Cabin Fever and Cudgels

Becca’s been sick, and now she’s a little stir crazy. As such, we couldn’t wait until nightfall and made it a date day. The main concern with this decision was where to eat. Most of the restaurants we’ve earmarked for dates are only open for dinner, so we went in the opposite direction and opted for a greasy spoon.

Every town has ‘em, but not all of them are equal. The best thing about diners such as these is self-evident: breakfast all day. Not that we’d had our hearts set on breakfast, but in the lumbering hours between waking and twilight on a lazy Saturday (say, 11 AM to 5 PM), it’s nice to have options. We settled on lunch, and were underwhelmed. That’ll learn us.

We’ve been to many a splendid greasy spoon in the past, and this was not one of them. Hey, they can’t all be winners. We’ll speak no more of it.

Due to the aforementioned cabin fever, Becca felt like taking a drive up North Street, culminating with a stop at Emporium. Emporium is, for lack of a better word, a novelty shop, and it’s a lot of fun. The Wrights, who own it, are always good for conversation, which on this day ranged from moustaches (real or synthetic) to the product line of Blue Q to blogging. It turns out the we know a “billshotme” as well as a “benshotme,” photographers from either end of the state who unwittingly share a title. And, in accordance with my understanding of the universe, they must engage in mortal combat to restore harmony to the spheres.

All this interaction with people who are not Michael was doing wonders for Becca, so, after buying some licorice (which I don’t usually like, but the stuff they sell at Emporium is like crack), she was ready for the main event: The Armed & Dangerous weaponry exhibit at the Berkshire Museum. Because nothin’ says ‘romance’ like a mace.

We knew we were in for a good time when the children exiting the show were battling with plastic swords before even leaving the museum. After Herb hooked us up with our memberships and maps and programs and several charming, yet meandering anecdotes, we were left with less than an hour to peruse some of the most beautifully crafted implements of destruction that history has to offer. There was no way we could do it, especially when they started up a swordfighting demonstration (which we just missed) and serving appetizers (which, well, the diner did leave us rather dissatisfied), so we’ll have to go back to see what Europe’s (no doubt brilliant) contributions to murder & mayhem are on display.

In line for appetizers, we were behind one of the “knights,” who was giving a brief synopsis or armor through the Middle Ages to a few boys. He was very knowledgeable, and I’m sure it’s a worthy academic pursuit, but we rather pitied him - imaging having a wealth of insight on a subject nobody over the age of twelve wants to hear about.

We got through Native America, Polynesia, Aftrica, Indo-Persia & Japan. All very fascinating. If ever I’m cleaved in twain, I hope it’s with an implement of such unparallelled beauty.

Coming out of the museum onto South Street might have been the best part of the date. Looking down a twilit street with the headlamps and traffic lights against the sihlouettes of mountains and a cool pink sky reminded us how lucky we are to be here. “This is the best time of day for photography,” said Becca, but I don’t think there’s really any time that this view isn’t breathtaking (and yes, I’m looking at her as I think this).