Our Encounter with Senator Teddy

Fifteen months ago, Joanne (my wife) and I combined a short business trip with a mini-vacation to our new favorite vacation spot - Cape Cod.  "Home base" for the week was Hyannis.

On Saturday, we woke up to a typical New England-y spring morning, feeling a little spent after spending a longggggg day before on Martha's Vineyard.  The weather was not cold but the skies were gray; everything glistened from the slow, steady drizzle.

It was the type of day many people, like me, won't admit they enjoy - because
it presents a very good excuse to do nothing.   Which, the last time I looked, should be a part of EVERY vacation.  It's also what I do best.  That...and not asking for directions. 

Sipping coffee in bed and catching up with the "outside world" on CNN, we decided this would be "the" day to explore Hyannis, Mass.  Had our sights already set on a casual, waterfront seafood restaurant but before rewarding ourselves with fried belly clams and cold beer, Joanne wanted to see the where the Kennedy clan spent their summers. 

I put my "stalker/paparazzi cap" on and - with a little help from google - deduced it couldn't be more than 15 minutes away from our hotel. So we dressed, had a leisurely brunch and jumped in the Hertz to begin our search for what many Dems would consider the political equivalent of the Taj Mahal, Shangri-la and, of course, Camelot, all in one:  The Kennedy Compound!


But where to begin?  "Google Earth" gave us more than a clue where it was.  And we knew it faced the water, so off we were.  At our first stop, we did exactly the opposite of what every good stalker and subversive knows, instinctively, NOT to do.  After locating the Hyannis Country Club (a landmark we knew was nearby) we pulled up to two uniformed and armed police officers.

In my best soothing, midwestern 'twang' of a voice (with sunglasses-off so they could look me straight in the eye, lest there be any doubt we were just tourists) I feigned a look at my GPS and then asked possibly the most stupid question of my adult life (other than, are you sure those are really contractions?):  "Would you mind telling us how to get to the Kennedy Compound?"

In a millisecond, the officers, surmising we weren't the Obama's, Kerry's or Clinton's said: "uh, were not really sure...where it is."   Aha.  Something tells me they're lying.  But you've gotta get up pretty early in the morning to pull one over on us...even though it was about one o'clock in  the afternoon.  We were on to them!

Jeez, I second-guessed; overdid the Midwestern accent thing.  Dammit!  Now two police officers were gonna 'tail' us around Hyannis all day!  I pretended not to notice if either of them was talking into a wrist or shoulder.  They weren't.  Then, I muttered something like "thanks, anyway" with one of those stupid half-smiles and drove off at 4 mph. With my flashers on.

To my surprise and dismay, they didn't follow us.  Then I got a little miffed. What, we don't look dangerous enough?  For all they knew, we could've been a 'front' group scoping the Kennedy compound for security breaches.  The yellow Hawaiian shirt, Yankee cap and white socks w/sandals probably did the trick and totally threw them off.

Problem was, I became obsessed with helicopters hovering overhead.  There weren't any but it was almost like I could hear them in my head.  OK, so maybe I watched "Goodfellas" one too many times.  Who hasn't?

At that moment, Joanne took over as navigator and seemed possessed - but in a good way.  She started barking directions like Tom Brady on a Sunday afternoon in Foxboro.  Or Sully beginning his final approach into the Hudson.  Turn left, bear right, slow down, turn right....

I slowed down to make what we thought might be our final left turn.  Just then our eyes turned left and, not more than 500 feet away, we saw...could it be...a golf cart?  Coming down the short, somewhat hilly street on which we were about to turn.  Was it...?  No, what were the odds? We were indulging ourselves in a boatload of wishful thinking.

But wait...before we could make the turn, this "golf cart" made a quick, rolling stop and a right onto 'our' street.  As it passed us on the driver's side of our car, we realized  that the slightly overweight driver with a bright red windbreaker, full face and average stocking cap was none other than....you guessed it: SENATOR TED KENNEDY. In the flesh.

The "holy sh*ts" and "oh my gods" broke our brief silence.  Joanne reached for her digital camera.  But before you could say "pahhk the cahh." the golf cart with Ted and his two passengers - a fairly young boy and an obedient-looking  black dog were...poof...gone.  Holy shnikes we just saw Ted and have no proof of it.  If a tree falls in the forest and....oh, who cares, he's driving away!

Like any good ad hoc stalker, we decided to "cut him off at the pass."  We knew he was going one way, so we went the opposite direction. Yes, I know that sounds counter intuitive.  Be patient.  I made the a right turn and started to channel my "inner Columbo" - looking to our right as we approached each side street.  Sure enough, there he was.  Again!  Camera-ready, I seemlessly turned the rental car down that street and slowed to an inconspicuous 1.3 mph crawl.

As Ted and his 'gang' approached - again - I lowered my driver's side window, ever so slowly.   No herky-jerky moves to alarm the good Senator.  Then, my left arm slowly reached out into the cool, misty air like I was a about to signal a right turn.  I wasn't! 

Now what?  Well, as Ted approached, I considered a simple "We love you."  But, frankly, my inner self told me that was a tad too "beatle-esque."   Plus, since he had just announced the presence of a brain tumor, it wasn't enough to yell out some shrill, groupie thing. 

My finely-tuned wit took over as his golf cart broke the plane of our front bumper.  I shouted out the window - not too loudly but loud enough: "Hi Senator.  Hope you're feeling better and best of luck with... " I caught myself and stopped short of saying "...your tumor."

He didn't hear the word "with," did he?  Jeez, was that the best I could do?  I had had at least three blocks to work out this repartee, how could I have blown it?  The last thing he needed on a ride with his grandson(?) (nephew?, stepson? does it matter?) was some gawker reminding him he had recently received possibly the worst news of his life.  Ugh.  The damage was done.

But then, just as he was about to pass our car, I noticed the cart slowing and could now see a slight smile on his face.  His right arm went up to the 12 o'clock position  - his open, waving palm slightly above his head and facing toward us - as he bellowed back in his finest New England brogue: "Thenkkkk youuuuuuuu...."  Teddy had spoken.  To us!  We couldn't have been more excited if it had been a "Close Encounter of whatever...."  With Richard Dreyfuss there!

Yes, we had, much to our surprise on this dreary, drab Cape Cod Spring day, made contact.  With a superior life-form, no less.  No picture but we had just talked to Senator Edward Kennedy!  Well, practically.

That day - unlike today - was a very very good day.  We proceeded to celebrate our "get" with a tour of everything "Kennedy" in Hyannis (including pics of the compound), followed by seafood and drinks on the water.  Today, we're so very sad, yet proud to say, "Teddy, we hardly knew ye but miss you like a best friend." Our thoughts are with you.  Rest in peace, dear man.