Monday, August 17, 2009
The Unexpected Joy of Unintended Events
On Saturday, my DH and I had a series of unintended events. It all started with a trip to the car dealership to get the oil changed on our car. It had taken us a whole year to drive far enough to need a change (Yay for public transit) but my DH, like any alpha worth his salt, has a good sense of direction, so he wasn't using the GPS.
Unfortunately, I was telling him a very diverting story and he missed a turn on the route he had in his head. Now, you've got to realize that Boston is a very old, very unplanned city. You can't make 4 right turns and end up back where you started. It's really more like a giant Chutes and Ladders game. The roads pick you up and spit you out in someplace you never intended to go.
Ok, I hear you saying, why not just use your GPS? Well, we would have if we'd had an address. My DH knew where he was going, remember, so he didn't bother with checking on the address again. Like any good wife, I suggested we stop and ask to check for the address in a phone book, but like any good man, he refused. He knew what street the dealership was on. All he had to do was find it. So he soldiered on, using the Columbus method of navigation. While frustration was growing on the left side of the car, I decided to enjoy the unexpected tour. Boston really is a fascinating city with a broad spectrum of different architectural styles. (Unexpected joy #1)
But don't ask my DH. He wasn't looking at the pretty buildings.
Like Columbus, he finally arrived at a destination. And unlike Columbus, my DH's was the correct one.
Now a trip to the car dealership is way down there with a trip to the dentist in my book. Either way you're at the mercy of someone else. Imagine my surprise when I discovered our dealership had added a "quiet room" for their adult customers, complete with massage chairs. And not just any massage chairs. These were massage chairs on steroids. These chairs even massaged our legs! I developed a meaningful relationship with one and as we left the dealership a short time later, I drilled my DH on what else we might have done to the car so I can visit my chair again soon! (Unexpected joy #2)
Then we decided to do something that would be purposefully fun. We took the T down to Long Wharf and hopped a harbor ferry out to Spectacle Island. We chose this island because it sounds "spectacular," doesn't it?
Wrong. Spectacle Island got its name because its two little hills (called drumlins) rise from the harbor like a pair of half-submerged spectacles. Ok. But it's an island and that's my definition of someplace romantic.
Wrong. Spectacle Island was a garbage dump for most of its long and disgusting history. Barges of dead horses were ferried out to the rendering plant where they were turned into glue and hides. 13 unfortunate families made their homes on the island at one time. I can only thank God that the human nose shuts down after a certain amount of stimulation. Most recently, the island received tons of fill dirt from The Big Dig. (Thank you, BTW. Your tax dollars helped fund this gargantuan project that buried the previously elevated highway that ran through downtown Boston.) So the island has been reclaimed, reshaped and replanted. A win for the environment, right?
Wrong. Even though there are 5 miles of hiking trails, there is no natural shade on this island. We had sunscreen, water, sunglasses, and I was wearing my visor, but the park service would make a killing if they sold umbrellas at their visitor's center.
But while Spectacle Island made me feel like I needed a shower, the views from its questionable shores were "spectacular." And we spent a lovely hour sitting on adirondack chairs in front of the visitors' center, watching the sailing and cruising traffic go by.
And I had my third unexpected joy. Just spending time holding DH's hand.
What unexpected joys have surprised you lately?