Manifest Destiny: America from the Bottom Up - Day 16 - Norfolk, CT to Stamford, CT - Ostentation Too Much

I felt the first rain drop at 3:38 am. It was just a very light rain that stopped and started over and over again. I decided to sleep another hour if I could. I did, until the rain had become more regular. It was time to go.

Pack up went fast. I slipped and slid down the hill via the same path I used to climb it just hours before. The rain was falling in earnest now and I made my way over to the Mobil station across the street to buy a coffee and get into my rain gear.

The coffee was just what I needed. It brought me back up to traveling mode. I put the rain parka over my blue fleece coat, hoping to be warm and relatively dry. The temperature was about 40 F. Covering the backpack with new plastic trash bags, I felt slightly better about the long wet walk I had coming.

When I and my stuff were fairly water resistant, it was time to head out down the road again. It would be a long day with some disappointments and a small, sentimental journey through Darien, the town where my dad grew up.

With the heavy rain clouds it was quite dark even after the sun had come up. Traffic was light at this time in the morning as I shuffled west along North Avenue (Route 1), which turned into Cross Street. After I crossed the Norwalk River, I reached this intersection...

It was another one of those times where there were street sign, but no route signs. I wanted to stay on Route 1, but I couldn't tell which street it was. Hell, I couldn't even read the street signs themselves without walking right up to them! Naturally, yet again, I guessed and took the wrong street. It was Belden Avenue, which turned into West Avenue. Somehow I turned onto Dr. Martin Luther King Drive, still thinking I was on Route 1. It wasn't until I reached this intersection that I realized my mistake...

I had to sigh. Now what was I going to do? Well, even if I'd turned and walked back I wouldn't know at which intersection I'd made my wrong turn. I tried to consult the little map I had without getting it too wet, but it was not detailed enough. It did show that 136 went to Darien, be it in a very round-about way.

Again, what should have taken only two miles ended up taking four. And, the rain got even heavier. It was a real slog and such a shame too. The scenery would have been really nice on a sunny day, because 136 was a route that hugged the shore.

I was pretty miserable by the time I reach Wilson Cove Marina. I thought maybe there would be some place to buy a coffee and get out of the rain for a little while. But the marina had no such amenities. As I passed it though, I saw a small gazebo up ahead. I hurried through the little parking lot and into that little shelter...

Rainy Marina on the way to Darien

I stayed there for about a half hour, just resting. I took the plastic bag off the top of the pack to readjust it. It was too raw out for me to actually dry out in the air, but used the towel to dry off my face and hair. Hitting the road again, it was another hour until I joined Route 1 and then walked into downtown Darien. It was about 8:00 am when I found a Dunkin Donuts and went in to charge the laptop and use the Wi-Fi. My first impression of this town was not favorable. I wrote the following on Facebook... 

All that West Bridgeport was in desperate poverty, Darien is in ostentatious wealth. 

Out my Dunkin Donuts window I see an Alfa Romeo, a Mercedes now leaving, a BMW and two large Cadillac SUV's (look like government or secret service vehicles?) in the parking lot...Oh another Mercedes just drove in to replace the last one. 

The houses along Route 136 were giant - one was called "Thomas Cottage" - and the little village before reaching Route 1 had several consignment antique stores with an amazing assortment of beautiful, way over-price stuff in the window. 

There is a woman ordering right now at the counter who started her order with a "Give me..." and is still impatiently saying, "LISTEN to me! Listen... I WANT a coffee, decaf, filled only halfway, a Boston Creme...no not that one...no...no...yes, that one on the end! OK, now wait...this coffee is too full I wanted it HALF full..." 

God, please prevent me from getting up and wiping that doughnut all over her face... And the rotten-rich, quasi-NYC accent coming out of her mouth is grating on my nerves; something like using an apple peeler to remove a tattoo. 

Another guy is pacing back and forth, weaving through people talking on his cellphone more loudly than any other sound in the place. Ha! And I have to stay here pretty much all day. I guess it beats McDonald's on Main St. in Bridgeport, but only by a tiny piece of a millimeter.

After leaving the above message at Facebook, I headed back out into the rain and walked toward Stamford on Route 1. It didn't take long to come upon Beach Drive--the street my dad had grown up on...

I was going to wait and come back the next day, but decided to walk down that street. I barely recognized the neighborhood, having last seen it over 30 years before. I wanted to take a picture of my dad's house, but I took pictures of the wrong one (so, not included here)! I did get a good (but rainy) video of Holly Pond, the small cove at the end of Beach Drive...

Holly Pond.

I walked back up the street trying to remember what I was thinking the last time I was here, as a kid. All I got back were images, just like today. I thought I'd feel more emotion visiting that neighborhood after so many years. But I really didn't feel much, except that the past is only useful for memories. And memories are only useful for a little while.

I took a left back onto Route 1 and walked into Stamford. I really wanted to sleep outside but everything had been soaked, I was soaked too and decided to sacrifice a large amount of my savings for a room at America's Best Value Inn. I'll have good things to say about this chain later in the year, but this particular place was a dump. They charged me $90 and I got a stinking, dirty, unvaccumed room with no plates on the outlets, a phone that didn't work and spotty Wi-Fi.

I got online for a while to plan my trip to Philadelphia the next day. I would be so glad to get out of Connecticut. The state had been a downer at the worst, and an indifferent and fickle place at the best. Pennsylvania should be different. At least that's what I was hoping for.

While touching base with folks at Facebook, I noticed that a couple of my friends were getting kind of preaching about trusting Jesus, etc. This had happened a few times now. It was one of my pet peeves and wanted to nip it in the bud. I wrote the following in response...

For the last two weeks I have been turning over and over in my head how to present this concern. I'll say it as best as I can. I might delete this post soon after, once I feel the message has been received. 

I have a lot of friends here...probably more than I deserve (maybe many more than I deserve). They range from psychedelic people, to old friends, to family, to Urantia Book readers to full-blown atheists. All have shone much love and support in the best way they know how. And I do love you all. Love is what we all can have faith in; God, or no God. This is not directed at any one individual. 

Many who know me well have perceived that I am not a big fan of unasked for advice. I asked for advice about the glasses and the response was helpful. I have all kinds of options I was not aware of now. THANK YOU! It truly helped me. 

But, something that I am very much allergic to is religious counsel. I don't need it at all. I never see atheists presuming to counsel me about not believing. In this way they are more respectful. 

Part of this project is meant to demonstrate that none of us knows better what anyone else needs in the spiritual department. Some of the problem I have seen out here is that people are held down by the moral expectations of others. Ideology (religious and otherwise) is the poison that pollutes America, and maybe the whole world. No one knows better what you should do, than you. 

The mind, the soul, and the spirit are exclusive realms of the personal experience--IMO. If you have a belief system that works for you, that is great! That is what it's all about. But as soon as you cross over into feeling that you need to influence other people's belief systems with yours, you are going too far. 

You will notice that I talk about my self, my soul, and my spirit. That is because my experience at this time - my Reasons for doing what I'm doing - are exclusively tied to my personal belief system. 

But, mark you well, I am not advocating that anyone else adopt or take too seriously for themselves what I take seriously for myself, in these regards. You certainly may or may not. But it is up to you. And it should stay that way. My mantra is: Think for yourself. 

To those who are socially (as opposed to personally) religious. This mission of mine is not a religious quest. Yes, my personal religion has much to do with what I decide to do out here on the street. I think it is important to lay those cards on the table so that you know what motivates me. 

But as for the true purpose of what I am undertaking? It is social and cultural. The results may be anything ranging from spiritual to scientific. And I do believe that someone much greater than myself will rise to tug that train down the track. I have nothing whatsoever to do with how that person decides to go about the work that must come after me. But I also know (from within) that my stance as a non-religious actor in all of this will be fully sanctioned by that same person, though I know nothing else about it.

I have had to send several private messages to overly-zealous religious people who are trying to morally instruct me (and perhaps hope to have their comments influence others), by their own standards. I know that many of my friends here are appalled by having "salvation" or "God" shoved down their throats. 

And even though I am a complete believer in both of those things, I don't think others who don't believe in them should be subject to them through my profile page. They are things I would never force upon them myself. 

Honestly? I find it embarrassing. 

This is not a crusade on my part, and so I certainly hope that religious people can beat back the temptation to make it religious on their part. Me doing all this stuff is not an opportunity for you (you know who you are) to proselytize. 

Here is the most important thing to remember--at least from my perspective. I may tell about hardships or discomfort I am having, but that is not a call for spiritual counsel, only human comfort and understanding. I am simply and honestly reporting my experiences. I think it is important to do so. 

Sorry to get so heavy, especially since I am feeling better than I have in the last few days by getting myself a much-needed break from the rain. 

That's it. Perhaps I'm looking gift horses in the mouth. But I am willing to take the risk of losing some support among these preachers, in order to preserve the dignity of those who are offended by being preached at. I myself can't stand being preached at.

The above post was taken fairly well. I was unfriended by two people and had a long debate with another. But ultimately, I think it was received the way I meant it. The last thing I did was buy a train ticket to Philadelphia for the next day. I had no desire to walk through the New York greater metropolitan area. It was one of the few cities I refused to deal with.

Growing tired, I crawled into bed and slept tight, just in case the bedbugs might bite.