"Holy Crap, We're Related?"

I headed west on the Massachusetts turnpike towards Albany and through the Berkshires. The sun had burned through the clouds in Boston but the skies were overcast in the mountains and fog rested on the treetops. It was beautiful - although it wasn’t snow, the Berkshires did seem dreamlike on account of that frosting.

I took out my Pete Yorn CD, well on its way to being worn out at this point, and switched to the radio to see what I could find. I love the slogans for stations I’ve never heard. For instance, in Pennsylvania there’s a country station called WBOB, with country stars claiming, "This is [insert country star], and when I’m in Central P-A, I keep my knob on BOB!"

There’s nothing much to say about driving on the interstate. I wish I could think of something interesting or profound to say about it but only two words come to mind: writer’s block. Seriously, anyone who’s ever driven for hours on an interstate without traffic knows you just fall into some sort of zone and the only thing you can concentrate on is staying awake.

I was only taking the interstate because I was in a rush to get to the Albany area. My grandmother’s cousin, Audrey, lives in Climax, NY, right outside of Coxsackie, and I promised that I would go visit. I’ve only met her three times but had fabulous memories of spending a couple afternoons at her house as a child, and she had visited Maryland right before I left on this trip. From there I knew I would have to haul ass to New York City and Long Island so I rushed to have adequate time to visit in Coxsackie.

I made a fatal mistake at one point and accidentally got into the E-Z Pass lane on the Mass Turnpike. I wanted to be an honest person so I paused to let the camera take a picture of my plate number and then wondered about my punishment - and if I would be able to talk my way out of it - all the way to Albany. My cousin told me later to expect a ticket and a bill in the mail - Fun Fun Fun! That’s just what I need.

I am fucking broke. It has nothing to do with anything, I just had to say that.

Anyway, I got to Climax - another one-stoplight town - not knowing what to expect. And I got more than I ever dreamed.

Audrey lives with her son, Bruce, and his girlfriend, Susan, in an old farmhouse at the dead end of a long road on a hill. It is straight up Green Acres. And it’s magnificent. Audrey and Susan, who I’d never met, were sitting on the front porch waiting for me. The sun was glorious and the lilac trees in the side yard were giving off the most beautiful smell. Bruce was on the riding mower, making smaller and smaller circles and the aroma of fresh-cut grass mingled with the lilacs. The whole space between the house and the street, while small, is a flower garden and it seemed as though every bloom had popped out to see what was going on. Ducks in the pond across the street were pecking at each other and splashing. The family dogs - Bailey, Jake, and Sasha - barked in the windows and made themselves heard over the mower. It was honestly one of the most gorgeous places I’ve ever seen. As soon as I got out of the car and looked around there was no more question as to where I want to raise my kids. I’m not saying Climax, NY, just someplace in the country where nature isn’t being chased off and layered in strip malls and stoplights.

Audrey hugged me and showed me around the house as the dogs followed, which was awkward because the house is so old and narrow and doesn’t really lend itself to three huge animals barging around. Still, even a way-faring stranger could see it would be boring and empty without them. Susan made me a sandwich and gave me leave to raid the fridge as much as I wanted. Audrey showed me the backyard, which was spectacular - it had a few different gardens, a grapevine set up, and two old barns. It also had what Audrey called "Ed-henge" - a huge arrangement of rocks that look like the pi-symbol ones from Stonehenge. Some guy named Ed who used to live there made it and everyone likes it so they just call it Ed-henge. It was awesome. I got pictures but they’re film, not digital so I still have to work on getting them up on this site.

Audrey’s daughter Nancy came over with her boyfriend, Chuck. I haven’t seen her since I was 8 and to be honest, I don’t remember meeting her. There is photographic evidence, though, so I know it’s a fact. Anyway, while they were there and we were all looking at pictures of my trip so far and Bruce and Susan’s trip to Hilton Head the week before, Audrey went and got a big bag of pictures. She opened it up and set a small black-and-white photo of a baby, a little girl, two women, and an old, old woman in front of me. The date stamped on the side read, "37".

"That’s your grandmother," she said, pointing to the little girl. "And that’s me," as she pointed to the baby. "And this is my mother, and that is your great-grandmother, and that," she said, as she pointed to the old woman, "That is your great-great grandmother. Your grandma and I, our grandma." I could feel my face freeze into a look of shock and guilt. You see, I always knew Audrey and her late husband, Charlie, as "Audrey and Charlie". Not Aunt Audrey, or Cousin Audrey, or anything like that. I’m sure someone told me years and years ago that she and my grandmother were cousins but I guess I didn’t remember it as I got older, and everyone just assumed I knew, so I always just assumed that she and my grandmother were just good friends. So that left me sitting in the kitchen, looking around at all these unfamiliar faces and realizing, "Holy crap! These people are my family!"

For those of you who don’t know me, I am a family fanatic. I love holidays if only because they give us an excuse to get together. Some people dread family get-togethers but not me; I live for them. So this was like coming to Coxsackie and getting the best present ever - more family! More people to love, more people to count on. More people to brag about using the prefix "My-cousin-so-and-so", like ‘My cousin Bruce plays guitar in a really good band!" It was the greatest epiphany a big sissy like me could have.

So the next few days in that house were like heaven for me. Bruce and Susan grilled steak and chicken and steamed asparagus from their garden. We watched "The Simpsons" and "Family Guy" and "Antiques Roadshow". Susan and I got happy on a jug of Gallo chardonnay and Audrey and I went driving around the little towns in the area. We ate at Nancy’s one night and Chuck took me for a ride in his 1930 Model A Ford. I learned that not only does no one lock their front doors, nobody locks their car doors either - AND they leave the keys in the ignition!!! And no one's car has ever been stolen in that area!!! Audrey made sure I was fed well and did my laundry. I helped her hang it on the line outside and loved the smell of my suitcase when I put it away. I even raked part of the back yard - mowing had left grass clippings all over and Bruce and Sue were chiding each other on who would rake them up. Since neither one wanted to, I did it as a thank-you gesture. For all my friends who know me as a prissy little snot, picture me sweating out there pitchforking grass clippings into a wheelbarrow and rolling it around the yard - in designer cargo pants and Ugz slippers. I’m sure I was a sight to see. But honestly, I was so happy. I loved the idea of the simple life - go to work, come home, do some yard work, cook some food, laugh a lot, hang out with the dogs. What could be better?

Spending so much time with Bruce, Sue, and Audrey was great too, not only because they’re my new-found family, but they also put on no airs. Some people try to keep up with the Jones’ or impress others around them but not those three. Susan isn’t even shy about showing a picture of herself taken before a test for sleep apneia, where her face and head are wrapped in intermittent strips of white tape and about twenty wires are stuck to various parts of her. It’s so refreshing, especially after coming back to the East with traces of that LA, "Oh-jeez-gotta-put-make-up-on-to-get-the-mail" attitude still clinging to me.

My cousin Nancy (I love writing that!) and her friend Mary-Jo took me out for drinks one of the nights I was there. I caught them looking at me funny a few times, as though they were in awe. I knew there wasn't anything in my teeth, so I asked what was up. They both just said, "We can't believe that you're just out on the road doing this. I would never have the guts to do something like that." I get that a lot, honestly, and the thing I find almost sad about it is that I'm willing to bet that most people do have the drive and the ability to make their dreams come true, they're just hindered by fear and societal norms. For instance, Susan looked at me like I was crazy when I told her I gave up my health coverage to travel. I don't know, growing up without it it's always seemed more of a luxury than a necessity to me. And face it, it's not "normal" to live your life in a car the way I am right now. But it's what I want to do.

Anyway, Nancy and Mary-Jo told me stories about growing up in Climax that were the polar opposite of everything I've ever experienced. Both have lived in the same town all their lives, know the same people, married guys they'd known since kindergarten, got divorced, and started dating other guys they'd known since kindergarten. Actually, that's not true - Mary-Jo's boyfriend moved to town about 8 years ago... but he still feels like a stranger sometimes, like a secondary character in this play that's been acting itself out for 40 years. Still, it seems so different from my transient life so far.

I didn’t want to leave on Wednesday and they didn’t want me to either. The day I arrived, Sue told Audrey, "She’s so cute, I want to keep her!", thinking that I couldn’t hear. By the day I left, I almost wanted her to make good on that, to tie me to a chair and force me to stay. I knew I had to be getting on, I had more family and one very-bestest friend who counts as family to see before the week was out. But the time I spent in Climax, getting to know my "new" family, will be a highlight of this trip no matter what I see from here on out. I could end up on Letterman or go skydiving in Bryce Canyon or do any amount of exciting things but, even this early in the journey I already know, some of the best memories I could ever make have already been made, raking grass clippings and looking at old pictures with my family.