Yesterday was a bit of a trip down Memory Lane. To start, Kyle and I visited the DeCordova Museum and Sculpture Park in Lincoln, MA. We immediately hit the StairMaster, climbing through five floors of contemporary works, including Joe Johnson’s vivid color photographs of NYC apartments, Anna Hepler’s two and three dimension geometric designs, and Jen Simms’ fascinating Slices of Life.

It was also a gorgeous day for a stroll around the sculpture park or just to lay in the grass thinking… Also, it’s just not every day you get to see a giant pink pig. In fact, the last time I saw one was in 1977 at a Pink Floyd concert at Boston Garden. Well, I think I recall seeing a giant pink pig…

Driving with Kyle included a constant “audio deathmatch” for control of the airwaves. Yesterday’s battle was between the Scud Mountain Boys and a reading of “Peter Pan” Kyle has on cassette. I pulled a few strings (and rank) so Joe Pernice and the boys prevailed, but only after negotiating air rights away to JM Barrie’s retelling for the ride home. I did notice Kyle’s head kind of bobbing along to the music, but I zipped my lip for fear of reigniting the battle for Captain Hook’s honor.

We exited Route 2 West after the enticing sign for the delicious Idylwilde Farms in Acton. We sampled a few things and marveled at the selection of produce, cheeses and breads, and then got back on the road for a leisurely drive through the rural route of 111. I’d traveled that road many times in years past, having worked for NEC in various corporate incarnations at their building in Boxborough. As we turned in I saw the new commercial identity of Cisco Systems. The duck pond is still there, but given the vacancy I witnessed, I don’t think Cisco has the same affinity for decorative fowl that the Japanese tenants had. The rear parking lot is larger, but faded from years of sun and invaded by green upshoots seeking it. The main pathway from the parking lot to the old employee entrance is now a little narrower, giving ground to the now mature shrubs surrounding the pond. Kyle remembered the place and said, “You used to take me here, Dad.” Yep, but that was a long time ago. Everything sure looks older when looked at directly, and not in the distorted rear view.

I looked for the softball field. The last time I played anything organized with a bat and a ball was there. It remains, along with a beach volleyball court and a sign that warns employees of Cisco’s “intent not to award Worker’s Compensation for injuries sustained participating in non-work related activities.”

Back on 111, then off, we slowly made our way through the winding back roads of Harvard, MA and back to 111 again until we could see that last lone farmhouse on the right just before Route 2. I recall there were usually horses there and lights of the season always would warm a cold passerby on dark afternoon commutes.

When I came out of my lazy summer daydream, I heard the voices of Peter Pan and Kyle as Captain Hook. The road ahead was bright.