Escape from Boston: the revenge of Steve Pliskin

Hello, friends, this is Rachel, Steve's favorite daughter. As I write, Steve is engaged in a battle of wills with his mean and stupid GPS. She wants us to stay in Boston, forever, and we want to leave. Why? How? I came to Boston for a long weekend with Orion while Steve and Sally take care of some business in the Happy Valley. But when I arrived at Logan Airport, Steve told me that Orion's blood count was so good he was given permission to spend a weekend at home! So I met them at the condo and we called a cab to take us to the hotel, where Steve's car was parked, covered by at least ten feet of snow and most likely home to a family of feral cats. We waited an hour for the cab. If i had been a better student in college, I would remember the name of the philosopher who said that a man walking toward a door would never be able to walk through the door, because every time he would walk halfway there, and then halfway from halfway, until he was millimeters away but never arriving. This was our cab. Each time I called, it was halfway there, but it never arrived.

We decided to walk to MGH and wait another hour for the hotel shuttle, this time inside and with coffee and tea. Our colorful driver brought us to the hotel in one piece, where we found the car in much better shape than expected. Nothing is ever as bad as Steve thinks it is. We freed the car from the snow bank, but then the GPS failed, repeatedly, to inform us of the correct route out of Boston, the worst city in America.

When I was in first grade, I was given a simple assignment - draw a picture of what I did over the weekend. I drew a picture of Steve and I walking down by river. Steve stepped into a puddle and the ice water went up over his boot, and he said...something. I thought it would be more appropriate if I toned down what Steve said in my artistic interpretation of the incident, and instead wrote "oh god oh god oh god." This got me a note home and further censorship - I was asked to change it to "oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh." now that I am an adult, I can be honest with you. Steve said to the GPS, "why are you fucking us? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why would anyone live here? No no no no no no no!" But eventually, we escaped Boston, and now sit in traffic in a town Steve identified as "who the fuck knows."

Orion sleeps peacefully in back. When we get to Ashfield I can finally give him the present that Nate and I got for him - a fun surprise we hope he'll enjoy. I look forward to spending the long weekend with Orion, the parents and the dogs.