep... I begin to fear that Darling will also fall asleep and we will crash on the NYS thruway. So I start singing. Our friend who is going to leave this earth comes to mind and the only songs I can think of are ineffably sad ones from Carole King. Darling asks for Sandy Denny's song, the same one my cousin wanted played at his funeral, I just can't remember and so now instead of sleeping I am crying.

We finally get to Beacon, around 5 pm, I have been baking in the Saturn and brain is like toast. Can't wait! fabulous large-scale work by Richard Serra, a whole room of Agnes Martin, crazy big works by those 'Earth" sculptors etc. Oh my, why is my bag so light, here's my camera, here's my sunglasses case, here's my.... where is my wallet. Oh. My wallet is not here. It is on the table back at the American Glory BBQ in Hudson.

Darling disappears because he doesn't want to deal with my fit. It is a very controlled fit, I go into the museum and distractedly realize I have no money for admission. But I still had the cell phone. Darling had bought us the tickets and was in the other building. After meeting him I go to the counter and say, in my most ingratiating way, please look up the phone number for this BBQ joint in Hudson, I left my wallet there. Charming people at Dia, armed with number I am able to get Candace at the restaurant and tell her we'll be by in perhaps 3 hours. Meanwhile, we have 1 hour to tour Dia. Bruce Nauman, etc... very calming for someone without ID.

At 6 pm, discussion with Darling about what to do, cannot face route 87 again and it is 100 degrees in the car without a/c. Must take route 9G, scenic route recommended by AAA. I will drive, Darling! It's my fault! Yes, adjust the driver's seat, and locate the clutch which I haven't put my foot on in many many months. Right. Car starts when clutch is depressed. But wait, no license, it's in Hudson. Can't drive after all. But we need ice coffee.

Darling stops at a bar. No (of course) they don't have ice coffee. Try the Stewarts, up the street. Stewarts has two youths working behind the counter. They will not start filling an order until at least 4 customers have given theirs. They are very confused by the request to pour ice coffee with ice and milk, No Sugar, No Whipped Cream. Small child is screaming in the background, fat lady next to us gives identical ice-cofee order and so, 15 minutes later, I get mine and tell Darling there is sugar in it. Oh, the girl at the counter says to us, it's in the formula. Well, Darling says, I want my money back. Down the road a bit, the town of Wappinger Falls is really shut down-- it's July 4th! The McDonalds ice coffee is terrible. I feel responsible, I left my wallet on the table at American Glory. Some kind of poetic fate here on July 4th.

Darling drives us back to Hudson, but this time along one of the most scenic routes in America! there's FDR's place, in Hyde Park ! (next time) There's a Vanderbilt mansion! (next time) and the Rhinebeck Fair in Dutchess county, it is fabulous. Why did we ever suffer on route 87, I cannot think. After the detour in Germantown, through some lovely farmland, I remember the Sandy Denny song, Who Knows Where the Time Goes, and I croak this out while we pass Olana again.

Back in Hudson, I retrieve wallet (conceivably an embarrassing moment, given our salad-hour and Nicole's possibly getting fired for it) and walk around so-called business district. Very sad, many formerly beautiful buildings about to fall down and several tatoo'd types prowling the sidewalks and living in these ramshackle buildings. Dinner? no, let's get on 87 and go home, it's 8:15 pm

Miraculous ride, Darling has the energy after our marathon day in the country to drive straight thru. We survive the traffic in the Bronx and Queens. Happy July 4th !