Art tour bucket list, Chapter 1: Reservations when sleepy, audio book, "PLEASE STEP AWAY," etc.

The art tour bucket list was a huge success. T'was an adventure. We laughed, we almost cried, we ate, we enjoyed art - we even threw in an extra museum, and we listened to a lot of Mansfield Park by Jane Austen, my book club book, while driving. Did Mini object profusely about this? Yes, she did. 

When I scored a pair of those cheap free head phones in the workout room at our first hotel which allowed me to listen to my book without involving the whole car, did she beg me to explain what was happening? Why, yes she did. 

In case you are new here:  my 19 yo daughter, Mini, and I took my 79 yo uncle, who has cancer, across Ohio to check out some art museums. Uncle Marty is a genius and he's really interested in art. He's experienced more loss than most. His wife and two children passed away and he's all alone. He recently relocated from his home in Texas of maybe 47 years. He now lives in an assisted living facility not far from my four siblings and I, 22 great nieces and nephews, and my parents. He's my dad's brother. 

How fitting was it that we road tripped in Uncle Marty's Ford Fusion, aka 'TEX', that Coach and I bought from him? 

On the drive out, Mini asked if there was something specific that he'd like to eat for lunch. He tried to defer to us, but we said NOPE, THIS IS YOUR SPECIAL TRIP. He mentioned Arby's. That's the same place his parents used to ask me to take them when they lived in the same retirement community like 30 years ago. Apple doesn't fall from the tree. Mini located an Arby's on the border of Indiana and Ohio. We set it as our new destination but didn't tell him until we pulled in. We're sneaky that way. 

I made the hotel reservations late Sunday night AFTER I'd returned from Curly's AAU bball tourney in Cincinnati. If you think this is foreshadowing that I messed something up, give yourself a gold star. 

I believed our Youngstown Hampton Inn was right across the street from our first stop, the Butler Institute of American Art. When we left Chicago, I set the Butler as our destination. 

We arrived late Monday afternoon. There was no Hampton Inn to be found. I looked up the hotel address in my email and off we went - 15 minutes back in the direction that we'd come from. Dang, that sucked. 

SNAP THE WHIP

While Uncle and Mini used the Hampton Inn's facilities, I approached the front desk. I explained our bucket list agenda, our tight schedule, and how I THOUGHT this place was across the street from the Butler - which is where we were going when it opened Tuesday morning at 11. 

"Is there any chance that we could cancel this reservation and rebook at a Hilton in downtown Youngstown?"

The woman was kind enough to find us a Double Tree in the city and cancelled our reservation with no penalty. We drove BACK to the city and walked to a restaurant for dinner.

Waiting to see Homer's work.

Uncle only cared to see one painting at the Butler. It was 'Snap the Whip' by his favorite American artist, Winslow Homer. It's a cute depiction of simpler days, as Uncle would say, featuring kids playing a game, oddly enough, of snap the whip. 

Can you see the little security
system? No? Neither did Marty. 

Before we got to the museum I enjoyed breakfast with a college friend who lives in Youngstown. Bonus bucket list - and it wasn't even my bucket. Mini came to break up my breakfast at 10:35, so we could be at the Butler at 10:43. It opened at 11. Uncle Marty parked his walker in front of the building to wait. When I spotted a janitor come out with a bin, I decided to see if they'd let us in early. They did. 

There was a little wire 'fence' thing, positioned very low, all around the perimeter of the room. Uncle was so excited that he pushed his walker on wheels right up to the painting. He also pointed AT THE PAINTING. 

PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE EXHIBIT. A computer generated voice boomed over the loudspeaker repeatedly. Mini and I looked around and we knew - Marty was the culprit. Frist we died laughing, (who could blame us?), then we explained to dear Uncle that he might need to stop ramming the sensitive wire system with his walker.  

Fifteen minutes later we were back on the road, heading west towards Cleveland. This is not an exaggeration. We were on a mission, damn it. Stay tuned. There's more. Another post might sneak in here first, since I'm heading out of town for the weekend and I have a little something prepped about . . . Mini. 

Have you ever heard of Winslow Homer? Have you messed things up, like hotel reservations, when trying to do it when you're tired/late at night?  Do you love Arby's?