The Massachusetts Whirlwind (Day 1)

Gayle and I left my house in Pennsylvania’s Lehigh Valley at 7:50 a.m. Our destination was the Embassy Suites in Marlborough, Massachusetts, for EH Jacobs’ book signing at Tatnuck Booksellers tomorrow.

I noticed the other day that Dunkin has its spring menu out and I was very excited to have a pistachion flavored coffee. So, after about an hour on the road, we stopped in Bernardsville, N.J., for breakfast at Dunkin — and I didn’t like my coffee. Which I used to love.

For some reason, no matter how many times I told the GPS not to, it insisted on taking us over the George Washington Bridge and threw the Bronx. That was unexpected.

And somewhere early on in Connecticut, the tire pressure light came on. But briefly thereafter we stopped at a service center in Alltown that had free air, but it was too cold and windy to check the tires and deal with them. I’m fairly certain is the 60 degree to 30 degree temperature drops from the course of the last week causing issues, but it could be every time I come to Massachusetts, I don’t put enough air in my tires.

New Haven

Before we left I googled interesting bookstores around the half-way point so we can get out of the car, wander a bit and connect with some new people. New Haven popped up as the stop with the most potential based on geographic location, the time we left (Because we leave early and stuff isn’t open sometimes until 11 a.m. or noon), and the number of potential stops in the vicinity.

It’s usually done by gut feel, google search and social media. And I typically completely forget WHY I picked a place.

STOP 1: POSSIBLE FUTURES

So, if you don’t know, I have a bachelor’s degree in English/French language and literature and a second bachelor’s in international affairs. I did somewhere around a third of my master’s degree in world history– where I intended to focus on post-colonial Francophone Africa. My academic interest is in stereotypes and the racism against indigenous people, especially in the case of the French, the prejudice against Muslims. The French treated the Muslim colonial subjects as the lowest class of citizen, deeming them unfit for miscegenation (a tactic popular as part of the civilizing mission in Asia, for example) because it would weaken the French bloodlines.

Gayle and I approach this bookstore and find a mural. Gayle loves murals. We find a memorial to abolitionist Ruth Wilson Gilmore and evidence that in warmer weather this area houses a container garden.

The academic critical theorist in me loved seeing the works of Aimé Cesaire and Franz Fanon on the shelves, with memoirs of people like Josephine Baker (which I almost bought). Black novelists (stunning collection of Octavia Butler, but she is making a comeback) and quite a few Louise Ehrlich. The inventory included feminist books, Muslim books, lots of queer and other marginalized voices. And such great vibes! This one will make my bookstore and book detour list as part of my Substack newsletter/resources.

Although our other stops were only a mile away on the Yale Campus, we opted to drive as the wind was brutal.

And I did the worst parallel park job of my life on York Street. We’re not going to talk about it. But in my defense, the space was small. But I got in it!

GREY MATTER (south)

This was a really great used bookstore with reasonable prices. (Have you been to those bookstores that base their prices on the original price of the book? I don’t like those.) I bought three books– The Long Island one by Taffy what’s-her-name and two books about colonization in Africa from the 1960s. My bill was $19.

I’m not sure if I should write this… but the vibes between the two places made me think… Possible Futures was obviously the more liberal place and had a lively energy, lots of color, friendly staff who liked to chat, and a real sense of mission and place. Grey Matter felt much more conservative, dusty and stodgy and entrenched in that sense of academia and, well, whiteness. (Which one of my Africa books is by an Indian man from an Indian publishing company so I can’t wait to see his report of what was happening in Africa.)

Gayle grabbed an iced chai on the way back to the car, but sadly she dropped it before she even had a sip.

Speaking of sad, the GPS continued its revolt and took us up smaller roads to the Boston area. Route 20 looked very, very strange. The buildings were all empty at the side of road and neglected and lots of construction everywhere– Gayle thinks they are widening the highway.

We arrived at the hotel and were extremely impressed with our room. And the snacks. And the location and the friendliness of the staff. We were scheduled to meet author E.H. Jacobs and his wife at Welly’s for dinner. And I gave Ed his royalty check.

I had a lovely fig and arugula pizza and came back to the hotel for a soak in the hot tub.

I had hoped to fulfill one of Gayle’s wishes and go see Harvard’s Gutenberg Bible, but we discovered too late that they do not have Saturday hours.

Day 2: Breakfast in Salem (New Hampshire), Musuem of Printing and Lowell, Massachusetts

Checking out of our lovely Doubletree hotel (goodbye cookies!), Gayle and I headed to Sammy J’s Luncheonette for breakfast. Gayle made a comment about the proximity of the state line, not realizing it was so close. So I decided to take her to the next state– less than six miles away– for breakfast.

I knew it was a good choice when we arrived and had to circle around the building to find a parking space. And we found ourselves in a weird dumpy area, next to a fire station and what looked like an empty grocery store. There was a back door to the restaurant that asked customers to please not wear cleats in the restaurant.

I think we found the local spot where all the boomer men eat, which is surely the sign of a good diner. I had a kielbasa and cheddar omelette with baked beans and marble rye toast. Gayle had cranberry walnut pancakes.

After we finished eating, we put gas in the car and the GPS took us a lovely back route to the museum. We arrived in Haverhill about forty minutes before the Museum of Printing opened. Gayle suggested perhaps we could go early, park the car and walk the town. I pointed out that I didn’t believe the museum was in a town.

And sure enough, the museum was in a residential neighborhood, wooded, on narrow, badly aged one-lane streets. So we went to a shopping plaza about 1/3 of a mile away. It had a Marshall’s and I’ve been trying to use a gift card that Little Dog’s Mom gave me for my birthday.

At 9:25 a.m., we turned up on the doorstep of Marshall’s. And they open at 9:30. We waited– and here’s the kicker– a crowd assembled with us. TO GO TO MARSHALL’S. That killed fifteen minutes. And I got some cool stuff: coffee, syrup, candy and PINK NAIL POLISH.

We got into the car a little before 9:50 a.m. and drove back to the museum.

And there, my friends, let me tell you, the folks at the Museum of Printing can REALLY pack stuff in. The museum is relatively small but has just everything in it. The story the museum tells covers so many different aspects of printing. I’ll be writing more about that over at the Parisian Phoenix blog.

Then we stopped at Andover Bookstore, and Andover was cute and at the tail end of a scarecrow festival. The town was quaint but also a bit boring.

Next we visited Lowell, which I’m fairly certain is my great-grandmother’s birthplace. I actually downloaded a new parking app for Lowell. It has a rich history as a transportation center, canals and trains and all that jazz. Once we parked the car we noticed a sign, “Mochinut: More than Just a Donut.” I asked Gayle, “Can we go see what that is?”

And after we ordered some mochinuts (which we tasted after dinner and the ‘classic’ tasted like funnel cake) and a brown sugar thai tea with pudding and boba, we found an art store (a good one) and then we meandered to lala books where E.H. Jacobs is having a book event next week. Very cool store. Had small town vibes in a very urban space. And I bought some local books.

At that point we came to our hotel to find a charming desk clerk. She asked if either of us had pets with us. I answered, “Just my hair.”

We’re at an Extended Stay America. The dishwasher has a swamp in the bottom of it, the sink drips and the internet keeps dropping even though I paid extra for the “enhanced” wifi because I couldn’t get on the internet at all and had no cellular service. I even got to call tech support!

That’s when we went to a nearby Mexican restaurant, Gayle found it and told me to order a margarita. The host was from Macungie. We started chitchatting when I asked if he had a t-shirt with the same phrase as the neon in the doorway: eat tacos, drink tequila, have fun.

And all I need to say about that is that the cocktail I had included cassis, rhubarb bitters, maple syrup and fig and was beyond delectable. And they had this enormous appetizer of Brussel sprouts. It was sweet, savory and just yummy.

Day 1 of the Massachusetts adventure: Mystic

Yesterday, I drove my friend Gayle to Massachusetts.

We’re driving up route 287 through New Jersey, 50 miles into the journey, and the tire pressure light goes on. We drive a couple miles and no exits advertise gas stations, so eventually I get off at the next exit. We drive through some beautiful tree-lined streets, no businesses in site, and eventually I see a sign for police. I follow it.

If I need to wait for AAA, a police station nearby is a good thing. And maybe a police station means a town. No such luck.

Eventually, I pull over. I can’t find the tire gauge we used to keep in Eva’s car. She confirms it never made it into my car. Gayle uses her phone and finds the nearest QuickCheck while I walk around the car kicking the tires and listening for hissing sounds that would indicate a nail or something in the tire. With the tires having passed my inspection, we head to the closest QuickChek.

We use the facilities. They have no air machine. So we walk to the Auto Zone next door and buy a cheap tire gauge and a quart of oil. Might as well buy the quart of oil.

It looks like Gayle’s side of the car might be a little low. We drive across the street to the Sunoco. No air. We get back on the highway, and two exits later, we see a sign for Wawa. As we look for Wawa, we see a QuickChek with air. I fill all the tires. The light does not go out. I reset the light. It comes on.

Eventually, we give up and drive with the light on.

We arrived in Mystic, Connecticut at 12:20 instead of 11:15. But the shopping village near the aquarium where one can find Alice’s Little Haunted Bookshop was very cool. So cool that Gayle was cold and huddled in the corner… Actually, Gayle found some great children’s books but she really was cold and I didn’t notice how miserable she looked because I was preoccupied with the chandelier.

But the true winners at the shopping village were Becca Rose (so much tarot and books, so many spooky hair clips) and Cloak & Wand— a coffee shop that sold wands and cloaks and books.

From there, Gayle wanted to check out the walk box for the local Volkssport trail which was at a Howard Johnson’s nearby and we had lunch at Mystic Diner while plotting our next adventure. The hope was a short walk– not the full 5K– and then heading over to Stonington to see the new location of Square Bank Books and visit Lara Ehrlich’s writing studio, Thought Fox Writers Den.

But Mystis had too many interesting twists and turns, and a candy store, and a drawbridge, and we ended up starting the walk at the wrong entrance of the museum and adding more than half a mile…

So while we walked by the former location of the bookstore, we did not make it to the new one. The drive to Massachusetts was uneventful, except for some traffic in Worcester and discussion of my great grandmother’s birthplace in Lowell.

We arrived at Doubletree for our warm cookies around 6:30 and I had dinner and was in the hot tub by 8 p.m. The hotel restaurant where we ate was named Characters— another omen that we ended up in the right place. Speaking of omens we found pennies at just about every stop today.