IN WHICH I Travel to Shelton, CT along Roads I Have Never Before Seen, Wander around Various Parts of the Inner-City Alone, Become a Vaguely Suspicious Figure Loitering outside a Bank, Help a Distressed Woman, Nearly Arrive at Mike's House, AND - in the Meantime - Watch The Yankees Win Game 5 of the World Series While I Write These Very Words.

Yes, that's right - for the second straight game, the Yankees have won a game in extra innings after tying it on a 2-run home run with two outs in the bottom of the ninth!  And they hadn't done either of those things before I wrote that I was watching them win!  But anyway...

I got up late on Friday morning, and enjoyed my afternoon and early evening in Uncasville, with another very good dinner.  Right after it ended, right around dusk, I got in my grandmother's car and hopped on the freeway, on my way to Shelton.  The car was running quite well, and once I got on 95 and out from behind a vehicle whose driver wished to travel at 50 MPH, I made pretty good time to New Haven.

I followed Mike's directions through the city and made it, eventually, to his hometown of Shelton.  I know what you're saying right now.  You are saying, "Hey Steve!  Isn't Shelton the home of.....THE WIFFLEBALL?"  Yes.  Yes.  One thousand times yes.  In all the free and unfree world, only one factory manufactures Wiffleballs and their assorted paraphernalia.  And I had reached that Mecca.  I removed my shoes in homage.

Then I quickly put them back on, because I hadn't obeyed Mike's request to call him before I got to Shelton.  Not him, really - he was at his youth group where he helps out - but his parents.  So I had to go find a pay phone after I parked in our designated meeting place - their family bank.  I set off down the street, and reached into my pockets to find that I had no change.  Ah, but there was a store ahead, and I went inside.

Seedy.  That was the only way to describe this store.  It was apparently owned by a middle-aged Korean couple, and while the man stood behind the counter and waited on the customers, the woman was out in the aisle, being flirted with by a long-haired, tattooed man with a 12-pack of Budweiser, whose every mannerism screamed, "Ex-con."  Most of the customers were in the back, hauling out cases of beer, except for a small knot of black teenagers and an older gentleman, who alternated leering at the Korean woman with taking gulps from something from a paper bag.  Mike told me afterward that beer sales in Connecticut stop at 8 PM, and I'd had the great fortune to arrive at 7:55.  I bought my New York Post and got right out of Dodge.

I walked past a classy restaurant and a Subway, about 1/2 mile, and still found no pay phone.  I took a right, figuring that I wouldn't get lost, and started to explore a cross street.  Finally I saw a phone on the other side of the road, in front of some sort of store - I wasn't quite sure what.  I strode across the street confidently, wanting to show all possible observers that I certainly knew what I was doing, and promptly found I had to walk back over to the streetlight to read the phone number.

Mike's mom said it would take her six minutes to get to the bank, so I set off for the car.  I got back and started reading the Post while sitting on the hood.  The bank was surprisingly busy for 8 PM, and one woman kept driving through the parking lot, looking at me with what looked to me like suspicion.  On the third pass, she stopped the car, parked next to me, and got out.  "I can take her," I thought.  "Do you know how to get to Rt. 2 south?," she asked.

Luckily for her, I had seen it on my travels, and told her where it was.

"No.  It's not down there.  I've been that way."

Oh.  Well then.  "Uh....I'm pretty sure I saw the sign down there.  Go down about four blocks and take a right."

Just then, Mike's mom pulled in behind me and waved.  I recognized her from my tickertape parade trip and graduation, and briefly considered having her give this woman directions.  I looked back over at her, and she had gotten back in her car and appeared to be talking to herself.

On second thought, perhaps Rt. 2 South would be better off without her, I thought.

I got in the car, backed out veeeerrrry slowly, and followed Mrs. Vreeland up the hills of Shelton, toward the house.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Round FIVE

NHS Speech

"My View" Editorial

The October Surprise
|  Round 1 |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |
|  11  |  12  |  Final Bell  |

Journey to Jersey II
|  Intro  |  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  11  |
|  12  |  13  |  14  |  15  |

Journey to Jersey I
|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |   6  |  7  |  8  |
|  9  |  10  |  11  |  12  |  13  |  14  |
|  15  |  16  |  17  |  18  |  19  |  20  |

An Epic Saga
|  Act  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  11  |
|  12  |  13  |  14  |  15  |  16  |

Christian Rock Email

Freshman Room Draw
|  Part One  |  Two  |
|  Three  |  Four  |  Five  |