Angelic State Department – Who Knew?

Fruits of Yesterday's Adventures

I have a new set of heroes and the biggest surprise is they are federal bureaucrats. I’m hesitant to reveal their excellence in fear other bureaucrats will attack them for their competence. (I know what a unionized environment looks like). The State Department office in Boston that operates the Passport Agency were superb yesterday. As I related in the last post, my wife’s passport expired two weeks ago. We learned this as she was getting ready to board her flight to Panama. We rescheduled the flight for this morning in hopes of obtaining a same day passport yesterday.

Wandering Boston Together

When we tried to make an appointment for yesterday we were told the earliest available was today at 9:30am. Since her flight was scheduled to take off seven minutes after that I didn’t think that would work. I decided we’d travel into Boston yesterday throw ourselves on the mercy of the bureaucrats. I know, there are a million holes in that plan – especially given my long and storied exposure to working with the federal version on that lifeform. I knew it was a Hail Mary type effort and I actually woke up at 4am and couldn’t go back to sleep because I was convinced the plan was doomed.

Lunch at Cheers

My wife was strangely serene about the whole process and convinced we would emerge successful. This was a strange reversal of roles as I am usually the family optimist and vice versa. We made the trek into Boston and found parking after a dizzying climb in the government center garage. After a little bit of exploring we found our way to Causeway Street and federal building. I wore my retired Army ball cap in hope on engendering some sympathy. The State Department Security officers are the ushers and door minders for the passport agency.

Pumpkin Ice Cream

I walked up to the first one and explained our plight (I’m sure he’d heard a version of the same story several thousand times). He directed me to the Will Call window and the guy there asked to see a copy of the airline ticket and promptly told me he had changed our appointment to 1:30pm that day! I thought this was a huge win and as we walked out the security guard came over and asked me what happened. When we told him, he directed us to go right in for the next stage instead of waiting for 1:30 (I think this is where the hat came into play). Twenty minutes after walking into the agency my wife’s passport was being processed.

Grandfather Indoctrination LEssions
In Her Now Favorite Pants

Same day passports are all delivered at 4pm so we had a few hours to kill. We were so elated at our success at that point that we couldn’t have cared less. That few hours turned into a very special time precisely because it wasn’t planned and we spent it entirely with each other with no accompanying responsibilities. We walked over to the Quincy Market and had lunch at Cheers on their outdoor patio on the gorgeous autumn day as the weird humidity that had dogged us for the last few days finally fled. One of the ubiquitous street performers was trying to do his show for the smaller weekday crowds nearby. He eventually pitched a fit because he didn’t feel the audience, and I quote, “was fully committed to his performance” and walked off in a snit. I don’t think he received many tips.

Dad I Think He's Learning

After lunch we both went with our strengths, my wife went shopping and I engaged in some dedicated people watching which the area surrounding the Quincy Market could easily be described as a target rich environment. My wife emerged after locating some “incredible” sales and we discovered a subterranean ice cream shop that featured some pumpkin flavored ice cream (is there anything that isn’t pumpkin flavored anymore?). She pronounced it delicious which I took her word on. We then set out for the North End of Boston which my wife had never seen. We were accompanied by a rapidly deflated bag of still warm chocolate chip cookies we acquired on the way. She loved the North End and even submitted to a history lesson about Paul Revere and the Old North Church.

The Gift Process, Of COurse

It was simply a perfect afternoon, buoyed measurably by our earlier success at the passport agency. It always amazes me to re-discover the person who I spend literally every day with after thirty five years of marriage can still elevate a simple afternoon into something incredibly special. I think I may, in fact, like her. Old married couples, or young ones for that matter, should make an effort to spend time together in the midst of hectic lives to reacquire the motivation that led to lifelong commitment.

The passport was waiting at the appointed hour and we now faced the return to Worcester having sampled both the morning and evening rush hours for Boston. It took us over two hours to travel the 47 miles back home. For once I didn’t mind the painfully slow traffic because all my earlier pessimism had been dashed by the excellence we encountered at the Boston State Department office. I made my third day in a row early morning drive to Boston this morning to the airport with the newest passport in the US inventory in my wife’s hand. She is currently winging her way to Panama for a trip cut short by two days but knowing it could have been a lot worse except for yesterday all too fun day. I mad the even longer trip, both to and from, the airport in less time than the single trip home last night.

Meanwhile the FBR is conducting intensive grandfather training down in New Jersey. Wingman’s dad recently relocated to the east coast (Maryland) from California because of the right coast presence of the little sprite that is now running circles around him. We caught up with them on our return home and it was obvious she was reveling having him around for the week. You can never get enough of family, believe it or not.

The Bad Cinema project count rises to #28 out of 100, with Phantom from Space which had to have been financed by the tobacco industry – see review.