Boston's Inside Joke

(This is a updated story from an old email about my adventure in Boston, May 20-22, 2005, and was written on May 22nd.)

"Bryon, you're not very adventurous."

I bet almost every friend I've ever had has said that to me at some point because I am very conservative in everything. Then in 1996, I began driving across the country trying to see every Springsteen concert I could. It all started when I met my friend Chris on the old Backstreets email group. He was a doctorate student at Ohio State and I had moved to Columbus in 1993.

The shows changed that "not very adventurous" label I used to carry. On occasion, I even did other things while on the tour like soaking up the culture of NYC with the help of folks like Flynn and Claudine (friends of mine in Queens) as I went to the last seven shows on the 1999-2000 reunion tour. It was fun and exciting, visiting cities and doing things outside the Springsteen spectrum.

For my weekend in Boston I wanted to try something I'd never done, so I stayed an extra night and went out to try something adventurous. It was sort of a mini-vacation for me. Friday night was the show and Saturday was my day in Boston.

I've learned a special secret about Boston. There's a running joke that the locals play on all the tourists. It's a little similar to how we would take newbies on a snipe hunt when I was in Boy Scouts growing up in Kentucky, except it's much more cruel.

Saturday I went on a whale watching tour.

Everyone loves whales. Everyone says you should save the whales. They're intelligent creatures according to people who know these things.

I was excited; like geeked out excited. I stopped down at the aquarium before hand on a cold, cloudy day as the sky spit light rain down on us. After a quick fish sandwich and a butterscotch pudding for dessert, I boarded the tour boat and grabbed a seat on the 2nd deck. I struck up a conversation with a nice older couple in town from Toronto and soon the cruise was under way.

Flashback to the 1970s

As a child and the oldest of three, my mother often shuttled us around in the back of the three or four station wagons (complete with the fake wood grain and the two far back seats that face out the back window) my parents owned. Sometimes (often,) we'd get motion sickness and in those dire emergencies, we carried a plastic purple pitcher in case we got nauseous because it's easier to the dump a pitcher of puke than to clean it up out of the carpet and seats.

*** Historical side note: I remember when the pitcher was used to pour milk on our table prior to becoming a permanent part of the station wagon accessories.

Flash back to last Tuesday

I told my mom I was going on a trip and she asked me if I thought about seasickness. I haven't been sick from driving in a car, being on a plane or on a boat at Nolin Lake in 25 years, so why would I worry about this?

Flash forward to Saturday

It was a dark sky with a stormy surf. I excused myself from the table with the Toronto couple so I could go to the first deck and sit in the middle of the boat 30 minutes into the trip. The boat rocked less there and there was fresh air coming in occasionally. The 7up I bought did nothing to ease my sickness.

There's a joke here somewhere and it's on me

As I fell in and out of consciousness (I swear I blacked out several times) I glanced up at some asshole with his phone pointed in my direction. I think he was taking a photo of me with his phone or maybe waiting for an "action shot." I made a mental note to kick his ass after the trip if I could stand.

I remembered that I had with me a generous gift from a lady at work. A vendor had give her a few small tins of mints that could easily be carried in the pocket. I popped a couple of those strong things in my mouth and they helped ease my stomach and head.

About an hour into the trip was the first round of folks getting sick. Moments later the crew was running around handing out clear bags to anyone who held their hand up.

There's something about the sickly smell of vomit that permeates through the air when someone ten feet from you hurls his or her cookies. It's worsened if you watch because the crew hands out CLEAR bags. They can't hand out black ones that are not see through, oh no. They probably have a betting pool on the number of people who get sick (the over under for this trip of about 70 people was probably 40 to 50.) There seemed to be a chain reaction as one person led to two others who got sick.

This was soon followed by the sound of the wet vac that was cleaning up the forward area. The people were cleared out by about four or five people hurling. It's OK if you are not always hitting the bag as sharing with a loved one is the next best thing.

During this HORROR as I listened to sound of gagging from all directions, I continuously popped mints in my mouth and pressed them against the roof with my dry tongue. I had no saliva and I didn't want to try and stand and get water at the back of the deck. My legs had no control at this point as they flopped in whichever direction the boat danced.

My mouth was burning from these powerful mints.

When the second round of continuous vomiting in the area occurred, I didn't have the strength to stick my fingers in my ears. I hummed loudly as I popped mints in my mouth. I tried to hum the entire album of "Born to Run," but I never finished a song and couldn't remember all 8 songs on the album. That's how bad my condition was. If I were in the CIA, the Chinese would easily have me talking by threatening to put me on a boat in the ocean.

I thought for a moment in my delirious state and then I remembered the date: 12/1/1989. Erin Duffy's 21st birthday party. That was the last time I paid 33 dollars when we bought the keg to get this sick. It was like everyone on board was my friend Mike Ferrari from college and they all had too much to drink.

We reached the area and they were telling everyone to look out the windows to spot any spouts of water because that was the easiest way to spot the whales.

Were they ****ing kidding? I could not even open my eyes at this point.

The ride was deathly quiet as everyone was miserable. Then, shortly after, I heard the sweetest words I've ever heard. "We've been told that the surf is getting worse and we're turning around and heading back." This was at around 90 minutes into the trip.

As people threw up constantly, I recall wanting to beg someone to shoot an elderly man choking violently as I think he was on his last three minutes on this earth. "Put him out of his misery," I thought to myself.

Sit tight, take hold

My eyes were shut for about the middle two hours of the trip as I tried some meditation to ease the sickness (along with 75% of my mints.) I've had novice experience with meditation from my martial arts classes over the years and it actually helped.

With about 30 minutes left and as we hit kinder waters, the ship seemed to come alive again as everyone regained their composure. I felt like I woke up from an all night bender and felt hungover from my experience through today.

Between the people hurling, the babies screaming, the sickening smell and the noise of the wet vac, I somehow managed to control myself and not get sick although I admit that I was probably very close at that point. A small burp escaped my mouth and there was a taste of butterscotch.

So Boston had its laugh on me. I was the stupid tourist who gained some sudden insight.

What was really comical was they gave me a rain check for another trip as is their policy because we did not spot any whales. There's about four people at work I don't like at all and I'll probably give this to one of them.

As for the whales, I have to re-examined the theory that we are killing them off and that's why they are becoming extinct. I think that perhaps they are all dying of seasickness and that's why they try to beach themselves.

They say life started in the ocean and that animals crawled out onto land. Maybe they were just seasick?

One of the funniest moments was a family that was leaving and they joked how it was a great bonding experience. There were about twelve of them and they laughed at how they'd all remember the young man's graduation.

As for me, I have eternal gratitude to give to Lynnae (the lady at work with the mints.)

I also have an unused vomit bag proudly displayed in my office.

I also have a raincheck to give someone at work, but who?

Decisions, decisions ...