Exhausted

Thursday night we started driving at 8pm to get up to Bushkill, PA to see my sister, her husband, and their little girl (and ideally, do some fly-fishing). Drive up went pretty smooth (unless you count the nastiness that is Baltimore Travel Center - never again!), except that by about 11:30 I was having serious trouble keeping awake. This is not usual for me. I am generally just fine until at least 1AM. But I was starting to worry about my ability to drive & so we switched places for the last hour and a half through Eastern PA. I was nearly dead when we got there at 1 - just wanted to find the bed.

Well, I caught something because I barely moved from that bed for the next 36 hours. I had a minor temperature, sore throat, and constant headaches, and threw up a tiny bit maybe twice, but the main symptoms were just sheer fatigue and loss of appetite. All I wanted was a dark room and our down comforter (which, luckily, we decided last minute to bring). I would get up to go to the bathroom and nearly fall asleep on the toilet - one time I paused to sit down in the big whirlpool tub and very nearly spent the rest of the night there. I don't think I've ever been so tired. My wife (God bless her) was getting pretty tired of taking care of both kids the whole time, and it was starting to show by Saturday morning, so I took the little guy down for his morning nap with me while my wife & sister took the other kids to a 'zoo'. Well, we got the good end of that deal, because he slept down there with me for hours while they wandered through, in their words, a "malaria swamp."

I was determined to feel better by Saturday evening for Jeff's show. The original plan was for me to drive up to Scranton alone and spend far into the night hanging out with Jeff and talking roleplaying theory v. improv theory, a topic we've been exploring a little in our recent correspondance. However, I knew I wouldn't be up for that, so my wife ended up coming along to the show since we'd be coming back soon afterward. My sister & brother-in-law took all three kids (and put them all to bed without a hitch - amazing) and we drove the hour or so up to Scranton.

The show was lots of fun - it's the same storyline each night, but the players have a lot of leeway (I'm given to understand) in the dialogue and so forth. The story was about Morty Scrod (Jeff) and his wife Gretchen (Heather) who own a beat up old hotel in upstate PA (thus, lots of local rib-poking) that used to house opera stars such as Gretchen's aunt Aida. A wealthy Frenchman (Dave), the Marquis de Bernais-Moutard actually, shows up and, uh, you know, hijinks & pratfalls ensue. It was a little under-attended (apparently Scranton doesn't know what it's got) but a good time.

Afterwards we ended up going with the whole cast (except of course local boy Billie, whose non-enthusiasm was palpable onstage) plus director down to 130 Brixx Tavern for a bite to eat. In my case, it really was about one bite, since my appetite had yet to return and Pennsylvanians would seem to like their chicken quite dry. But it was nice to be there with basically everyone who was involved with the show & talk to them about it. Then we very nearly ran out of gas on the way home, but we found an open gas station at last, and made it back to Bushkill.

Sunday morning I was beginning to feel more alive again. My sister and her family went off to church in the morning (I don't particularly like the actual going to church, less so when it's people I don't know, and so I don't usually go to church on vacation - which is why I can expect to see my sister in a nicer neighborhood of heaven than me). In the afternoon we went up to Bushkill Falls "The Niagara of Pennsylvania!" which was fine, maybe not $9 worth for the part we did, but it was, y'know, pretty waterfalls. Back at the snack stand (my daughter NEEDED a soft pretzel) we amused ourselves cracking jokes about the jackbooted security guard who was looking at everyone suspiciously and wandering around in his high combat boots and tight leather gloves with his big old Mag-lite. At one point a piece of debris blew across the parking lot and he strode out there very quickly and seriously to show that debris who was boss. Then he had to go inside the souvenir shop to ask where it should go since it wouldn't fit in the trash can. All to my amusement. Well, I'm informed that it's time for bed, no matter that you're only half way through blogging the trip. More later, I suppose.