September 15, 2003

• Rockport

  
  

  

  
  

  On Sunday we hopped in the Taupemobile bound for Mass MoCA out in North Adams. Armed with our dunkies and aspirations for the absorption of art, we headed out of JP bound for profound adventure.

  
  

  We got about as far as Boylston Street, and our trusty neutral-colored steed changed its four-cylinder mind.

  
  

  But we would not be thwarted! brave wayfarers such as we are, and opted for the commuter rail. An hour or so later we stood at the platform in Rockport, disoriented yet eager.

  
  

  I was personally hoping for a pint in some random fried seafood shack with picnic tables and minimal amenities, maybe close to the harbor, but no dice. Rockport is a “dry” town. I was bewildered, but decided to make the best of the situation. 

  
  

  So instead we sat on some huge granite rocks and spent some time watching the boats go in and out of port, and thought about where we wanted to be, and what was truly important. Going on adventures, it was decided, is very important. Daydreaming is also essential. And eating lots of ice cream and making fun of touristy old ladies is fun, too. We also watched some kayaks crash into each other. And made naughty drawings in the brochures in the coffee shop. Heehee.

  
  

  Coming home to Boston sucks.  But soon enough, we will venture once again! maybe, someday, forever!

  • 6:52 pm
  • 2 Comments