K is for Killarmy

Has anyone ever tasted aspic?

So we got back from a family trip yesterday afternoon, and boy are my hip flexors tired! Apparently I've lost almost all of my strength in this rather essential muscular group, which includes the iliopsoas and adductor longus muscles. From Wikipedia: Without the iliopsoas muscles, flexion in sitting position is not possible across the horizontal plane. Yeah, and it's really a bitch to walk, too.

Anyway, we had a really fun time, despite my adductor longus issues in the St. Louis airport and associated car rental location. After a grueling drive across Missouri featuring rain squalls of biblical proportions (causing Lee Jr. to shriek uncontrollably for about twenty miles), a slightly scary truck stop where a 5:3 ratio of males to toilets in the restroom was maintained over a 15 minute interval, and a statewide dearth of Smurf Happy Meals at McDonald's, we sputtered over the tire slicers at Avis/Budget (which Jr. hilariously called "Ah-vis Boojit" every damn chance he had) to return our purplish Hyundai. For some mysterious reason, we had to leave our car at the bottom of a long hill at least a football field away from the Avis shuttle bus, forcing us to climb an expanse of hot gravel with all of our luggage and both of our children. Everyone in the family had to piss badly, and nobody seemed to give a shit.

The shuttle bus bounced all over the damn place on the way over to Lambert, making our little 18-month angel cry her eyes out and nearly ejecting Jr.'s "Cars 2" potty seat right out the side of the vehicle. We finally get to the airport, and check our baggage curbside with the custodian from the Spinal Tap Cleveland concert. We had about as much luck as they did finding their way around-- I ended up separated from the rest of my family by a makeshift "under repairs" wall in the terminal and barely found each other. That said, the flight back wasn't too bad.

Here's what I learned from our trip:
1) Portable DVD players save lives.
2) Don't try to squirt allergy medicine down your 3-year old's throat mid-flight... just squeeze it into his drink.
3) Watching dozens of twenty minute chunks of Toy Story, Toy Story 2, and Toy Story 3 is really confusing and doesn't serve the filmmakers' intentions.
4) I honestly don't mind homes with little biblical quotes hanging all over the place, but I just can't seem to find inspiration from them. I was having a bit of a crisis in the bathroom late last night, and could only find something about "thine oxen" on the wall.
5) Always pack extra Prilosec when travelling in the Midwest. Just do it!
6) Airline stewardesses named Blanche may appear kind and helpful, but ultimately should not be trusted.

K,K,K,K... what begins with K? A few of the darker Wu-Tang projects, for starters. I remember listening to the Killah Priest stuff and saying, "This guy definitely has an interesting approach and something to say, but I'm not sure that I'm enjoying myself while listening to his music." My experience with Killarmy was similar, except that I never said anything about it for fear of being murdered. However, I don't need a gun to my head to tell you that the tracks on Silent Weapons (and, to a lesser degree, Dirty Weaponry) are spectacular. As for the rapping, well... I guess it's OK [looking over my shoulder for hidden assassins].

My King Crimson CD collection has been gutted out like a Tanzanian bush pig. Here's the damage: In the Wake of Poseidon, Three of a Perfect Pair (gotta have these); Beat (I'd like it back, but not losing any sleep); Lizard, Islands (good riddance); USA, Earthbound (probably only had on cassette); Young Person's Guide... (definitely never had CD). Everything else is still here. As for the crap after Perfect Pair, I'm waiting for someone to convince me that it's worth a darn (C. Simone?).

I seem to be missing some Kinks records too, but all the ones I love are still around. Life's not worth living without Village Green.

Not much else going on in the K department. Kraftwerk 2 is sehr gut, and solo stuff by KRS-One is interesting only for the production by Primo. Kool G Rap never fails, Kool Moe Dee is good for a few laughs, and Kool Keith slams on Sex Style. I don't know where this Diana Krall CD came from, but it looks like it cost at least $17.

Stupid Subway Tricks

Riding the subway gets pretty boring after 5000+ swipes per year, so why not have some fun while you're at it? Here are some good, clean ways to help pass the time:

1. Stand on the edge of the platform and look frantically down the track for the next train (like everybody else), except look in the wrong direction. It's even funnier when you make exasperated gestures, complain loudly, etc.

2. Blab away on your cell phone in between stations, even though no reception exists at all. Especially nice in tunnels between Manhattan and Brooklyn, or especially long express stretches (59th to 125th on A train).

3. Rehearse dialogue from an imaginary screenplay, loudly and by yourself. The lines should be some combination of absurd, pretentious, offensive, and intermittently en français.

4. Sketch the person sitting across from you, and look as serious as you possibly can. The sketch must never be seen by anyone.

5. Lift extremely light weights repeatedly, or jog in place, or perform some other form of totally lame exercise on the train. Breathe heavily and moan a lot.

6. Work on the NY Times crossword in a very obvious and obnoxious way. Be sure to make annoying comments to yourself, chuckle a lot, and look around the train for approval. This is really funny on Mondays.

7. Scrawl random mathematical calculations on several pieces of paper, with an extremely worried look on your face. Accompany your work with visual measurements of various parts of the subway car (height of doors, people's feet, etc.).

8. Ask the person next to you for directions to part of New York that is absolutely as far as possible from where the train is currently headed. A remote and potentially dangerous location is preferable.



Lemme know how it goes!

The Alaska Diaries, week 10

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries [names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]

WEEK TEN: The Long Way Home

[this is an absolutely true account of one of the great driving feats of all time. almost 5000 miles in six days, including no driving after dark the first three days and a 44-hour straight shot from edmonton to poughkeepsie.]

Monday (day 64)
Not much to say to everyone-- weird. Driving out of the cannery was fucking scary. Van sounds OK though.
Great driving today! At least 600 miles, and can't drive over 60! Made it to the border (Beaver Creek?), parked somewhere, drank some beer, and slept.
[the van's dashboard gauges were incorrect for the entire trip post-engine replacement... we showed about 20% faster than we were actually going, and put on 20% more miles than we actually traveled.]

Tuesday (day 65)
Woke up at sunrise and got the fuck on the road. Great driving again... got past Whitehorse about halfway through the day and stopped a little past Watson Lake (!!!). We waited until dark, drove back towards town, and stole two "ALASKA HIGHWAY" street signs. Totally _______'s idea.
[this was hilarious... "mission impossible"-style.]

Wednesday (day 66)
First order of business was to visit Ralph Grunow at his auto shop. Told him all the stuff he fucked up with the van, including the drive shaft that popped off a few hours after we left. He gave us $40 and sent us on our way. I grabbed _______'s Marquee Moon tape out of their radio in the garage.
I talked to some guy at a gas station about the lake in town where ______ and I tried to wash up on the trip in-- he says, "Oh, you mean Chemical Lake?"
We drive all the way to Dawson Creek-- "mile zero." Three 600-mile days in a row.
[i'm still not sure what to think about the Grunow repairs. the guy did let us sleep in his junkyard for a week! i mean, how could he not rip us off... we were a pretty pathetic sight, I'm sure.]

Thursday (day 67)
We actually eat breakfast in Dawson Creek (sit down and pay for it). We get pulled over right after we leave, but no ticket.

We decide to head straight for Edmonton and then take a break. _____ says the largest mall in the world is in Edmonton, so we go there. We smoke a huge Alaska bud in the parking lot out of a beer can-- smells amazing. Maybe the most stoned I've ever been.
The "mall" is ridiculous: we ride a roller coaster, a "Free Fall" ride, water slides, a wave pool, innertube rides, an aquarium, a submarine ride, check out ice skating, an unbelievable arcade... I even buy a cribbage board. We get high out in the van again, too. CRAZY!!!

We drive out of Edmonton after dark to somewhere called Millet. Totally wasted. Nowhere to park and sleep at all, so we park in what looks like a regular parking lot. Turns out it's a car dealership, and we have to move. We almost get stuck in the mud in another spot, and then we get busted by the cops. We end up driving more and finally find an actual rest area.

Friday (day 68)
We wake up early and realize we have to get home as soon as possible. We drive straight from just outside Edmonton to Poughkeepsie, NY.
THE END.
[i didn't write a whole lot from edmonton to ny... we traded 8-hour shifts back and forth (one sleeping, one driving) the entire way back. i remember drinking TONS of pepsi and mountain dew, and putting a quart of oil in almost every time we stopped. had an amazing listen to eric b & rakim on the radio driving through chicago at night. the only time _____ and i were awake at the same time was near the end of the trip... i remember ranting and raving from the passenger seat that soul II soul were changing the face of music forever, and that we would be seeing rap and r & b coming together for the next twenty years. i was sort of right.
i dropped _____ off in poughkeepsie, and headed straight to vassar college to take a shower in main building. i can't believe no one stopped me-- i looked completely insane.
on my way back to long island, i was pulled over on the hutchinson river pkwy (had to pull over onto the grass) at around 7:00 pm. i had no drivers license or id of any kind, a buck knife hanging on the rear view mirror, beer cans all over the back of the van, weed, and a street sign. i was pulled over because my license plate light was out, which i refused to believe at the time. i wasn't sure if i was being arrested, or just written up for about $1000 worth of tickets, when the cop got called on some kind of emergency. he looked me in the eye and said, "it's your lucky day," and drove off.]

The Alaska Diaries, week 9

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries [names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]

WEEK NINE: Workin' for a livin'

Monday (day 57)
_____ & I drove up to Kenai to get van fixed at Dodge "hospital" (dealer/licensed service station). The place is amazing! Car sounds a lot better.

We work in the afternoon. Play our Nightwatch gig afterwards.

notables:
Fire
Stone Free
Femme Fatale
Wipeout

Swimming naked in river again. Stole lots of stuff from club.
Changed sign out front to "SHITCORNS" and "BAKOMO". _______ pukes. Crazy night-- we stole a bunch of shotglasses and threw them around the van on the way back from the club.

Tuesday (day 58)
We start working at 3pm (still hungover) and finish our shift at 8am the next morning. Long time.

The Japanese cannery guys were doing calisthenics and playing dodgeball in the morning out in the parking lot. One guy had a stopwatch. "Fuckin' A"...

Wednesday (day 59)
Thursday (day 60)
Friday (day 61)
Saturday (day 62)
Sunday (day 63)
Worked double shifts every day except one single shift day. Got too stoned one of the days and drove the fork lift into the back of the freezer truck, forks up. Also worked in the freezer room in shorts. The regular freezer room guys were taking acid in there sometimes.

Looks like we're leaving tomorrow. ______ has to be back in NY in ten days to fly to South Africa. We're driving the equipment back ourselves-- no one else wants to go back in the van. Two of us the whole way...

week ten: the long way home

 

 

SYR to LGA (live in-progress)

I know "holiday delays at the airport" stories are a dime a dozen, but...

HANCOCK INT'L AIRPORT, SYRACUSE
December 23, 2009
8:34am - Reported to my gate exactly 30 minutes before scheduled departure. There are no US Air employees anywhere. Screen says "ON TIME".

8:39 - A few other passengers around. Doesn't look good.

8:42 - There are two separate groups flying with dogs on my flight. Each group is headed by an obese older woman with polyester pants. I'm still not sure if the groups are related. The dogs in each group are yelping like the dickens.

8:46 - A smart looking girl just announced from her Blackberry that our flight's delayed at least an hour and a half. An idiot responded, "What does that mean?!"

8:50 - One of the dogs just escaped from its bag. One of the fat ladies chased after it, but the dog's leash got wrapped around one of the other dogs. Complete bedlam... I feel like I'm living inside a P.D.Eastman boardbook.

8:57 - U.S. Air crew finally showed up. The guy's announcing the delays over the intercom while fat dog lady #2 screams into her cell phone that she doesn't know when the flight's leaving.

9:08 - We might be the only gate with a flight in the entire wing-- there's nobody here. At least there's some sort of bonding thing when you're delayed among throngs of desperate holiday travelers; we're feeling like a bunch of losers here.

9:23 - I think I have a BabyRuth candy bar somewhere. Our food options are terrible: an Au Bon Pain with fossilized pastries and a vending machine. Maybe the bar will open soon.

9:27 - Hey, a flight just arrived at our gate! A fantastically gay-looking guy just strutted in from the walkway with rainbow-striped boots and a white puffy hat. Thank god... that's the first evidence of civilization since I flew out of LGA Tuesday morning.

9:31 - Hmm, that doesn't seem to be our plane. Then whose is it? Philadelphia?! We've been lapped by the next scheduled departure from our gate.

9:33 - Awesome! They just paged "Heinie Webb" on the intercom and the girl next to me got up and walked over to the desk! OK, maybe it was "Heidi Webb".

9:38 - Wow, the Blackberry girl is sitting and chatting with fat dog lady #1. I must be a complete prick bastard... I wouldn't talk to any of these people for all the tea in China. I mean, a crazy lady with a dog? She'll never be able to shake her off! Ever!

9:43 - At least I got to watch Sex Rehab last night before I went to bed. Phil Varone looked like he might literally explode if he didn't get some action ASAP. Then he pretty much came out and said, "I'm gonna lose it if I don't jerk off or at least spoon with someone" or something to that effect. An utterly compelling character.

FUCK! The damn airport just cut off my signal mid-post... lost some funny shit about driving on cough syrup and killing dogs. I'm quitting.

...and I'm back with live shit mid-air:
10:48 – Finally getting on the damn plane. Into the tunnel, down the stairs and out into the snow. Propeller plane in a snowstorm. Not sure if we’re flying to LaGuardia or Everest base camp.

10:52 – Might be Everest base camp after all… a family of small Indians are climbing around the seats of the tiny plane as I board. The stewardess is chasing two little kids around, yelling “No! No! Sit!” The mom and dad are equally as clueless, squinting at their boarding stubs muttering “D? F? 2?” Totally weird.

10:54 – Next wave of passengers is a quartet of Asian men in sweatsuit pants. None speak English but all are wearing headphones.

10:56 – The stewardess has the tricky job of communicating that we should really be sitting in our seats but since the plane isn’t even half-full you can actually sit wherever you want. None of the passengers except myself and two women seem to understand this subtlety.

11:05 – Out on the runway, props spinning, plane humming, KAPUT. We’re grounded for at least 15 minutes, minimum.

11:07 – Stewardess comes around for another round of admonishings: “No! No! No music! Sit!”

11:10 (estimate) – I think we’re taking off now…

11:32 – No snacks.

11:41 – “No! No cameras! No!”

11:42 – As I look out over the majesty of the Himalaya and the Annapurna massif, my mind wanders… nope, looks like either Scranton or White Plains.

11:50 – If this plane crashes, it would make a lousy movie.

The Alaska Diaries, week 8

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries [names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]

WEEK EIGHT: Tequila hijinks, hitchin'

Monday (day 50)
Blew off work again.
Me, ________, and _______ buy a bottle of tequila instead. We get completely wasted before gig. The Nightwatch hates us.

Notables:
Tougher Than the Rest
Stone Free w/drums [I assume this means that I didn't play drums?]

We jump in the Kenai River after the gig. Great listen to Soul II Soul in van on way home.  _______ and _______ wrestle in the back of the van and in the dirt at the cannery.

Tuesday (day 51)
Packed freezer trucks for work.
Had beers after work and drank bottle of tequila again. I passed out early. _____ pees in the attic of the cannery. We eat a lot, drunk.

Wednesday (day 52)
Packing for work.
Tequila AGAIN!!! i don't remember much...

Thursday (day 53)
No work today. Got our paychecks-- they suck!!!
I got dicked out of most of my pay, and so did ______.
______ and ______ go down to Homer. We drive van to Kenai to get bulk food and Jack Daniels. No water at all for the night.

Friday (day 54)
No water again at all anywhere! Can't shit or shower.
We hitched to the Nightwatch in Soldotna. Saw Kaboom play their set-- made fun of them.
We put pitchers of beer on our tab for the next gig. Changed the big sign in front of the club to "49% WOLF" and "BAKOOM." We hitch home wasted.

Saturday (day 55)
Worked in the morning with ______.
We hitched to Anchorage, which was fucking far. We played pool at Chilkoot's and walked around town drinking 40s. ______ and ______ told some creepy stories.
We're all completely bombed. I puked my guts out, then we ended up with some guys doing coke. We slept in a Wonder Bread truck AGAIN! We tried to warm up at a laundromat and ________ pissed his pants. Finally we go to Denny's and sleep on a lawn in front of the restaurant. The grass was fucking beautiful.

Sunday (day 56)
We wake up in front of Denny's in the grass. We split up somehow-- ______ and I end up walking over to a mall. We found Robber Joe's record store, which is awesome. I bought Mudhoney, a Defunkt CD, and a PE single. _______ bought a record by Can and maybe Big Star.
We hitch home, which is totally beautiful. Also get sore asses from all the walking and steal Prep H from the supermarket in Soldotna. Me and ______ drink a bottle of tequila right by the river behind the Nightwatch, and are totally drunk just in time to load in and play.
I play drums completely shitfaced-- awful.

Notables:
My Sharona
Tougher Than the Rest

I jumped in the river again naked and lost my fucking wallet with ID, credit card and at least $100. I pass out in the van totally depressed. Feeling out of control.


week nine: the hours finally come through

The Alaska Diaries, week 7

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries [names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]
WEEK SEVEN: Visiting the family, stoned agin...


Monday (day 43)
Blew off work. Slept until fucking 5:00.

Played at Nightwatch. The club is under new ownership.

Notable songs:
After Midnight
The Ocean
There She Goes Again
Foxey Lady

Way too fucking stoned... I wore a trash bag as my stage get-up. Sang "Lay Down Sally" upside-down standing on my head.

Deguello rules!

Tuesday (day 44)
Wednesday (day 45)
Thursday (day 46)
Ridiculously stoned every night this week. Played bridge and cribbage and that's about it.

Friday (day 47)
Finally worked this morning. We drove to Kenai-- got kicked out of "The Place."

Me, ______, and ______ drove to my Uncle Howard's place right there in Kenai. Me and ______ ate stew with his family for dinner while ______ was passed out in the back of the van. Howard was cool to us... he looks like my grandfather.

We left and bought a case of beer and a bottle of Bacardi 151. Flaming shots all night (almost burned my beard)! ______ puked. Crazy night.

Saturday (day 48)
Worked a lot-- packing freezer truck.

Sunday (day 49)
Worked full day and played our Nightwatch gig.
The gigs are getting weirder/worse.

Notable songs:
You May Be Right
Stone Free (w/wah-wah)
Suzie Q. (upside-down vocals again)
_______'s new song
I Can See Clearly Now
________ is completely wasted. ______ makes out with some chick.


week eight: tequila marathons, hitchhiking

 

The Alaska Diaries, week 6

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries
[names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]


WEEK SIX: Wiffleball and cribbage

Monday (day 36)
Worked! Welded...

We play at the dock in front of Trans-Aqua:
Wild Thing
Crazy Train

Then we played that night at the Nightwatch:
After Midnight (beer commercial version)
Old Man
Long Haired Country Boy
Piano Man
Light My Fire
Horse... (no idea what this is)
For What It's Worth
U2 (?)
Crazy Love
Higher Ground

The bartender sings a song with us. The "Into the Music" chick hangs out with us. _________ is totally wasted and pukes. I get drunk and call _______.

Tuesday (day 37)
Short day of work.
______ and I go to a local bar that has cribbage night (contest). Totally out of our league. They play without even looking at their cards at all.

Wednesday (day 38)
Medium day of work.

Thursday (day 39)
Really long day of work. Played wiffleball outside the huts.

Friday (day 40)
More welding. Made some sort of fish chute.
Keg of beer! Lots of cribbage.

Saturday (day 41)
Short work in the morning. Went to do laundry out by Kenai. Stood around in my one pair of underwear.

Gig at The Place? Cancelled.

1st night of packing frozen fish! Totally great. Went to Pizza Hut afterwards. Nobody tipped so I had to go back in and leave money.

Sunday (day 42)
Full day of work.

We head down to Nightwatch. Car is shaky.
Sabrina gets kicked out of the club. Angela told on her! (no idea)

Notable songs:
Pale Blue Eyes
songs with full backing vocals (we took their mics)
Drivin' South/Magic Johnson
Can't Get What You Want... (Joe Jackson)
Billy Joel (?) just _____
Crazy Love also just _____

I drank Robitussin again and smoked pot this time too. TOTALLY fucked up all night. I blabbed on and on to ________ all night.

week seven: visiting my great uncle, getting too stoned too often

The Alaska Diaries, week 5

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries
[names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]


WEEK FIVE: Working for a living

Monday (day 29)
First real day of work. I loaded bags of salt.

We went shopping for food. Hung out in the huts after "dinner"... talked about smoking mugwort and taking belladonna with a weird guy.

Tuesday (day 30)
Second day of work. Loaded more salt and cleaned some walls.

We played in one of the trailers tonight:
Wild Night
I Wish
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Firefly
Roadhouse Blues
A-Jam
Brown Eyed Girl
L.A. Woman
Proud Mary
Pale Blue Eyes
Needle and the Damage Done
Higher Ground
Foxey Lady
Voodoo Chile
Lemon Song
Can You See Me?
Paranoid
There She Goes Again
Stormy Monday
Further On Up the Road
Sunshine of Your Love
Manic Depression

Some guy played acoustic too. "Jimbo" & ______ squared off. I broke the ride cymbal. ________ is a sick bass player.

Wednesday (day 31)
We painted. ___________ got a complaint on the job.

Our Land's End gig is cancelled.

Thursday (day 32)
Celebrated Summer Solstice at a cool place called "The Crotch." Rasta camp? ________ crashes.

Friday (day 33)
Regular day of work. We go to a bar called "The Place" afterwards. Good jukebox and bar shuffleboard. Free tacos!

Saturday (day 34)
We go back to "The Place" again. Free BBQ! Undefeated in shuffleboard! I piss off people when I play "Venus in Furs" on the jukebox.

Sunday (day 35)
I'm promoted to "Assistant Welder" for $12 an hour.

We play at Nightwatch -- great show. _______ gets totally wasted.

Notable songs:
Stone Free
Bad Case of Loving You
Blues (with new guy)

The new guy Ryan is a great singer and guitar player. I'm exhausted.


week six: wiffleball and cribbage

The Alaska Diaries, week 4

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries
[names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]


WEEK FOUR: Arrival at the Cannery

Monday (day 22)
We plan to leave around 9am--NOPE! Van won't start.
We have to get car towed to Tok, Alaska. They work on the van for a while, costs $80. We drive van back to pick up the rest of the guys and things seem fine.

We turn the car off, and it won't start up again. _______ has to get ride from crazy looking guy back to Tok, and comes back with the mechanic. He starts the car, but we need a new starter.

He puts in the new part while we go buy MUCH beer and a Penthouse. We get totally wasted on 16 oz. Hamm's and hang out at the garage. The guys at the garage give us salmon to cook. Car runs, but doesn't have much power. _____ drives it to the nearest campsite. I pass out drunk and miss the salmon dinner.

Tuesday (day 23)
I start off with a good shower. We leave the campsite.

Still no power driving up hills. ______ & _______ actually have to get out of the van right on the highway and push while we go up a steep hill.

We finally make it to Anchorage. Van is terrible! _______ gets an AmEx advance on his card and we eat at "Eatery." We literally roll the car into Firestone (right as we tried to leave the city).

We leave the van at Firestone and get a ride in the back of a pickup truck with a totally hot girl to Chilkoot Charlie's. We play pool and drink whatever beer we can afford. I get wasted and call ______.

The bar is huge and totally unreal. We see two bands playing at the same time in different parts of the club-- "Kaboom" and "Fear of Flying"... Fear of Flying performs completely insane covers of "Mr. Roboto" (with costumes), Journey, Pink Floyd, ZZ Top, Genesis and "Cars" by Gary Numan. Great place.

We stumble out of the place and sleep in the back of a Wonder Bread truck parked nearby. Freezing cold!!! The rest of the guys get high and sleep at a church, get busted, and walk around forever.

Wednesday (day 24)
We wake up in bread truck. Buy coffee and rolls at 7-11.

We see the rest of the guys back at Firestone. They all fell asleep in the showroom while me and _____ walked around. We got _____ and went to Denny's across the street for hours. Then we went back to Firestone to sleep some more (______ slept in the tires display).

The van was fixed by noon, but I wasn't approved for a Firestone credit card. The bill is $412! The car still doesn't have a lot of power - lots of trouble on hills.

We got to the Trans-Aqua processing plant in Kasilof today. Nice place! We apply for jobs & hang out with a bunch of people. Took a nap. We ate lots of food and drink lots of beer.

Thursday (day 25)
We get up early and drive to Soldotna for our audition at the Nightwatch. The car needs to be jumped.

We play "Mary Had a Little Lamb", "Sneakin' Sally...", "Lay Down Sally", "Roadhouse Blues", "Drivin' South" and "Firefly". _____'s bass breaks during the set. We get the gig! Half-price food and free beer.

The Nightwatch guy (Ira) gets us completely stoned. HIGH! We drive down to Homer to find more clubs. We eat raw Ramen noodles in the van. We stop at a gas station and _______ buys everyone two candy bars each.

I sleep. And sleep. ________ snores really fucking loud. Everyone sleeps.

Friday (day 26)
I wake up late. Clean out the van... it won't start again.

______ is already working here at the plant. We sit around and play pitch.

Trans-Aqua has an opening season party tonight. The party is nuts! Huge spread of food and beer. ______ gets totally wasted immediately, and so does everyone else. _______ kicks a chicken across the floor and gets yelled at.

We set up the equipment and play:
"A" Jam
Sneakin' Sally
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Dead Flowers
L.A. Woman
Roadhouse Blues
Heard It Through the Grapevine
Suzie Q
Lay Down Sally
Cocaine
American Woman
Voodoo Chile
Stone Free
Good Times Bad Times
Shotgun Blues
Long Train Runnin'
Brown Eyed Girl
Blues (?)
The Lemon Song
Drivin' South

We're billed as "Pro Motorcycle"... the drums completely fall apart during the set. ________ makes out with some chick at the party. Our boss hooks up too.

A guy named Marty sings "Purple Halibut" and other weird songs. He also calls _______ a "dildo" at the party.

We get crazy high and ________ sprays a fire extinguisher everywhere.

Saturday (day 27)
I missed work. ________ bikes to town (on what bike?).

It's cold and rainy today. We play pitch and get high.

Later we drive down to Homer. We eat pizza (lots of it!).

We audition at the "Land's End" club.

We played:
Gimme Three Steps
Sneakin' Sally
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Dead Flowers
Firefly
Roadhouse Blues
Lay Down Sally
"A" Jam
Brown Eyed Girl

We got the gig! $300+ on Thursday nights. I slept in the van the whole way home.

Sunday (day 28)
Father's Day. I slept late! Played cribbage.

Tonight we play our first gig at the Nightwatch for $200. We eat lots of half-price food.

SET LIST:
Stone Free
Sneakin' Sally
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Dead Flowers
Firefly
Wild Night
Roadhouse Blues
Lay Down Sally
"A" Jam
Brown Eyed Girl
L.A. Woman
Heard It Through the Grapevine
Proud Mary
Fortunate Son
Bad Moon Rising
Funk You
Shotgun Blues
Pale Blue Eyes
Needle and the Damage Done
Ohio
Can't Help Falling in Love
Drivin' South
Honky Tonk Women
Further On Up the Road
Long Train Runnin'
Bad Case of Loving You
I Wish
American Woman

WASTED! Me, ________, and _______ get kicked out of the club. "Isis" is kinda hot.

We all rolled around in the back of the van on the way home (dangerous!). _______ pukes back at the cannery, and _______ falls over.

The Alaska Diaries, week 3

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries
[names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]


WEEK THREE: The Watson Lake junkyard

Monday (day 15)
Cost estimated at $1800 to $2000 to fix van. Will take 3-4 days.
We go to library, take nap, play more pitch.
________ calls - they're coming back to get us (?).
We eat kidney beans with honey & mustard.

Tuesday (day 16)
More Watson Lake...

Wake up late. Steal 5-Alive from gas station.
We finally play bridge. Visited the "signs" park down the road by people on Al-Can.
We eat split pea & ham soup and play more bridge. Raining! Tent gets wet.
_________ steals tobacco from gas station.
We have to get the hell out of here...

Wednesday (day 17)
More Watson Lake...

Wake up earlier today. We haven't showered in a while.

________ and I jump in the filthy muddy lake. Bugs everywhere.

________ and _______ call. Plan is to meet them in Whitehorse.

I tried to steal fries from someone's plate at the diner. We played a lot of bridge. Stole license plates.

Thursday (day 18)
We may leave today!!! The drive shaft needs to be fixed too.

We didn't leave today. More bridge in tent.

I called _______ and my Mom at home. I got a 3.4 for the semester!

We're leaving tomorrow!!! We eat mac & cheese. Our fifth night in the junkyard.

Friday (day 19)
We are leaving soon.
We took down the tent and cleaned up the area this morning.

After many hassles (flames coming from exhaust pipe, lady tells us story about car exploding, other problems...) we finally left Watson Lake.

After a couple of hours, the drive shaft falls off going 60 on the Al-Can.

We end up in Swift River, and meet some really nice guys. We need a U-joint for the van, which is being shipped in from Whitehorse. We set up our tent in front of the gas station.

Saturday (day 20)
Shower!
4:00 - our part should come in.

The wrong part comes in... but we still make it back on the road!

We're now in Whitehorse with _______, _________, and _________.
_________ just got his haircut.
I feel much better.

Sunday (day 21)
We have to jump the van twice before we leave Whitehorse.
No hassles at the border.

We camp only 300 miles from Anchorage. Eagle Lake/River?

I drank a bottle of Robitussin that was in the van. NUTS! Listened to AC/DC on headphones and played bridge in the tent. "The Larvas!"



week four: arrival at the cannery

The Alaska Diaries, week 2 (part II)

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries
[names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]


WEEK TWO (part II)

Friday (day 12)
Shower! We eat at J.J.'s. We're playing tonight again.

Things are still really weird here. They make us learn tunes from cassette by Trooper and the Kentucky Headhunters, like "Girl Don't Know," "Working Like a Dog" and "Dumas Walker." Dumas has hilarious lines like "We'll get a slawburger, fries, and a bottle of 'ski," and "he takes his orders down one at a time; he don't need a pen, he's got a photogenic mind." I sang "Girl Don't Know."

SET LIST:
Jam
Hey Joe
Sneakin' Sally (country style)
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Gimme Three Steps
"Lonesome" Blues
Honky Tonk Women
Brown Sugar
Dead Flowers
L.A. Woman
Roadhouse Blues
Break On Through
Little Wing
Higher Ground (remix)
Further On Up the Road
Dumas Walker
Girl Don't Know
Proud Mary
Bad Moon Rising
Heard It Thru the Grapevine
Suzie Q
Fortunate Son
Lay Down Sally
Cocaine
Sunshine of Your Love
Bad Case of Loving You
There She Goes Again
Firefly
American Woman
Ohio

_________ almost gets in a fight with a guy who claimed to be a Cree Indian. Some other crazy guy named "The Chief." We scored hash and smoked it out of a beer can. __________ got nickname "Death Row." [I have no idea what that was about]

The club refuses to pay us our $200 because of our huge bar tab. We settle for $100 and take off.

Saturday (day 13)
We all woke up late. Another shower. _________ drives and gets a ticket for going 102 in an 80. We stay at Iron Creek & smoke lots of hash.

Sunday (day 14)
SHIT HAPPENS! Van breaks down on road while listening to Marquee Moon. The transmission and engine are completely blown. Sounded like death.

We hitch a little bit down the highway, and get van towed to Watson Lake. ______ & _________ take off for Skagway in a mobile home for Skagway, leaving the four of us stranded in Yukon. We smoke hash, have rock-throwing contests and play pitch (card game).

We live in a fucking junkyard.

We make a pasta dinner.

week three: surviving on porn & beans in a tent

The Alaska Diaries, week 2 (part I)

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries
[names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]

WEEK TWO (part I)

Monday (day 8)
We left the Tetons today. It smells awful in the van.

Made our stop for the night in Polson, Montana. The place is called the Rocking C Ranch.

_______ is elected to talk the campsite into letting us play music at their bar for the night. He tells the guy the name of our band is "The Tommyknockers" or maybe "Tommy Knockers." We're warned "none of that acid rock shit" by the bartender.

SET LIST:
Sneakin' Sally / Opening Jam
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Little Wing
Hey Joe
Suzie Q
Lay Down Sally (sung as "Lay Down ______")
Firefly
Can't Help Falling in Love
Firefly (acoustic)
Gimme Three Steps
Red House
Drivin' South

We ate a whole giant jar of beef jerky at the bar. _______ gags and almost throws up outside. My earring rips out of my ear while wrestling out in the grass. We took real showers.

Tuesday (day 9)
We enter Canada. It sucks! We're hassled big time at Customs. _____'s pipe gets taken by officers, and ______ is questioned for half hour about a DWI on his record.

We stay at the WASA Provinical Park in British Columbia, which sucks. It rains the whole time. Me and ______ walk over to bar and buy fries and onion rings. We buy a "case" of beer, which is only 12 beers in Canada and still costs $20. We're bummin'.

Wednesday (day 10)
Woke up soaking fucking wet. Exchange money, and check out Banff Park.

"2 for 1" pizza deal in Prince George totally sucks. Prince George is weird-- we met a guy who's headed up to Alaska too, who tells us we'll never make it across Alaska Highway in our van with our tires.

We camp at Hart Highway park and sleep in the van.

Thursday (day 11)
Shower. Shitty gravel road. I saw a black bear. We find out the Al-Can is flooded out and closed.

We pull into Dawson Creek to get more info on the Highway. There's a huge parade in Dawson Creek-- it's "Mile '0' Day." We finally get in touch with ______, who we're picking up in Skagway. He has $10.

We're stuck in town for the night, so we look for a gig. The first place we ask lets us play! This time ________ does the talking.

The place is called the Trucker's Saloon. Rocky is running the place. Here's our deal: we're booked for two nights, we get three hotel rooms with showers, and free Molson on tap for both nights. We're also paid $200. INCREDIBLE!

We just fucking set up and play. It's a cowboy-type place.

SET LIST (not in order):
Jam (x2)
Hey Joe
Sneakin' Sally
Shotgun Blues
Highway Chile
Mary Had a Little Lamb
Suzie Q (x2)
Lay Down Sally
The Ocean
Gimme Three Steps
Fortunate Son (x2)
Honky Tonk Women
Brown Sugar
L.A. Woman
Roadhouse Blues
Break on Through
Little Wing
Stone Free
Higher Ground (remix)
Funk You
Tush / Further On Up the Road
Sunshine of Your Love
"A" Jam w/guy on harmonica
Red House
Ohio
Long Train Runnin'

Lots of characters at bar: Lonnie from Detroit, "Judy" dancing drunk with ______, and ________ is completely shitfaced. Judy keeps yelling "Go for broke, you brats!" Some guy is selling ice (the drug)-- we try to avoid. The drums are completely falling apart. Rocky's girlfriend is HOT. Everybody is drunk.

Things are really weird- Dawson Creek is a fucked-up place.

week two, part II: the gig continues!

The Alaska Diaries, week 1

Six of my friends and I got in a van one morning and drove 4500 miles from Poughkeepsie to Kasilof, Alaska. Most of our friends are sick to fucking death of hearing about it, and most of us that went on the trip don't even talk about it much. In one of my brighter moves, I kept a detailed journal of our epic adventure.

Last week I decided to dig out the diary and pimp it out as a series of entries for Lee's Steez. I read about three pages and threw the idea out the window. Something about today made me think about it again, so here goes nothing...

Pukers Die!!! The Alaska Diaries
[names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent]

WEEK ONE

Monday (day 1)
(Harrison Lake campgrounds)

Tuesday (day 2)
Second day of trip.
This book was stolen today. It's getting very hot and _____'s feet smell awful. Last night we played hacky-sack. We went through Chicago today. Visited Field of Dreams.
Stayed at Beed's Lake camping grounds, complete with man-made waterfall.

TRIP SHAKESPEARE!

Wednesday (day 3)
Bought fireworks.
BADLANDS- S. Dakota... INCREDIBLE! Me & _____ got pretty fucking lost; scared. ______ finds his fossil teeth. We play guitar and sing. Good rock climbing. Stayed in Custer State Park (?).
I miss ________ & _______.
Great shower. I SMELL!

Thursday (day 4)
Found more rocks. Climbed in Keyhole State Park.

Friday (day 5)
Continental Divide. SNOW! Mostly just driving.
1st day in Tetons. Got shitfaced on Jim Beam.

Saturday (day 6)
Climbed mountain in Tetons- probably not allowed to just walk up there. Jumped in freezing cold fucking lake in park.
Drove in to town-- listened to Tonight's the Night. Drank lots of Schmidt beer. _________ pierced my ear with a stud and a potato. Drank tons of Rainier beer. _________ walked across campfire in bare feet.

Sunday (day 7)
11-mile hike. Drank more Rainier and Busch beer.


next week: our first gig!

"The wheels on the bus go... BLEECCCCHHH!!!"

Our trip down South in July pretty much obliterated any talk of further vacations this summer. Not that it wasn't fun (it was!), but it was just, um... exhausting.

One would think that a jaunt out to Long Island to see the folks would be peanuts compared to our Memphis trip, right? Hardly a "vacation" and barely even a "trip."

Let's analyze this one the way they do with other disasters, like Three Mile Island or Chernobyl:

1) I didn't pack flip-flops or sunscreen. In fact, I didn't even pack socks or an extra t-shirt. You could say that I didn't bother to pack at all.
2) I forgot it was Wednesday, which means there are no alternate side parking restrictions on our block. This is bad, because I timed the trip to take advantage of late morning spots right before street cleaning.
3) The Mz. took the boy up to Starbucks right before we left, causing him to become sweaty and irritable, or "hot and bothered."

4) The ZipCar we rented was littered with old snacks.
5) Totally unconfirmed, but it's possible that I fed Jr. expired yogurt that morning. I don't think so, but it's possible.
6) Since I was double parked, the Mz. & boy had to watch the car (they really fucking ticket on our block) while I sherpa'ed our gear out.
7) I hadn't even touched the new car seat since Memphis, so it still fit the boy as poorly as it did then; probably worse.
8) It was about 145 degrees outside.
9) I put the seat in behind the passenger side, instead of the driver side. This meant that Jr. caught the sun right in the face the entire trip.

OK, not exactly a perfect storm, but I'm just trying to understand what exactly happened here. Nothing out of the ordinary to start with... we wrestled and stuffed Jr. into the car seat and drove away. He didn't seem real happy, but who could blame the kid? He basically bitched and moaned from Harlem to the Northern State.

Musta been around exit 38 when Jr. started puking his fucking guts out. This kid hasn't really puked since his onesie days, so it was a bit startling. As we all know, babies "spit up," which is absolutely no big deal at all and not much different than dabbing up spilled salad dressing at the steak house. I am in no way averse to cleaning up my son's spit-up.

This was a completely different thing-- "big boy throw-up" you might call it. I call it "your asshole friend from college blew chunks all over my fucking back seat." I almost thought I could smell buffalo wings and Bacardi, but that's obviously impossible. The shit was everywhere, and it smelled like death itself.

Of course the kid's bawling his eyes out, and Mz. is scrambling for anything absorbent. I was busy making mistake #10:
10) I got off the Parkway and made a beeline for a stretch of road with unspeakable traffic and nowhere to turn off whatsoever (Jericho Tpk next to the Oyster Bay Golf Course).

After sitting in dead-stop traffic for the temporal equivalent of seventeen panic attacks, we balied out and turned off into a very rich and very private little cul-de-sac. We set up a mini-camp on somebody's exquisite side-lawn and stripped the boy down. I was on "brain detail," sopping up puke particles off the car seat and elsewhere. When the dust settled we had a reasonably clean kid, a backseat that stunk to Gehenna itself, and a huge pile of baby wipes on somebody's perfect lawn. I snuck around the side and dumped it in what was seriously the cleanest, nicest garbage can I've ever seen.

The car seat was unusable at this point, so Mz. held the kid in her lap as I slalomed down Jericho and tried to remember all (or any) of the good shortcuts we used to take when we drove drunk in high school. I stuck with the one easy one and got us home in reasonable time. We pulled in to my folks' place late for lunch and smelling like puke (also like high school). Our Pulp Fiction tribute continued as we hosed off and made wisecracks for a while.

The rest of our visit (which was really the visit, since all the sicko shit happened before we even got there) was pretty uneventful, highlighted by tasty porkchops and a late-night snoozer of a Yankee game. The boy walked right into the side of our car door (perpendicularly), putting a dent right down the middle of his face. He also pitched a fairly violent fit when we tried to drive him over to Sunken Meadow park this morning, which I completely understood. Continuing with the "drunk college friend" analogy, putting that kid back in his pukey car seat would be like making the fictional puker a Tabasco & 151 omelet for breakfast the next morning. We were lucky to get him home at all today, especially when you throw in a mandatory Ikea stop mid-voyage.

I'm supposed to take Jr. to next weekend's game for Calculator Day, although I'm having second thoughts. Maybe September's Soup Bowl Night will be a better fit.

South in Ya Mouth (part 3)

We spent the last few days of our vacation with our dear friends JC & KB (and my new buddy Charlie!) on the outskirts of Memphis. They got a pretty cool living situation down there: a little gated community (I incorrectly referred to it as a "hamlet") with a nice pool and a BBQable deck. Plus every store and food option under the sun within a song's drive. We had a great time. Oh yeah, big thanks for the bag of pretzel nuggets and awesome cookies, which were all eaten.

My bug bite problems continued, however. Driving over to Corky's BBQ I was cluster stung by mosquitoes (or maybe a single mosquito?) on my left and right knees. I also discovered a double bite on my left wrist, which looks a lot like some of the "fang" style spider bites I read about on line. I really don't think I was bit by a black widow spider, but if you don't see any posts for two weeks, you might want to look into my situation.

We were ready to leave this morning by 6:00 to catch our 8:24 departure for LGA. Too bad we were in the middle of an insane electrical storm. Like, Donna fucking Deluge level. We said fuckit and jumped into the car at exactly 6:30am. LJ got about 40% soaked in our five-second dash to the car, Mz about 70%, and I weighed in at around 95%. We were ready to come home.

The drive to the airport was harrowing. I clutched the wheel white-knuckle style and stared out the windshield like Ray Liotta in Goodfellas. It didn't help that every damn road was called Walnut Hill or Walnut Shrove or Walnut whatever (I muttered "walnut brains" as we drove off at 6:31). We missed the turn-off for rental returns, as I'm sure thousands before us have, and pulled in to Avis relatively on time. We had some help moving our shit into the shuttle bus and shuttled away.

We got to Memphis Int'l in a full-on downpour. Mz handled LJ as I "handled" our bags and his enormous carseat. The driver grabbed a few of our things and put them near a wall where they'd be "drier". Drier than what? Underwater? I dragged three soaked bags, a plastic suitcase, a chair and my own sorry ass into the airport.

My socks and sneakers were completely soaked, and I was freezing my ass off. We got on line for the dumb-ass kiosks and got checked in, avoiding small talk with an idiot on line behind us ("you guys got wet, huh?") All told, we made it on the plane OK.

Our luck was about to change for the better. We sat in the front row of the regular class (bulkhead?) with lots of room in front of us. The seat next to us was a no-show, so we had plenty of room for LJ to cavort and wiggle around. Mz actually got to sneak in a rare nap while me and the boy watched a Thomas the Tank Engine DVD on our laptop (with George Carlin narrating!). It was the best flight we ever had with Jr, even though we were starving and freezing our shunts off. The guy in first class in front of us said he was the best behaved kid he'd ever seen on a plane. I thanked him and got as far away from the guy as possible.

Pretty smooth getting back from LGA too. A fair-to-middling cab driver (one of those 126th St types) did a fair-to-middling job and we made it home in one piece. My wife whisked the boy to safety as I dealt with the family of luggage one last time. He got a fair-to-middling tip.

I humped the shit up to the apartment and walked right into a horrified looking Mz outside the elevator. I feared the worst-- did water leak in through the A/C and destroy my Bronx is Burning DVD box set?

"There are swarms of giant flies in the living room," my wife reported. "They might be in some other rooms, too."

I secretly chuckled. This is the kind of "problem" we love to face coming home from vacation. I grabbed a couple of junk-zines from the mail pile and asked, "Is that it?" out of the side of my mouth (I would shriek in terror about 10 minutes later when I discovered we were out of Diet Mountain Dew, but at this point I was feeling pretty solid).

Maybe I was still creeped out by my bug troubles down south, but I had a rougher time with these giant flies than I'd like to admit. I quickly killed about three with a Crate & Barrel catalog, and then realized that opening the living room window might be a better, kinder solution. I opened the window and was promptly met with a gust of sand-wind in the face. They're blasting the facade next door! That's what those guys are doing out there!

I left a few fly corpses out on the floor (these things are seriously fucking big!) to serve as warnings to the rest of the offenders. I would've mounted their heads on toothpicks and arranged them on the couch, but I just didn't have that kind of energy. Plus, the survivors seemed emboldened by the deaths of their comrades and were re-organizing in the kitchen. Pretty soon I was hacking away like a crazed lunatic, swinging at anything that moved. The bloodlust was so overpowering that I took a swat at an innocent USB flash drive on my desk and nearly fainted. Check out the bloodstained circular flyer pictured at right.

I bailed out and settled on the "trap them between the outside and inside windows and let them fly around for two days until they die" strategy that we usually reserve for more dangerous critters like wasps and hungover house guests. I knew we should've kept those darn cats of ours.

South in Ya Mouth (part 2)

We got out of Memphis as early as humanly possible-- about 9AM Central time. I had a rough idea of how to get to Springfield, MO (40 to something to something...) but no functional map. Since Mz. was keeping Jr. occupied and out of trouble, I only had a semi-functional navigator.

I missed my very first exit off of 40 about 20 minutes into the trip. Not a big deal, but missing the first exit always seems to cast a pall on a road trip. There were McD-style stops at every exit, so I wasn't real worried about finding a good place to make our first stop.

We didn't see a whole lot for quite a while. The speed limit kept getting lower, and so did the quality of our roadside options. When you're travelling with a toddler, shit like "Jimbo's Good Eats" just doesn't have the same appeal as it might on other road trips. We wanted cookie-cutter corporate chain stops with paved parking lots, diaper decks and whole fucking milk.

We began seeing little town signs with even littler populations (<1000).>

- a large sign with a grotesque caricature of President Obama in a turban, titled "Barack HUSSEIN Obama", followed by a list of things we can expect more of (abortion, same-sex marriages, gun control, taxes). [does anyone really think that gay marriage could possibly be correlated with a rise in abortions?]
- a store called "Lazy Lee's" featuring a Subway counter and at least 15 men smoking their brains out while eating $5 foot-longs. I had to whisk Jr out of there after about 4 seconds.
- a gas station called "Rebel Gas" completely covered with confederate flags and horrifying slogans.

I took an uncalculated risk and decided to boycott Rebel Gas, even though we had about 1/16 of a tank left (if you know me, you know I never go below even a quarter tank). As I proclaimed my refusal, my wife darted into Rebel Gas to buy milk for the boy. Dozens of nightmarish visions flew through my mind, some involving white hoods and others involving my Giants tee I was unfortunately wearing. I didn't even snap a picture of the insane storefront for fear of lynching, and tried not to spin my tires on the gravel as we fled.

Things started getting better real soon. We hit roads called Bill Virdon Blvd and Preacher Roe Expwy and we just felt plain safe (Lou Brock Lane woulda helped even more, but...). I didn't pay much attention to the throbbing itch on my right forearm as we pulled in to my brother-in-law's driveway after about a six hour drive.

Our nieces were in some sort of gymnastics exhibition ten minutes after we arrived, so I let the rest of the clan go ahead and stayed back with Jr. They had a rec-room-style area in the basement with cool seats on the floor, and we chilled like pills.

The lump on my arm had swollen to about an inch's hemispherical radius. My first thought was "bee sting" but I soon progressed to "scorpion sting" and "snake bite". It honestly didn't hurt that much, but looked like something out of a Cronenberg flick. Five days later and it's just starting to look normal. Probably a weird spider bite, but who knows?

Oh yeah, we watched a hilarious DVD. Taken is the story of a superhuman ex-spy trying to rescue his enslaved daughter. Except, er, it stars Liam Neeson. Never before has Neezy fit his "poor man's Harrison Ford" title than here. It's too absurd to even discuss here, but it did inspire me to compile a quick Top 5 Liam Neeson roles list:

1. Peyton Westlake, Darkman
2. Michael Gates, Husbands and Wives
3. Capt. Mikhail Polenin, K-19: The Widowmaker
4. Dr. Jerry Lovell, Nell
5. Oskar Schindler, Schindler's List
(apparently Abraham Lincoln, "Hannibal" from the A-Team, and Zeus are among his upcoming characters for 2009-2010)

We had fun in MO with good cookouts, Chuck E Cheese, and crappy baseball (Yanks 0-3 and completely inept Cards-Cubs and Sox-Royals games on TV). Our drive back to Memphis was uneventful (we took a bypass road around the Rebel Gas town) except for a hilarious bonus on our way out of Springfield. We hit an insanely crowded McDonald's drive-thru (two lanes!) for two breakfast sandwiches. I pulled up to pay and was told by two wholesome blond girls that "the last customer paid for y'all's breakfast." I quizzically asked, "Like, by accident?" and they replied, "Well, some people just pay for the next customer as a nice thing to do" and gave a couple of nice smiles. I gave a nice smile right back and drove off with our Mcsandwiches.

(click for part 3)

South in Ya Mouth (part 1)

We're now on the seventh day of the Mazzola summer family trip. Maybe he rested on the seventh day, but I sure as hell didn't.

I've had internet access a few times on the trip, and maybe had a free moment here and there, but rarely both at the same time. My twenty minutes at my brother-in-law's were spent updating the damn baseball pool and then I was whisked off to Bass Pro Shops Outdoor World (there's something hilarious about parking your car and walking into a mall to see "Outdoor World"), so posts just haven't been possible.

We flew to Memphis from LGA without much ado, except Lee Jr's caterwauling during his mid-flight diaper change. Flying with an 18-month-old is quite an experience.

We arrived, exhausted, and shlepped our shit to the Avis shuttle bus. It was goddamn 98 degrees. Since we had five huge "bags" (if you include a 30-pound car seat as a bag) and a toddler, we fell behind in the race from the bus to the check-in counter. We were last out of six customers.

The Avis location was beautiful, and had seven employees on staff to handle the line for rentals. Five of the seven were standing in the middle of the lobby watching the Michael Jackson tribute, and another guy was standing outside. That left one barely competent girl behind the counter. I scowled at the lazing red-shirted Avis "workers" as they stared up at a 75 degree angle at the mounted TV set. John Mayer came on and started jazz-juking his way through "Human Nature" as one of the Avis girls shouted, "Hey, ain't that John Mellencamp?!" I fantasized about ratting out the entire staff on my cell phone, but I kept my cool.

All was forgotten when our gorgeous champagne Grand Marquis appeared right in front of our bags, engine and A/C running. I squirmed in my seat and tried to adjust the steering wheel to a functional position-- apparently Marc Gasol is parking cars for Avis this summer. I felt around the side of the seat and depressed anything that felt like a button facing forward. In seconds I was howling in agony, as I protruded the lumbar support mechanism to its maximum jut. Imagine trying to drive a car with a fully inflated innertube around your waist.

Memphis was lotsa fun. We stayed at the distinguished Peabody for a few nights, which kicked ass. The St. Louis Cardinals AAA team plays right across the street, so I checked out a Redbirds-Isotopes game on our last night in town. I was coming from a cookout at our friends' place, so we were a bit late to the game. They weren't even selling beer when we sprinted in at the top of the 8th. I did get to see "Downtown" Dee Brown smack a home run to right before the game ended. Great little stadium.

We left for SW Missouri the next morning, which we'll pick up in part 2...

The Transversal

Last night I wasted a whole hour doing nothing while I should have been watching The Bachelor. Tonight I wasted another whole hour watching The Mentalist while I should have been doing anything except watching The Mentalist.

The show follows a well-worn formula: a brilliant, boylike investigator (Patrick Jane) solves crimes using his uncanny powers of observation, assisted by a bitchy, by-the-books boss (Teresa Lisbon), a bumbling, brawny sidekick (Wayne Rigsby), a buxom (ok, she's not that buxom but she never buttons up her shirts) brunette (Grace Van Pelt), and an uptight Asian guy (Kimball Cho). Not exactly an ensemble cast.

Jane usually starts things off by accusing the murder victim's spouse of having an affair with the primary suspect, which is only true about half of the time. He then sniffs around the crime scene, sometimes eating scraps of left-behind food or staring at family pictures. Finally, he encounters the "weird" family member, usually an autistic or socially challenged child or occasionally a dimwit. He bonds with said oddball, and cracks the case after the next commercial break.

Somewhere in between, he (1) uses an unconventional interrogation method fully against department protocol to gain information, such as hypnotism or sheer befuddlement, or (2) catches one of his underlings doing something embarassing, like hitting on a suspect or falling asleep on the job. He always almost gets fired by the bitchy boss, who never seems to have any idea who the murderer is.

In fact, Jane's extraordinary intellect is heightened by the fact that he works with completely incompetent fools. His team says things like "um, how did you know that?" or "I don't understand..." or "are you trying to tell us that she killed her own twin sister?!" and other stupid shit. The mentalist might be smarter than hell, but he's a terrible teacher.

Oh yeah, I performed an unbelievable parking feat today. Me, Mz and LJ drove out to Brooklyn for an Ikea/Costco trip. That's kind of an unbelievable feat in itself, but here's the real story. We came back home at around 4:00, so every contractor known to man was double parked on my block, with no real parking places to be found. Suddenly, a tiny little Honda squirted out from behind a couple of trucks, leaving a prime (but small) spot empty right in front of my pad. I was two truck widths from the curb, as shown in the accompanying diagram. It was not an easy maneuver, to say the least. First I thought I'd dub my move the double parallel park or maybe the para-parallel park. I finally settled on the transversal.

Anyway, The Mentalist is fun sometimes, but tonight's episode sucked. Even the guys walking in on two chicks in bed together couldn't save the show tonight. Now if only the Bachelor would do that...

Dead Door Heaven

Yesterday I snagged the most coveted spot in the entire MTA subway system. No, I'm not talking about the Railrider's Throne at 116th St., or that warm seat where the fat lady just got up from.

I'm talking about the "dead door" spot. We all love standing in the doors, even when we're not getting off for another ten stops. It pisses people off to no end, but it's a comfy spot nonetheless. I frequently perform the "gentleman's exit" or "okey-doke", where you step off and step back on again just before the doors close, thus reclaiming your door spot.

Anyway, the "dead door" occurs on the rare train with one malfunctioning door in a pair (usually F or A trains, it seems). One door never opens at all, squeezing exiting fares out like toothpaste. That stuck door, my friends, is the best spot on the train.

You get to stand in front of it and soak in all the nasty glares from other riders ("what makes you so special that you can just block the door like that?"), only to gloat in their faces when the door never moves. It's your own private nook, a little slice of heaven. I was standing next to some schmuck who was blocking the "live door" while I stood fast on his left. He was swept out of the car at 66th St. like a newbie on an Alaskan crab boat. He never knew what hit him.

I wondered yesterday if anyone had ever fallen out of a train where the dead door suddenly came to life... a zombie door! Doubt it-- broken shit on subways tends to stay broken.