Sunday, November 30, 2008
Diana Photos Come Through At Last
A big thank you, again, to Justin and Allie for helping us get back a few of the photos we took using Abby's Diana. Here's a little taste of what found its way back...
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
To Who It May Concern
It was brought to my attention that I'm still in Montana... on the blog I mean. For my own sake I should quickly make sure that changes, as I wouldn't want to spend any minute in Montana that I didn't absolutely have to. However, the mustard was quite nice up there.
See: 9 fingered Curt's Fine Yellow Mustard
Kansas came and went, and a huge thank you should be sent to the Renfro family for taking us in, feeding us, and ensuring that we had a good time in Lawrence. We saw KU's campus and some of their many state inspired street names, but the real story here is that we're home. I feel weird re-hashing things that happened so long ago.
It was an amazing ride. We've experienced more that we could've thought possible: city life, rural America, local breweries, countless parks, art-houses, restaurants, highways, backroads, you name it. People keep asking me my favorite parts of the trip, and honestly I don't have an answer. My mind is jumbled from all of the intake. I just know it was an amazing three week departure from normalcy.
Can this be a summary? No not really. I'm at the disadvantage of relaying through characters and scripts, and I'm nowhere near talented enough for that.
~The way I see in in my head is the way old maritime movies show nautical-types throwing out maps across a candle-lit tables and knocking off a hundred artifacts in the process~
Making an attempt:
The Caucasian race is a dying breed. The melting pot label was absolutely solidified, as we saw more and more Hispanic and Mexican culture the further we went west. Arizona Grant had informed us that they had made a legitimate attempt to change the official language of Phoenix to Spanish. Spanish radio stations dominated the waves, Taquerias blossomed in between street corners... The face of America is changing.
Along the same lines, Native Americans are absolutely exploited. Every billboard in the southwestern region related to Native American crafts, quilts, tools, jewelry, etc. hoping that the very idea of bottled culture will bring white folks and their billfolds running. Since we didn't stop, I can't really say how legitimate it all was. My hope is that it's separate from any kind of mass-produced arm of corporate America and showcases the skill and trade of a people. It's hard not to fall in love with the Native American model.
Fast food nation. Carls Junior, In and Out Burger, Jack in the Box, Del Taco, and all the familiars that come to mind with those two beautiful, alliterated words. You can get it anywhere, which is pretty alarming really. You realize it's a problem when you witness 40 McDonalds exits in a span of 10 hours.
The thing I had such a hard time getting out of was routine. The social-sphere of familiar faces, burger-joints, hang-outs, institutions... the whole of it vaporized not thirty minutes away. For every inch of freedom you get, a little bit of vulnerability comes with it. There's absolutely nothing quite like being out in the world. Most of it chalks up to some sense of self-discovery, the fear of the great unknown, the sheer uncertainty of it all... but some of it boils down to detachment. Sometimes we didn't know what city we'd land in, or what we'd see, or how long we'd remain in a box on wheels. Consciously it's a beautiful thing, but it's the subconscious you've gotta watch out for. Too much change isn't good for a man, thankfully I had two safety nets in friends.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
It crashes like waves. My mind comes to it from time to time unprovoked. It gets a little lighter, the chambers a little more forceful, and the pegs a little less reliable. I kind of drift places. It's what I wanted. I had every reason to believe the trip was going to be hellacious... braced myself for the bad, and hoped like hell the good would peak out in spells.
It wasn't perfect, but it's how it will be remembered. Things are like that, you know? Like when you say you hated high school, or how the summer between two educations was the best summer of your adolescent life. It's all got a feel to it. For me, that feel was monumental. Life changing. So joyous my heart wants to explode.
That's why we do it. That's why these things exist. Young and tanned and hopeful and desperate and teeming and alive and the potential to do something completely your own. We were the West Coast personified. Perfect? Yeah, if you ask me... it was.
Thanks for being a part of it with us
See: 9 fingered Curt's Fine Yellow Mustard
Kansas came and went, and a huge thank you should be sent to the Renfro family for taking us in, feeding us, and ensuring that we had a good time in Lawrence. We saw KU's campus and some of their many state inspired street names, but the real story here is that we're home. I feel weird re-hashing things that happened so long ago.
It was an amazing ride. We've experienced more that we could've thought possible: city life, rural America, local breweries, countless parks, art-houses, restaurants, highways, backroads, you name it. People keep asking me my favorite parts of the trip, and honestly I don't have an answer. My mind is jumbled from all of the intake. I just know it was an amazing three week departure from normalcy.
Can this be a summary? No not really. I'm at the disadvantage of relaying through characters and scripts, and I'm nowhere near talented enough for that.
~The way I see in in my head is the way old maritime movies show nautical-types throwing out maps across a candle-lit tables and knocking off a hundred artifacts in the process~
Making an attempt:
The Caucasian race is a dying breed. The melting pot label was absolutely solidified, as we saw more and more Hispanic and Mexican culture the further we went west. Arizona Grant had informed us that they had made a legitimate attempt to change the official language of Phoenix to Spanish. Spanish radio stations dominated the waves, Taquerias blossomed in between street corners... The face of America is changing.
Along the same lines, Native Americans are absolutely exploited. Every billboard in the southwestern region related to Native American crafts, quilts, tools, jewelry, etc. hoping that the very idea of bottled culture will bring white folks and their billfolds running. Since we didn't stop, I can't really say how legitimate it all was. My hope is that it's separate from any kind of mass-produced arm of corporate America and showcases the skill and trade of a people. It's hard not to fall in love with the Native American model.
Fast food nation. Carls Junior, In and Out Burger, Jack in the Box, Del Taco, and all the familiars that come to mind with those two beautiful, alliterated words. You can get it anywhere, which is pretty alarming really. You realize it's a problem when you witness 40 McDonalds exits in a span of 10 hours.
The thing I had such a hard time getting out of was routine. The social-sphere of familiar faces, burger-joints, hang-outs, institutions... the whole of it vaporized not thirty minutes away. For every inch of freedom you get, a little bit of vulnerability comes with it. There's absolutely nothing quite like being out in the world. Most of it chalks up to some sense of self-discovery, the fear of the great unknown, the sheer uncertainty of it all... but some of it boils down to detachment. Sometimes we didn't know what city we'd land in, or what we'd see, or how long we'd remain in a box on wheels. Consciously it's a beautiful thing, but it's the subconscious you've gotta watch out for. Too much change isn't good for a man, thankfully I had two safety nets in friends.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
It crashes like waves. My mind comes to it from time to time unprovoked. It gets a little lighter, the chambers a little more forceful, and the pegs a little less reliable. I kind of drift places. It's what I wanted. I had every reason to believe the trip was going to be hellacious... braced myself for the bad, and hoped like hell the good would peak out in spells.
It wasn't perfect, but it's how it will be remembered. Things are like that, you know? Like when you say you hated high school, or how the summer between two educations was the best summer of your adolescent life. It's all got a feel to it. For me, that feel was monumental. Life changing. So joyous my heart wants to explode.
That's why we do it. That's why these things exist. Young and tanned and hopeful and desperate and teeming and alive and the potential to do something completely your own. We were the West Coast personified. Perfect? Yeah, if you ask me... it was.
Thanks for being a part of it with us
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Rocky Mountain Oysters / Bull Testes
I can’t keep up.
Where were we last? Montana? Seriously? No way. That was forever ago. Okay I’ll start there.
Yellowstone National Park costs 25 bucks to drive through, but hey we did get to see a few bison hanging by the road, some elk roaming in the distant fields, and Old Faithful blew her top while we drank Montana soda pop. The area was seriously insane. Paint pots gurgled in a creamy white paste, bacteria mats were plastered around the sulfurous geysers, and steam constantly spewed from cracks in the earth. Then, you drive for two minutes and you’re back in lush wilderness. It was like being on another planet.
Leaving Y-stone was the worst, as it dumped us out on this terribly tiny road that we were stuck on for seriously 4 hours. We drove through a town with population 47, no joke. Gas stations were shut down, there wasn’t any food in sight, and we had to grin and bear it until we found a Taco John’s by the University of Wyoming way down the road. We saw 6 deer during that drive, all of which were right by the highway, and three came out at the same time when a momma deer walked her two babies right in front of our car. We were going 75 and had to slam on the breaks to just miss the collision. Deer need to evolve and realize that pavement is a no-no.
Then came the real trouble. We started calling hotels in Casper, a town 100 miles away at the time, only to slowly figure out that every room in the entire area is booked because of a freaking rodeo fair. Apparently, as we understood it, this is Wyoming’s big rodeo week where all the hillbillies pile in their F-150’s, trailer hitch a steed, and zip on down for some good old fashioned fun in no-man’s-land Wyoming to out-redneck one another in competition. For this reason, every neighboring town west and north of the area had been booked for months. We were stranded.
We wanted to sleep at 11:30, we got to sleep at nearly 4. We drove all night until we reached a town called Chugwater, Wyoming, where we stayed at the Buffalo Inn & Grill. Signs along the walls of the entryway said things like “Cowboys”, “Cowgirls”, and “Cowkids”, which had Abby laughing for twenty minutes. Nobody was at the front desk, so we rang this bell forever until this mammoth woman emerged from her lair, squinting but not saying a word. She was able to check us in in one of the funniest moments we’re had on the trip so far. She was so mean to me, had gray-stubble on her chin from where she hadn’t shaved, and had the neck of her sleeping shirt drooping low over her left shoulder, which revived my number 8 taco combo from 4 ½ hours before back to the brim of my throat. She handed me a key with nothing on it, told me to check out room 206, and proceeded to hand me the TV remote to the room. We were so tired that all of us were delirious and thought it may have been a dream, but in the morning we were reminded that she in fact was a troll and that every bit of her disgust was retained.
We bounced on to Denver, CO, a place not previously charted on the AAA travel sheet. We thought it would be a huge bonus to see the city, but in actuality it was pretty lame. Granted we only spent 4 hours in the city, and at least 3 of them consisted of eating at Noodles & Company and walking through the Denver Art Museum (DAM). We grabbed a beer on the way out at a less than memorable tap-room called the Great Divide Brewing Company. The beer was mediocre and the room felt the way it does when you shower for twenty minutes in a small room, and the steam takes over your lungs and turns your legs to jelly. Hit some traffic on the way out, and we landed in Goodland, Kansas.
We’re currently staying at America’s Best Value Inn, which is seriously an amazing hotel. Best continental breakfast ever, with fresh self-made waffles, biscuits and gravy, oranges, the works. It's here that we watched Harry Potter and a program about America’s best steaks until we passed out from the traveling.
We’re off to do it again, next stop Lawrence Kansas to see the amazing Emily Renfro, one of Abby’s buds from school. Can’t wait to hang out with somebody.
Where were we last? Montana? Seriously? No way. That was forever ago. Okay I’ll start there.
Yellowstone National Park costs 25 bucks to drive through, but hey we did get to see a few bison hanging by the road, some elk roaming in the distant fields, and Old Faithful blew her top while we drank Montana soda pop. The area was seriously insane. Paint pots gurgled in a creamy white paste, bacteria mats were plastered around the sulfurous geysers, and steam constantly spewed from cracks in the earth. Then, you drive for two minutes and you’re back in lush wilderness. It was like being on another planet.
Leaving Y-stone was the worst, as it dumped us out on this terribly tiny road that we were stuck on for seriously 4 hours. We drove through a town with population 47, no joke. Gas stations were shut down, there wasn’t any food in sight, and we had to grin and bear it until we found a Taco John’s by the University of Wyoming way down the road. We saw 6 deer during that drive, all of which were right by the highway, and three came out at the same time when a momma deer walked her two babies right in front of our car. We were going 75 and had to slam on the breaks to just miss the collision. Deer need to evolve and realize that pavement is a no-no.
Then came the real trouble. We started calling hotels in Casper, a town 100 miles away at the time, only to slowly figure out that every room in the entire area is booked because of a freaking rodeo fair. Apparently, as we understood it, this is Wyoming’s big rodeo week where all the hillbillies pile in their F-150’s, trailer hitch a steed, and zip on down for some good old fashioned fun in no-man’s-land Wyoming to out-redneck one another in competition. For this reason, every neighboring town west and north of the area had been booked for months. We were stranded.
We wanted to sleep at 11:30, we got to sleep at nearly 4. We drove all night until we reached a town called Chugwater, Wyoming, where we stayed at the Buffalo Inn & Grill. Signs along the walls of the entryway said things like “Cowboys”, “Cowgirls”, and “Cowkids”, which had Abby laughing for twenty minutes. Nobody was at the front desk, so we rang this bell forever until this mammoth woman emerged from her lair, squinting but not saying a word. She was able to check us in in one of the funniest moments we’re had on the trip so far. She was so mean to me, had gray-stubble on her chin from where she hadn’t shaved, and had the neck of her sleeping shirt drooping low over her left shoulder, which revived my number 8 taco combo from 4 ½ hours before back to the brim of my throat. She handed me a key with nothing on it, told me to check out room 206, and proceeded to hand me the TV remote to the room. We were so tired that all of us were delirious and thought it may have been a dream, but in the morning we were reminded that she in fact was a troll and that every bit of her disgust was retained.
We bounced on to Denver, CO, a place not previously charted on the AAA travel sheet. We thought it would be a huge bonus to see the city, but in actuality it was pretty lame. Granted we only spent 4 hours in the city, and at least 3 of them consisted of eating at Noodles & Company and walking through the Denver Art Museum (DAM). We grabbed a beer on the way out at a less than memorable tap-room called the Great Divide Brewing Company. The beer was mediocre and the room felt the way it does when you shower for twenty minutes in a small room, and the steam takes over your lungs and turns your legs to jelly. Hit some traffic on the way out, and we landed in Goodland, Kansas.
We’re currently staying at America’s Best Value Inn, which is seriously an amazing hotel. Best continental breakfast ever, with fresh self-made waffles, biscuits and gravy, oranges, the works. It's here that we watched Harry Potter and a program about America’s best steaks until we passed out from the traveling.
We’re off to do it again, next stop Lawrence Kansas to see the amazing Emily Renfro, one of Abby’s buds from school. Can’t wait to hang out with somebody.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tic Tac Suppository
The laptop is fully charged, meaning I have about 40 minutes to type on the road. This is what I get for leaving it plugged in for days at a time, but hey, it’s nice to see a 100% when you get the chance. It’s why I buy juice.
92% now and we’re winding along highway 191 down to West Yellowstone. I’ve gotta say, this is all the inspiration I needed to get back on the horse (not literally of course, they’re all cows out here). We’ve been parallel with what are pretty much white water rapids for about a half hour, watching as fisherman wade waist deep while their lines bob and weave along the waves. We even saw one gent pull out a net and scoop a thrashing fish from the iey blue chaos.
I should also mention that we’ve had a lot of fun with the town Butte, Montana. Apparently it’s pronounced Bee-yute, but we’ve enjoyed butchering it to suit our jokes. We came up with mascots for Butte High, assuming there is such a place, to pass the time.
See: Munchers, Hole Surfers, Assailants, Pinchers (some type of crustacean will do),
I also can’t explain the nickname Big Sky Country from where we are. The sky is usually chopped off by huge mountains; they’re constantly battling one another for space. The mountains are winning.
I’m trying something new, asking Weis (driving) to say whatever he feels, to open up the flood gates of his heart, and I will do the service of turning them into prose.
Weis:
“Umm… haha… haha… don’t write down my laughs, those aren’t fun.
Okay. I’m feeling very cautious because the wind is beneath my wings. There’s a lot of green things. Green is a great color. The water is blue. It’s very very beautiful.”
He continued by singing the Timon & Pumba number from Lion King. I’m very lucky to accompany a man with this type of perspective.
He’s right though, there IS a lot of green things.
92% now and we’re winding along highway 191 down to West Yellowstone. I’ve gotta say, this is all the inspiration I needed to get back on the horse (not literally of course, they’re all cows out here). We’ve been parallel with what are pretty much white water rapids for about a half hour, watching as fisherman wade waist deep while their lines bob and weave along the waves. We even saw one gent pull out a net and scoop a thrashing fish from the iey blue chaos.
I should also mention that we’ve had a lot of fun with the town Butte, Montana. Apparently it’s pronounced Bee-yute, but we’ve enjoyed butchering it to suit our jokes. We came up with mascots for Butte High, assuming there is such a place, to pass the time.
See: Munchers, Hole Surfers, Assailants, Pinchers (some type of crustacean will do),
I also can’t explain the nickname Big Sky Country from where we are. The sky is usually chopped off by huge mountains; they’re constantly battling one another for space. The mountains are winning.
I’m trying something new, asking Weis (driving) to say whatever he feels, to open up the flood gates of his heart, and I will do the service of turning them into prose.
Weis:
“Umm… haha… haha… don’t write down my laughs, those aren’t fun.
Okay. I’m feeling very cautious because the wind is beneath my wings. There’s a lot of green things. Green is a great color. The water is blue. It’s very very beautiful.”
He continued by singing the Timon & Pumba number from Lion King. I’m very lucky to accompany a man with this type of perspective.
He’s right though, there IS a lot of green things.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Pictures Won't Load
Unlike the rest of the country, Washington has little outlines of George Washington around their highways instead of the usual white shield. This is cute.
We must've caught the only rainless twenty-four hour period in Seattle in a long time.
Seattle was blessed with an asian Wal-Mart/grocer named Uwajimaya, where we purchased chili pasta, creme-brulee flavored crackers, a strange asian bread roll, and a two-liter of oolong tea. We were seriously in there for an hour, and it was a good thing that we didn't stay longer because apparently it's so popular that in order to park, you're required to buy over 7 dollars per hour.
We saw some Hello-Kitty rice packets, some tube-juices, and this unbelievable drink that said "Banana flavored grass jelly". Only in an asian market, right?
Sadly we left Seattle on that note, with our last visual being a schmorgusboard of bizzare packaged foods. We drove all the way out to a Super-8 outside of Spokane. It was there that we continued our hotel ritual of watching Larry King's coverage on the Texas UFO sighting. It's the same thing every show, with nothing new to add ever, but the people they get to interview from Texas make it all worth the while. Driving through Spokane we stopped into "Spokane Subs" and peaked around the Gonzaga University, which I have to say suuuucckkkksss. The school looks pretty small, a little boring, and everything hinted that religion was the only thing to do. Huge signs adorned every street saying cheerful things like "Learn to live your faith!".
With help from...
-King Khan & The Shrines: What Is ?!
-Magnetic Fields: Get Lost
-The Flaming Lips: Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots
-Countless Singles
we got to Missoula, where we wanted to pick up a few new CD's for the drive. Weis typed in "Records" in the GPS, which took us to a place called Habbilis Records. The place looked like a barrack, or a bomb shelter, that was abandoned years ago. I think it was a recording studio at one time... not what we wanted, so we went to get some coffee. We tried the GPS again by typing in "Brew" and Blakc Horse Coffee Brewers came up. Of course that sounded killer so we searched for it... for too long really, only to see that it was this the result.
We grabbed some beer at the Iron Horse Brew Pub, I think they were
-Big Sky TroutSlayer (not recommended)
-Big Sky Moose Drool Brown Ale
-Kettle House Brewery Cold Smoke Scoth Ale (highly recommended)
More driving, yadda yadda, I feel like the posts are seriously all the same!
We must've caught the only rainless twenty-four hour period in Seattle in a long time.
Seattle was blessed with an asian Wal-Mart/grocer named Uwajimaya, where we purchased chili pasta, creme-brulee flavored crackers, a strange asian bread roll, and a two-liter of oolong tea. We were seriously in there for an hour, and it was a good thing that we didn't stay longer because apparently it's so popular that in order to park, you're required to buy over 7 dollars per hour.
We saw some Hello-Kitty rice packets, some tube-juices, and this unbelievable drink that said "Banana flavored grass jelly". Only in an asian market, right?
Sadly we left Seattle on that note, with our last visual being a schmorgusboard of bizzare packaged foods. We drove all the way out to a Super-8 outside of Spokane. It was there that we continued our hotel ritual of watching Larry King's coverage on the Texas UFO sighting. It's the same thing every show, with nothing new to add ever, but the people they get to interview from Texas make it all worth the while. Driving through Spokane we stopped into "Spokane Subs" and peaked around the Gonzaga University, which I have to say suuuucckkkksss. The school looks pretty small, a little boring, and everything hinted that religion was the only thing to do. Huge signs adorned every street saying cheerful things like "Learn to live your faith!".
With help from...
-King Khan & The Shrines: What Is ?!
-Magnetic Fields: Get Lost
-The Flaming Lips: Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots
-Countless Singles
we got to Missoula, where we wanted to pick up a few new CD's for the drive. Weis typed in "Records" in the GPS, which took us to a place called Habbilis Records. The place looked like a barrack, or a bomb shelter, that was abandoned years ago. I think it was a recording studio at one time... not what we wanted, so we went to get some coffee. We tried the GPS again by typing in "Brew" and Blakc Horse Coffee Brewers came up. Of course that sounded killer so we searched for it... for too long really, only to see that it was this the result.
We grabbed some beer at the Iron Horse Brew Pub, I think they were
-Big Sky TroutSlayer (not recommended)
-Big Sky Moose Drool Brown Ale
-Kettle House Brewery Cold Smoke Scoth Ale (highly recommended)
More driving, yadda yadda, I feel like the posts are seriously all the same!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Big Sky Country
I’m writing this on I-90, headed from Missoula, Montana to an unknown destination (likely Yellowstone). It’s beautiful here, but as expected that’s no fun anymore. We’ve camped, laid out on beaches, seen and scaled mountains, plummeted down valleys, and stood atop any available higher ground to scan our surroundings, wherever those may be. We alternate between greens, blues, and asphalt-gray… it’s time for something else. I miss sitting on a couch and not feeling guilty for not being motivated. It’s why I’m so excited to pass underneath the signs that say east.
I’ve yet to talk about Seattle, but what’s there to say though that hasn’t been said about every city before it? The skyline was unique and it felt surreal to personalize another city I’d often seen and read about. The parks in the city were full of interesting local art, the restaurants were all tremendous, and of course the homeless people were still relentless in their quest for money.
*Side story on the homeless people: We went to a restaurant our first night in Seattle called Ivar’s, an on-the-water fish place that had both fast food and fine dining under the same roof. Weis and I both for the fish and chips, and being the man I am I finished all of it, while Weis continued to satisfy his need for to-go boxes after every meal. A few blocks down one homeless guy goes, “Hey man, can you spare the leftovers?”, and Weis walks on by saying “Sorry man”. Moments later, another homeless guy approaches and goes into a spiel about how he doesn’t get paid until next week and needs money to eat. Weis, thinking Seattle's impoverished wants food, now hands him his box of 3 fish planks. The guy grabs it and goes, “What is this?”, to which Weis replies, “Fish”. After a few second pause the liar hands him back the box and is like, “Yeah I don’t even eat fish man” and leaves. To sum it up, he pissed off one homeless dude by not giving him food, and he pissed off ANOTHER homeless dude by giving him food. 0-2.
Anyways what I was getting that though, is that the novelty of an unfamiliar city is wearing thin. The thrill of walking through un-charted territory is stale, it’s just work now. We research what the town is known for, the best restaurants, the places to be, and we walk double digit miles every day getting to do it all. I love the memories it will leave, but we’re approaching our third week of it. It's not an easy thing by any means.
There will be another post shortly about what we’ve done, which is far from boring looking back on it, but the problem lies with the present. It’s an in-situ dilemma that is feeling more and more forced with every stop.
Today, Missoula. Three hours.
I just need less and more. Either sounds better, you know.
But zero complaints, there's no where else I'd rather be.
I’ve yet to talk about Seattle, but what’s there to say though that hasn’t been said about every city before it? The skyline was unique and it felt surreal to personalize another city I’d often seen and read about. The parks in the city were full of interesting local art, the restaurants were all tremendous, and of course the homeless people were still relentless in their quest for money.
*Side story on the homeless people: We went to a restaurant our first night in Seattle called Ivar’s, an on-the-water fish place that had both fast food and fine dining under the same roof. Weis and I both for the fish and chips, and being the man I am I finished all of it, while Weis continued to satisfy his need for to-go boxes after every meal. A few blocks down one homeless guy goes, “Hey man, can you spare the leftovers?”, and Weis walks on by saying “Sorry man”. Moments later, another homeless guy approaches and goes into a spiel about how he doesn’t get paid until next week and needs money to eat. Weis, thinking Seattle's impoverished wants food, now hands him his box of 3 fish planks. The guy grabs it and goes, “What is this?”, to which Weis replies, “Fish”. After a few second pause the liar hands him back the box and is like, “Yeah I don’t even eat fish man” and leaves. To sum it up, he pissed off one homeless dude by not giving him food, and he pissed off ANOTHER homeless dude by giving him food. 0-2.
Anyways what I was getting that though, is that the novelty of an unfamiliar city is wearing thin. The thrill of walking through un-charted territory is stale, it’s just work now. We research what the town is known for, the best restaurants, the places to be, and we walk double digit miles every day getting to do it all. I love the memories it will leave, but we’re approaching our third week of it. It's not an easy thing by any means.
There will be another post shortly about what we’ve done, which is far from boring looking back on it, but the problem lies with the present. It’s an in-situ dilemma that is feeling more and more forced with every stop.
Today, Missoula. Three hours.
I just need less and more. Either sounds better, you know.
But zero complaints, there's no where else I'd rather be.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
I'm Sorry Miss Adkins, I Am Forreal
Tattooed Indie Hipster Guy (TIHG): "Just need to see some ID's"
Me: "Here ya go"
TIHG: "Recite your address and hold out your right arm"
Me: "Ummm well I've moved since then I... it should be 425 Avenue of Champions but like I said I d..."
TIGH: "...Your right arm please"
Me: "Oh yeah, yeah here"
STAMPED
TIHG: (To Abby) "ID"
Abby: *Hands it over
TIHG: "This doesn't look like you"
a minute passes
TIHG: "Sign your name five times on this piece of paper"
Abby: *signs it, scratching out a few beginning letters here and there
he takes the paper to the back with him... and comes back out
TIHG: "This isn't you is it"
Abby: *says something along the lines of how it isn't
TIHG: "Ok well I legally have to take this from you..."
then turns to me and says, without actually looking at me, "Your girl can't come in"
And there we have it, the shot to the foot of any of the plans that may have developed as a team in P-town. We were turned away everywhere, even just to eat, because apparently being a citizen or a human being in Portland is only affirmed by a sideways state license. After a long trial and error period, Abby decided to head back for the hotel and Weis and I stayed out for a bit...
We went to a place called Tugboat Brewery, or something ship related, and began talking to an overweight, English-American, woven hat wearing gent named Linsel. He told us about how in the bar, he plays nature documentaries set to a soundtrack that he creates at home which best lay down the mood of say... alligators eating wilderbeasts. Crazy guy, but we had a blast. We each had a beer from the brewery (Copper Ale for me and something hoppy for Weis) and another local beer brewed from around the area.
Then, off to find food, which happened at a little Mexican trailer positioned on the street corner by the bars. A few people were tearing into burritos, so we hopped on-board. I gulped down a chorizo and egg burrito and thought it was amazing all the way up until the bathroom experience the next day, but that's a different story for a different blog.
We promised Abby we'd bring back donuts from the crazy donut shop we'd seen earlier in the day, so we scooped a Voodoo Dozen at Voodoo Donuts. This dozen is where you don't get to pick, they just throw random things into a pink box until they reach 12... I'll recite the ones I remember eating
Glazed with captain crunch on top
Glazed with fruit loops on top
Grape ape (grape kool-aid sprinkles)
Bubble gum, where a double bubble rests in the center
Butterscotch
M&M cakebread
They were insane, and we've been eating them for two days. I have added twenty pounds of pure donut weight to my torso.
We stopped in another bar right outside of our hotel, met some locals (easily since I was holding a pink box of 12 donuts at the bar), and had a Tecate with lime before coming back to see our third amigo and compadre. She looked healthier having not been around Weis and I for a bit, I think we wear people down.
We're posted up in the Silver Cloud Inn in Seattle, right across from Safeco Field and Pyramid brewery.... but it's time for checkout...
Until later ya'll
Me: "Here ya go"
TIHG: "Recite your address and hold out your right arm"
Me: "Ummm well I've moved since then I... it should be 425 Avenue of Champions but like I said I d..."
TIGH: "...Your right arm please"
Me: "Oh yeah, yeah here"
STAMPED
TIHG: (To Abby) "ID"
Abby: *Hands it over
TIHG: "This doesn't look like you"
a minute passes
TIHG: "Sign your name five times on this piece of paper"
Abby: *signs it, scratching out a few beginning letters here and there
he takes the paper to the back with him... and comes back out
TIHG: "This isn't you is it"
Abby: *says something along the lines of how it isn't
TIHG: "Ok well I legally have to take this from you..."
then turns to me and says, without actually looking at me, "Your girl can't come in"
And there we have it, the shot to the foot of any of the plans that may have developed as a team in P-town. We were turned away everywhere, even just to eat, because apparently being a citizen or a human being in Portland is only affirmed by a sideways state license. After a long trial and error period, Abby decided to head back for the hotel and Weis and I stayed out for a bit...
We went to a place called Tugboat Brewery, or something ship related, and began talking to an overweight, English-American, woven hat wearing gent named Linsel. He told us about how in the bar, he plays nature documentaries set to a soundtrack that he creates at home which best lay down the mood of say... alligators eating wilderbeasts. Crazy guy, but we had a blast. We each had a beer from the brewery (Copper Ale for me and something hoppy for Weis) and another local beer brewed from around the area.
Then, off to find food, which happened at a little Mexican trailer positioned on the street corner by the bars. A few people were tearing into burritos, so we hopped on-board. I gulped down a chorizo and egg burrito and thought it was amazing all the way up until the bathroom experience the next day, but that's a different story for a different blog.
We promised Abby we'd bring back donuts from the crazy donut shop we'd seen earlier in the day, so we scooped a Voodoo Dozen at Voodoo Donuts. This dozen is where you don't get to pick, they just throw random things into a pink box until they reach 12... I'll recite the ones I remember eating
Glazed with captain crunch on top
Glazed with fruit loops on top
Grape ape (grape kool-aid sprinkles)
Bubble gum, where a double bubble rests in the center
Butterscotch
M&M cakebread
They were insane, and we've been eating them for two days. I have added twenty pounds of pure donut weight to my torso.
We stopped in another bar right outside of our hotel, met some locals (easily since I was holding a pink box of 12 donuts at the bar), and had a Tecate with lime before coming back to see our third amigo and compadre. She looked healthier having not been around Weis and I for a bit, I think we wear people down.
We're posted up in the Silver Cloud Inn in Seattle, right across from Safeco Field and Pyramid brewery.... but it's time for checkout...
Until later ya'll
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