Who's Your Audience

In 2004, I was sitting in The Oak Room in Boston with a bunch of coworkers and clients. It was early in the evening and may actually have been Halloween. Some of our clients had dressed up for the occasion. There were witches and devils and, yes, vixens. They wanted to go to Salem for the evening and party. Now, in 2004, I had pretty much become burned out on the traveling scene. The life of lavish hotels, expensive wine, steak, and creme brulee had become a bore. So, when the clients offered to pay for an evening in Salem, I declined and went up to my plush room to sleep. I just wanted to go home.

I have since regretted that decision, only because the history of Salem has always intrigued me. And what I imagined Salem to be was a quaint town shrouded in the mystery of the witch trials complete with New England touches. The Salem that I saw on our anniversary trip to Massachusetts, however, was a different animal altogether. I'm not disappointed I went...I just wish I had experienced Salem in an off season, for the tourists that gathered at each landmark buzzed around like a swarm of flies, obscuring the view and blemishing an otherwise beautiful town. It was so crowded that I began to feel like I was standing in line for an amusement park ride for the better portion of the day.

That being said, on reflection, the annoyance of the crowds is now obscured by moments like sparks that made our visit to Salem actually quite fantastic.





We arrived early at the wharf to catch the Salem Ferry, buying sweatshirts and t-shirts then enjoying a cup of coffee prior to our tour. We took the Salem Ferry from Boston to Salem.



It was a 45-minute ride along the coastline. The day was crisp and beautiful. We really couldn't have asked for better weather in New England. If you go, I would suggest a trip on the Ferry even if you don't go into Salem or perhaps one of the whale watching tours, which were taking place at the same time (whale sightings guaranteed!).

Our first stop in Salem was at the House of Seven Gables. Mom and dad raved about the house, which they had visited on a tour in years previous. I had a special interest in the house because it was the inspiration for a novel by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Although I have never read that particular novel, one of the most inspiring short stories I have ever read was penned by said author. See below for excerpt:

"From the time that his little fingers could grasp a penknife, Owen had been remarkable for a delicate ingenuity, which sometimes produced pretty shapes in wood, principally figures of flowers and birds, and sometimes seemed to aim at the hidden mysteries of mechanism. But it was always for purposes of grace, and never with any mockery of the useful. He did not, like the crowd of school-boy artisans, construct little windmills on the angle of a barn or watermills across the neighboring brook. Those who discovered such peculiarity in the boy as to think it worth their while to observe him closely, sometimes saw reason to suppose that he was attempting to imitate the beautiful movements of Nature as exemplified in the flight of birds or the activity of little animals. It seemed, in fact, a new development of the love of the beautiful, such as might have made him a poet, a painter, or a sculptor, and which was as completely refined from all utilitarian coarseness as it could have been in either of the fine arts. He looked with singular distaste at the stiff and regular processes of ordinary machinery. Being once carried to see a steam-engine, in the expectation that his intuitive comprehension of mechanical principles would be gratified, he turned pale and grew sick, as if something monstrous and unnatural had been presented to him. This horror was partly owing to the size and terrible energy of the iron laborer; for the character of Owen's mind was microscopic, and tended naturally to the minute, in accordance with his diminutive frame and the marvellous smallness and delicate power of his fingers. Not that his sense of beauty was thereby diminished into a sense of prettiness. The beautiful idea has no relation to size, and may be as perfectly developed in a space too minute for any but microscopic investigation as within the ample verge that is measured by the arc of the rainbow. But, at all events, this characteristic minuteness in his objects and accomplishments made the world even more incapable than it might otherwise have been of appreciating Owen Warland's genius. The boy's relatives saw nothing better to be done--as perhaps there was not--than to bind him apprentice to a watchmaker, hoping that his strange ingenuity might thus be regulated and put to utilitarian purposes."

—Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Artist of the Beautiful

And with that novelette in mind, I toured the grounds to where Nathaniel Hawthorne's birth home was transported and immersed my mind into that of the genius who imagined above. The tour guide was especially animated and had a wickedly dry sense of humor. The grounds were plush and bordered the water. On this particular day, you could have sat outside and just enjoyed the people watching and the weather for the better part of the morning.



From the House of Seven Gables, we ate lunch at In a Pig's Eye, which I am determined to say is one of the gems of the town. You can check out Part 2 for a review on that.

The rest of the day was spent walking around Salem in an attempt to gain passage to one of the many tourist spots. We passed by the Witch Museum, the Witch Wax Museum, the Corwin House, and the New England Pirate Museum only to be put off by the lines and long waits. There was a craft fair of sorts taking place throughout the town. We bought a few t-shirts and knick knacks but I have to say that I found only one or two true artisans. Perhaps I didn't look hard enough. Again, we would like to return when there are less crowds so that we can focus on more than the the backends in front of us.

Of interest was the Burying Point, the oldest cemetery in Salem. We had already walked through two cemeteries in Boston but found that the most interesting characters were alive and breathing!



Had it been circa 1992, this kid and his girlfriend would have been wearing flannel and holey jeans. They were two of hundreds dressed up for the occasion.

If you can look past the crowds and really focus on the history and the obvious pride displayed by the townspeople of Salem, it is certainly worth the trip. I'm not sure when the off season occurs but if you're up that way, give it an afternoon.