Can't get there from here
Another I probably shouldn't BLOG about. But. Fuck me. It's good. And since I no longer directly BLOG about the Boy(s), and can't share our wheels off travel adventures, their grandparents are the next best thing. So here goes. Read it before I'm asked to remove!
The first thing you need to know is this. We all went to the beach for the week of Thanksgiving. The second thing you need to know is that we went to the Bolivar Peninsula (of Hurricane Ike infamy) which is East of Galveston. You can get to the Bolivar Peninsula two ways. You can come down 45 and then ride the ferry across the bay coming in from the west side. Or. You can come to Houston and go out I-10 toward Beaumont. At some point you get off I-10 and head South until you hit the coast and then you drive in from the East on the Peninsula.
On the day of departure my in-laws called early. 7:30am early. And told My Lovely Bride (MLB here on out) that they were on the road and heading to the beach. The Team (including Ruby the Dog) left around 9:00am and ended up on the ferry (since we came in 45) around 1pm when MLB received our first call from the in-laws.
It was clearly evident from MLB's side of the conversation that my in-laws were lost. After a few minutes MLB became annoyed and said, "I can't help you if you don't even know where you are at." At which point she handed me the phone.
It was my mother in-law who asked me if it was possible for there to be another area that had the same street address as our house. And then started asking me if the house next door had, and describing physical characteristics.
I explained that I had never been to that house before, so I had no idea.
I then asked her if they came down 45 or came the other way, which seemed to confuse her, so she passed the phone to my father in-law who I asked the same question.
He didn't know.
I asked if he came over a bridge. Since Galveston is an island.
He didn't know. Or wasn't sure. He went over some bridges.
I then asked if he went out I-10.
He didn't know.
So I started listing cities that he would have driven through if he had come out I-10 and into Bolivar from the East.
He didn't know. And became frustrated and started telling me that she had him turn left, and then right, and now they were in a neighborhood and she said they were at their destination.
He went on to describe his surrounding, which, based on what he'd told me, I assumed they were on West Beach. The Western edge of Galveston Island and the opposite side of where they needed to be to get to the ferry. I told him, to ask someone, and then ask them how to get to Stewart Beach. If they could get to Stewart Beach, they'd easily find the ferry and then could come across and then, it was literally a straight shot. With ONE turn when we hit the house's street.
Fast forward a few minutes of dolphin watching as the ferry takes us over to Bolivar and the phone rings again and MLB answers. More exasperated talking about my in-laws route. At one point MLB said, "I don't know (insert father in-law's name.) We drove by a lot of schools on the way down!"
She eventually hung up, asking them to do what I had asked them to do.
Stop and ask someone where they were.
MLB and I were sort of annoyed laughing about it all, when I asked her, "Why is (insert father in-law's name) listening to your Mom for directions?"
MLB gave me a quizzical look and said, "He's not."
"He kept saying she said to do this, and she said to do that, when he was trying to explain to me where they were at? Who's she?" I asked.
MLB laughed.
"She's their GPS system. They call her Miss Daisy."
We were both laughing when the phone rang again.
I'll cut to the chase and say, that they still didn't know where they were at. And that whomever they talked to looked at them like they were nuts. My father in-law's words. Not mine.
As we had arrived at the ferry landing, we wished them good luck, told them until they figured out where they were at, we couldn't help them. Find a city, etc. and let us know. Or. Find Stewart's Beach and then they'd be so close to the ferry there was no way they could screw it up. The whole time MLB is lamenting the fact that on our ride down 45 we literally only turned a handful of times. It was a straight shot. How could they get lost. With GPS.
Fast forward through us going to the rental office. Paying. Getting our keys. Driving to our house. Unloading. To me drinking a beer and looking at the waves. It's about 2:30ish at this point.
"Where are (insert my father in-law and mother in-law's names)?" I asked my Dad who had arrived at the same time as us. They were on the same ferry.
He then proceeded to tell me that they called MLB and said they were on the ferry.
"Awesome." I said. "And they left at like 7:30am too!?!?!"
My Dad smiled and said, "They are on the ferry going over to Galveston."
"You mean they came in from the East? And didn't know it?" I asked.
"I guess," my Dad said drinking his beer.
"Fuck me." I said. Mainly to myself.
No wonder everyone they asked though they were nuts. They were telling them they were trying to get to Bolivar Peninsula (which they were already on) by way of the ferry and Stewart Beach.)
Fuck me. Again. Hard.
Fast forward a beer later and they finally arrived at the beach house. A beach house they had been in front of when they called the first time. Later MLB said, pointing at the neighbors house, "There is the black SUV they kept telling me about and asking if they had."
Fast forward a few days later and MLB and her Mom were in front of the house when her Mom said, "Oh, look, the name of the house is on the house."
"No shit. They always have the names on the houses. How else are you going to find them." MLB said (to me later. Not sure if to her Mom then.)
I could end the story here. But. To be fair. My in-laws and Miss Daisy decided to leave the beach a few hours before us on Sunday morning coming down. The figured they'd go the way they came, thus out East, and then to I-10, etc.
The whole way back we speculated if they'd get lost or not. But we never spoke to them. Until a few days later when MLB spoke to her Mom and reported to me that, they had in fact, gotten lost again. Or. As they say. Miss Daisy got them lost. She had them turn off the main road at some point, and go down a smaller road, which turned into a wooden road before dead ending into a canal or draining ditch.
MLB shook her head and said, "Like you're going to get back to Dallas by driving on a wooden road."
I laughed and said, "And don't forget they'd already came that way five days earlier. You'd think you'd remember if you drove on a wooden road when you came to the beach."
"Miss Daisy sucks." MLB said. "But at some point, do you really follow her when you know she's probably taking your the wrong way?"
"They're crazy." I said.
"Yes. They. Are. Crazy." She said.
Until I BLOG again...(I've been there I know the way.)
The first thing you need to know is this. We all went to the beach for the week of Thanksgiving. The second thing you need to know is that we went to the Bolivar Peninsula (of Hurricane Ike infamy) which is East of Galveston. You can get to the Bolivar Peninsula two ways. You can come down 45 and then ride the ferry across the bay coming in from the west side. Or. You can come to Houston and go out I-10 toward Beaumont. At some point you get off I-10 and head South until you hit the coast and then you drive in from the East on the Peninsula.
On the day of departure my in-laws called early. 7:30am early. And told My Lovely Bride (MLB here on out) that they were on the road and heading to the beach. The Team (including Ruby the Dog) left around 9:00am and ended up on the ferry (since we came in 45) around 1pm when MLB received our first call from the in-laws.
It was clearly evident from MLB's side of the conversation that my in-laws were lost. After a few minutes MLB became annoyed and said, "I can't help you if you don't even know where you are at." At which point she handed me the phone.
It was my mother in-law who asked me if it was possible for there to be another area that had the same street address as our house. And then started asking me if the house next door had, and describing physical characteristics.
I explained that I had never been to that house before, so I had no idea.
I then asked her if they came down 45 or came the other way, which seemed to confuse her, so she passed the phone to my father in-law who I asked the same question.
He didn't know.
I asked if he came over a bridge. Since Galveston is an island.
He didn't know. Or wasn't sure. He went over some bridges.
I then asked if he went out I-10.
He didn't know.
So I started listing cities that he would have driven through if he had come out I-10 and into Bolivar from the East.
He didn't know. And became frustrated and started telling me that she had him turn left, and then right, and now they were in a neighborhood and she said they were at their destination.
He went on to describe his surrounding, which, based on what he'd told me, I assumed they were on West Beach. The Western edge of Galveston Island and the opposite side of where they needed to be to get to the ferry. I told him, to ask someone, and then ask them how to get to Stewart Beach. If they could get to Stewart Beach, they'd easily find the ferry and then could come across and then, it was literally a straight shot. With ONE turn when we hit the house's street.
Fast forward a few minutes of dolphin watching as the ferry takes us over to Bolivar and the phone rings again and MLB answers. More exasperated talking about my in-laws route. At one point MLB said, "I don't know (insert father in-law's name.) We drove by a lot of schools on the way down!"
She eventually hung up, asking them to do what I had asked them to do.
Stop and ask someone where they were.
MLB and I were sort of annoyed laughing about it all, when I asked her, "Why is (insert father in-law's name) listening to your Mom for directions?"
MLB gave me a quizzical look and said, "He's not."
"He kept saying she said to do this, and she said to do that, when he was trying to explain to me where they were at? Who's she?" I asked.
MLB laughed.
"She's their GPS system. They call her Miss Daisy."
We were both laughing when the phone rang again.
I'll cut to the chase and say, that they still didn't know where they were at. And that whomever they talked to looked at them like they were nuts. My father in-law's words. Not mine.
As we had arrived at the ferry landing, we wished them good luck, told them until they figured out where they were at, we couldn't help them. Find a city, etc. and let us know. Or. Find Stewart's Beach and then they'd be so close to the ferry there was no way they could screw it up. The whole time MLB is lamenting the fact that on our ride down 45 we literally only turned a handful of times. It was a straight shot. How could they get lost. With GPS.
Fast forward through us going to the rental office. Paying. Getting our keys. Driving to our house. Unloading. To me drinking a beer and looking at the waves. It's about 2:30ish at this point.
"Where are (insert my father in-law and mother in-law's names)?" I asked my Dad who had arrived at the same time as us. They were on the same ferry.
He then proceeded to tell me that they called MLB and said they were on the ferry.
"Awesome." I said. "And they left at like 7:30am too!?!?!"
My Dad smiled and said, "They are on the ferry going over to Galveston."
"You mean they came in from the East? And didn't know it?" I asked.
"I guess," my Dad said drinking his beer.
"Fuck me." I said. Mainly to myself.
No wonder everyone they asked though they were nuts. They were telling them they were trying to get to Bolivar Peninsula (which they were already on) by way of the ferry and Stewart Beach.)
Fuck me. Again. Hard.
Fast forward a beer later and they finally arrived at the beach house. A beach house they had been in front of when they called the first time. Later MLB said, pointing at the neighbors house, "There is the black SUV they kept telling me about and asking if they had."
Fast forward a few days later and MLB and her Mom were in front of the house when her Mom said, "Oh, look, the name of the house is on the house."
"No shit. They always have the names on the houses. How else are you going to find them." MLB said (to me later. Not sure if to her Mom then.)
I could end the story here. But. To be fair. My in-laws and Miss Daisy decided to leave the beach a few hours before us on Sunday morning coming down. The figured they'd go the way they came, thus out East, and then to I-10, etc.
The whole way back we speculated if they'd get lost or not. But we never spoke to them. Until a few days later when MLB spoke to her Mom and reported to me that, they had in fact, gotten lost again. Or. As they say. Miss Daisy got them lost. She had them turn off the main road at some point, and go down a smaller road, which turned into a wooden road before dead ending into a canal or draining ditch.
MLB shook her head and said, "Like you're going to get back to Dallas by driving on a wooden road."
I laughed and said, "And don't forget they'd already came that way five days earlier. You'd think you'd remember if you drove on a wooden road when you came to the beach."
"Miss Daisy sucks." MLB said. "But at some point, do you really follow her when you know she's probably taking your the wrong way?"
"They're crazy." I said.
"Yes. They. Are. Crazy." She said.
Until I BLOG again...(I've been there I know the way.)
This is why I have no desire for a Miss Daisy. I have no real sense of direction at all, and I, too, would end up trying to drive to Dallas down a wooden road!
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