Hamilton, Heartbreaks, and Happy Salmon: A Fall Adventure to Remember

It all started months ago when Lydia spotted something magical—Hamilton was coming to Hartford in the fall. For a family that had belted out its soundtrack while scrubbing dishes for years, this was big. But there was a twist: Lydia’s senior soccer game was scheduled for the same period. Instead of choosing one over the other, a plan was hatched—why not do both?

So, on a crisp Friday morning, the spaceship (our trusty car) launched toward Connecticut. But this wasn’t just a family trip—it had a business twist. First stop: Wayne, New Jersey, to check out a used laminator Ivan had found. It was right off our route, so we met the seller at the local library. He was an hour late, and we nearly left, but just as we were about to give up, he arrived. A quick inspection later, we bought the laminator on the spot. Of course, it wouldn’t fit in the spaceship, and we had no trailer, so we left it at his house and promised to return.

Next stop: Bridgeport, Connecticut. A new customer had reached out just a week earlier, and—amazingly—his location was right along our path also. Though he wasn’t there when we arrived, we waited and then dropped off samples, shared the IR.Tools story, and got back on the road.

That evening, Lydia and MG joined us at the hotel. We feasted on Five Guys burgers in the lobby and introduced MG to Happy Salmon, a game that didn’t get as wild as it does with a bigger crowd, but still brought plenty of laughs. Lydia stayed the night with us, and we all turned in, excited for the next day.

Saturday began with a hearty hotel breakfast and a walk in a nearby park. 

Lydia headed to the Coast Guard Academy to prep for her senior game, while Lynne and I returned to the hotel. But heartbreak struck—Lydia sprained her ankle during warm-ups and couldn’t play. Still, the Coast Guard team won, jumping from ninth to seventh place and securing a playoff spot. 

Thankfully, we had already moved our Hamilton tickets from Tuesday to Wednesday, anticipating a possible conflict.

That night, we dined at The Recovery with Lydia and MG—so much food, it was almost absurd. Then came a surprise: a live stage version of Hocus Pocus right around the corner. None of us knew much about the original Disney movie, but the play was a blast—full of audience participation and fourth-wall-breaking antics. After dropping MG off, Lydia returned to the hotel for another cozy night.

Sunday was leisurely. Lydia tackled schoolwork while Lynne and I worked. Then we all tried dim sum for the first time with Lydia and Deeba. They ordered for us, and it was delicious. Then came the annual corn maze challenge. Three years ago, we conquered all 16 stations. Two years ago, we barely managed half. This year? We got 15 before time ran out. But I couldn’t resist—I asked the farmer where the last one was. “Easy,” he said. “It’s at E.” Fueled by competitiveness, we dove back in and found it in five minutes. Victory! Our prize? An ice cream sandwich we didn’t really want—but shared anyway. 

Lydia returned to school, and Lynne and I headed to Aunt Christine and Uncle Trevor’s for a two-day visit. 

Monday morning brought a peaceful walk on the Duvall Trail, followed by work and a delicious dinner of chili burritos. That night, the kids piled onto Lynne’s lap for storytime with Miss Rachel, before heading up for bedtime their laughter echoing down stairs—a sweet reminder of our own mischievous children.

Tuesday morning, we walked another trail with Christine and Trevor, this time along Newport Bay on the Rome point trail. We saw oyster farms, boats, and even a massive crane used for offshore windmills. 

Afterward, we explored Jamestown, grabbed deli sandwiches by the water, and visited the ruins of a WWII Navy bunker—graffiti-covered and hauntingly fascinating.

Then it was off to Springfield for the playoff match. Lydia was warming up, ankle taped and ready. The Coast Guard faced a stronger team and lost 4–2, but they played hard and scored twice. And, truthfully, we were a bit relieved—it meant no conflict with Hamilton the next day. We checked into the Farmington Inn, a place dear to us from Lydia’s knee surgery. It’s quaint, with four-poster beds, evening wine and cheese, and cookies. 

Wednesday was a workday until showtime. We met Lydia and Arwen at a park-and-ride, found free parking downtown, and stumbled upon the Peppercorn Grill—a surprisingly upscale Italian spot. The ravioli with orange sauce was divine.

Then came the moment we’d been waiting for: Hamilton at the Bushnell. We climbed 70 steps to the balcony and settled in. The show was breathtaking—music, choreography, performances, all beyond expectation. Seeing it live was far more powerful than watching it on TV. The ending was somber, with Eliza mourning Alexander’s death, a poignant reminder of a life cut short. 

After the show, we said goodbye to Lydia and Arwen and returned to the hotel. 

Early Thursday, we rented a U-Haul to retrieve the laminator. But surprise—no ramp! I was stunned. How would we lift a 200-pound machine? Johnny, ever optimistic, said we could do it. And we did. Loaded, strapped, we got back on the road.

As we drove home, I reflected on the trip. So many memories made, so much laughter shared. As I grow older, I realize how deeply rewarding it is to spend time with my adult children. They’re not just my kids—they’re remarkable people, each exceeding us in their own way. And that warms my heart more than anything.