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Grapes of Wrath (Or: We got wacky in Coxsackie)

366478-423845-thumbnail.jpgWell, the family's fresh back from vacation.  Coxsackie was beautiful this time of year...

Note to Chevy Chase:  If you ever come out of exile to do another "Vacation" movie, call me.  I've got some true to life stories that'll breathe some life--or more aptly, a highly contagious virus named after a town on the upper Hudson River in the lovely Empire State--into your aging movie formula.

No, I don't think you heard me, Chevy.

Call.  Me.

It was a dark and steamy scene that greeted us at 3 am... Roakdill happens at 3 am.  Raccoons, skunks, deer...  It's an hour that was only meant to be seen by newsmen dropping off the bulldog editions and the lucky few who are rushing through their walks of shame before the dawn so they can tell themselves they still made it home at night.  [Okay, not TOO autobiographical there... but I digress.]

This is us
The only other form of life that awakens for 3 am, usually in summertime in the Northeast, are the vagabond band of family vacationers loading their sleeping children into their vehicles loaded down with bikes, fishing poles and all our earthly posessions that would make the Jodes look like daytrippers. 

You can tell Hester Prynne by her scarlet "A" on her white blouse.  You can tell this certain brand of vacationer by their black "MV" in the white oval sticker.   And today is switchover day, and these happy wanderers have to be in line for a ferry at 6:30. 


  • That's the time you finished packing the family battlewagon. 
  • It also happens to be the temperature of your six year-old son when you pick him out of his bed.
  • And, it also turns out to be the number of yards you got after turning out of your street when he says,
    "Daddy, I think I'm gonna frow up."

And that was just 'Hour one'...

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