Call Me Ishmael. No, really, you should.

This was a week for madness.  It began with the drunk guys who couldn't decide if they wanted more to relieve themselves on the sidewalk or beat up Andrew and take his watch. It ended with 2 crazy people -- one who was so drunk that he couldn't tell the police officer what day it was when she came to chase him out of the subway for panhandling, another who was so wasted at 8 AM that he was singing "AYE AYE AYE AYE" over and over and -- get this -- FOLLOWING US.  From one train car to another to another. . .we could not get away from him. So by the time we got out of the subway, another unwashed stumbling guy began making his way toward us when I looked his direction and said "If ONE MORE CRAZY PERSON approaches me, I am GOING TO SCREAM." He about fell down the steps then but left us alone. We sat down on a bench to consult a map near Boston Common and another drunk man (this one had vomited and/or poured Vodka down his shirt -- I know because he was still carrying the glass bottle) came straight up to me and began to babble incoherently. I started waving my arms and yelling at him too -- "I can't take this crazy city one minute longer! If you are a crazy person, DO NOT APPROACH ME!! Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!" And of course he stumbled off as well.

So it was beyond time for a break from the metropolitan loveliness that is Boston. We hopped on a train to Gloucester, Massachusetts on Cape Ann and left the skyline all behind, embracing Judith Sargent Murray's bright yellow house and the charm of the seaport town she once called home.  Since it's an active port, there's little for tourists to do there -- thank heavens -- so we took a Whale Watching tour. Incredible.

The boat goes about 1 million miles an hour to lose the coastline -- of course, whales don't frolic in shallow shores unless they're in trouble -- and we were driving into a headwind. The boat tipped, plunged, rocked, rolled, and dived. It had no mercy for any of us.  Thank the good Lord for my past boating experiences and a little patch called "Transderm Scop" that keeps a weakling like myself from throwing herself overboard. Everyone else was green to the gills. I got soaked with saltwater, the harsh mineral lashing at my face and drying in my hair, making it stiff, but I couldn't think of a cooler place to be.

Then, we saw the whales. 10 humpback whales, mainly calves, moms, and "escorts."  And while they didn't do any acrobatics, they did show us a few fins. I have a video but blogger for some reason is making it impossible to post. I, along with the camera, crew, and other tourists, pitched and rolled with the waves. If I ever get it posted, I recommend dramamine if you get curious.