My Bad . . . Mules Are Awesome

I would like to take back all the awful things I said about mules and mule tours in yesterday's post: mules are integral part of the Grand Canyon experience and a wonderful way for families to bond on vacation, mule-riders are in now way lazy and/or mentally deficient, and mule defecation is vegetable-based, fragrant and biodegradable-- mules are wonderful and practical hybrid animals put here on God's green earth to serve mankind, they are honorable and loyal and their reputation for kicking people in the head and giving them brain-damage is a rural-legend . . . and this retraction was in no way influenced by my new friends at the North Rim Mule Train Concession Lobby Consortium . . . and there is also no connection between the NRMTCLC and my decision to change the name of this blog to Awesome Mule Train of Dave.

The North Rim: Many Pros and One Big Shitty Con

First of all, if you're going to visit the Grand Canyon, I would urge you to go to the North Rim-- or look at my wife's lovely pictures-- here are a few reasons why:

1) it's desolate . . . though it's a much farther drive than the South Rim, you travel through the immense wilderness of the Kaibab National Forest to get there, and there's really only two places to stay-- the lodge and campgrounds, which require a reservation up to a year in advance, or the Kaibab Lodge and adjacent campground, which are located five miles from the park entrance . . . we stayed there in a rustic little cabin (which still had electricity and fantastic water pressure in the shower) and the cabins are at the foot of the forest, overlooking enormous meadows . . . the kids had a blast exploring and building structures with fallen logs and you feel like you are really in the middle of nowhere (no wifi, but there is a general store that sells full-strength beer);

2) the North Rim is several thousand feet higher than the South Rim . . . so the temperatures are much cooler-- we went from 105 in Moab to lows in the 40s and highs in the 70s-- the weather is extraordinary for hiking, and-- even better-- when you get to the highest viewpoints on the North Rim-- which are near 9000 feet-- you can see across the Canyon and over the South Rim, for up to a hundred miles, there are vast plains and scrubland, layers of rock, moving cloud shadows, distant mountains . . . it's hard to take it all in . . . the South Rim is a bit of a tourist zoo but the views into the canyon are still profound, so if you've been to the South Rim, imagine that view times three, minus the crowds, and add a cool mountain breeze and the smell of the juniper and pinyon pines;

3) the North Rim lodge has loads of comfy deck chairs at the edge of the precipice, so you can read and look at the view, until your children get kicked out of the gift shop because they were making too much noise playing the expensive hand-made Native American flutes . . . Alex explained that they do have a bucket of plastic disposable mouthpieces so playing the flutes is obviously encouraged; I surmise from this that the boys must have been making a LOT of noise, because the shopkeeper came over and asked them if they had 200 hundred dollars, and told them that if they didn't, then they needed to leave;

4) the lodge also has rows of comfy leather couches inside, these are perfect for collapsing in after a long hike, and they look through a giant window across the canyon . . . the restaurant is also good and offers similar views-- I had the fry bread covered in elk chili and it was delicious-- this must be a National Park thing, because I had a similar meal in the Badlands;

5) the hiking and driving along the rim is fantastic, especially all the little hikes and Native American ruins on the way to Point Royal and Point Imperial;

6) lots of wildlife-- we saw wild turkeys, a coyote, a Kaibab squirrel, and mule deer-- but there are also bobcat and bison and beavers and lots of other creatures whose names do not commence with the letter B;

and here is the con:

7) there is only one trail on the North Rim that heads down into the Canyon, the North Kaibab Trail-- and it is a marvel of engineering and offers beautiful views BUT . . . and I wish we had been warned about this-- they allow mule tours for the first two miles of the trail and so the trail is covered in mule shit and there are puddles of mule urine . . . once you get through the Supai Tunnel, this ends, but at that point you are WAY down in the canyon and you need to think about turning back if you are doing a day hike . . . and EVERYONE we talked to loathes the mule tours, including one candid ranger-- and loads of other rangers were rebuilding the trail because of the mule tours, so I'm sure they hated this private concession as well, which doesn't even give much money to the park-- and if you paid ninety dollars for a mule tour, understand that everyone else on the trail hates and despises you, because on the way down, hikers have to pass the mule trains and on the way up the mule trains pass you, and while the mule-guide assured us we wouldn't get kicked, and told us to just "plow on through," I wasn't very confident about this-- mules have a reputation for kicking and when you're on a precipice trail a mile above the Colorado River, you don't want to be near a mule's ass . . . anyway, if you're one of the folks who took a mule tour down the trail, understand that you are ruining the trail for everyone else-- it absolutely reeks, the dirt is soft and torn up, and this mine-field of poop and urine should not be the final reward for the intrepid hikers that walked the twenty-some miles from the South Rim to the North Rim . . . it's astounding that the National Park Service allows this . . . the only explanation is tradition-- it has been done for a long time and I'm sure for some people it evokes the Wild West, but the thing you don't get in The Searchers is that it reeked to high heaven in the Wild West . . . I could understand if there were mules for those with disabilities because it is tough hiking, especially coming back up, but there's actually no reason to go down into the canyon-- you don't need to do this, on foot or on a mule, as the hikes and views on the rim are wonderful-- and there are enough trails up there, to designate one for mule-riding, but the North Kaibab trail is the only trail that goes into the canyon on the North Rim, so to cover it in a layer of mule defecation and flies seems bizarre . . . and for those of you who were wondering, a mule is a sterile cross between a donkey and a horse, and I hate those fucking things.

How Did We Survive?

Yesterday, we traveled from the evergreen forests and vast meadows of the Grand Canyon's North Rim all the way to the red rock desert of Sedona . . . it was 48 degrees in the morning at the North Rim, and 95 degrees at noon in Sedona . . . but the biggest difference was technological: we had no wifi at the North Rim-- and these are the things we wanted to look up during our stay up there:

1) the veracity of the word "spackler," we were playing lots of Bananagrams and I used that word . . . but it looks like it's not a word;

2) the exact genetic origins of a mule . . . more on this tomorrow in a profanity-laced description of the North Kaibab trail;

3) the actual time . . . apparently, Arizona does not subscribe to Daylight Savings Time (but the Navajo Nation does) and so every ride was a crapshoot, because the GPS took this into consideration . . . sometimes . . . and we were operating with four different times-- the car clock said one thing, Cat's phone another, my phone a third time, and the clock in our cabin had a fourth (correct) time, but we never bothered to set anything to the correct time;

4) birds . .  . we saw little blue birds (probably Pinyon Jays) and little birds with red heads and yellow bodies and all sorts of hummingbirds and we couldn't identify any of them;

5) the name for a group of ravens . . . everyone knows a group of crows is called a murder, but we kept seeing groups of ravens (usually consuming roadkill) and we didn't know that we could have referred to them as a "conspiracy" or an "unkindness" or a "constable";

6) what a decoy spider looks like;

7) if we could see Phil Torres getting attacked by a spitting cobra on a reality science show which never aired . . . we learned about this on a podcast called Talk Nerdy and the episode is great but you can't see the footage.

Miscellany

A few odds and ends:

1) if you want to see a plethora of dune buggies, Moab is the place-- they are apparently street legal in Utah-- and they are everywhere . . . riding on the BLM trails, parked in downtown Moab, in garages in our condo neighborhood, and being pulled on trailers; I don't know how people endure the dust and sand, but they certainly look like a lot of fun;

2) everytime I see a Pet Waste Station with plastic bags and signage urging dog owners to clean up after their pets, I really miss Sirius . . . and watching the Family Guy episode when Brian gets hit by a car didn't help;

3) the Moon travel guide on Arizona describes the North Kaibab Trail-- which we'll probably be hiking as you read this-- as "twisting down improbable routes hard against the cliffs, with nothing but your sanity keeping you away from the gorge."

Grand Canyon: The Sequel

We are probably off the grid right now, on the desolate North Rim of the Grand Canyon, and the views are probably breath-taking, and the magnificence of the canyon is most certainly awe-inspiring, overwhelming and profound, but don't worry-- because if Steve Martin's character in the Lawrence Kasdan film Grand Canyon is any indicator, then we'll be back to our normal grouchy, sarcastic selves by the time we get home to New Jersey.

One Last Epic Day in Utah

Our last full day in Moab we:

1) got up at the crack of dawn and drove into Arches one last time-- we hiked through the Windows region and saw a big-eared jackrabbit . . . for pictures, head to Captions of Cat;

2) drove through dirt, gravel, sand, and rock to Mill Canyon Dinosaur Trail and Copper Ridge Dinosaur Trail . . . Mill Canyon is the place to see a lizard sitting on a rock that contains giant leg bones of his long extinct cousin-- if a lizard could understand irony, would this be irony?-- and Copper Ridge is the place to see giant Diplodocus footprints right next to perfectly preserved Allosaurus footprints, you can see the claw indentations of the Allosaur and you can see where the herbivore made a sharp right turn, possibly to check out the lurking predator . . . this happened 150 million years ago but the footprints, pressed deep into the shale, look like they could have been made minutes before . . . kudos to our Toyota Sienna minivan for making it out to these sites, as the roads are suggested for only high-framed four-wheel drive vehicles;

3) drove out to Canyonlands National Park and hiked to the Mesa Arch, which sits atop a five-hundred foot cliff, and then climbed on top of Whale Rock, which offers panoramic views of the entire region-- you feel like you are on top of the world . . . and, as a bonus, the rock really does look like a whale, blowhole and all;

4) ate at the Moab Diner, which has great green chile verde sauce . . . I am sampling the chile verde sauce everywhere we stop, and this stuff holds up, though my favorite batch so far was at Snooze in Boulder, with a close second at Jilbertitos #1 in Glenwood Springs;

5) endured another dust storm, apparently whenever the weather is pleasant in Utah, it's not actually pleasant, it's foreboding.

Utah: People Get Stuck On Rocks Here

Here are some other fun things to do in and around Moab:

1) drive into the mountains and do the Manti La Sal loop road-- 100 degrees in Moab but up at the Squaw Springs trailhead it was 77-- the hike had phenomenal views of the red rock valley, but once we entered the gate, there was a fair bit of cow poop on the trail, and we saw one cow ahead in the brush, but she ran away-- the rest of the drive was incredibly scenic but also hair-raising, narrow switch backs and no guard rails . . . we ate lunch at the bottom of the loop at Lion's Park and watched a youngish girl get stuck on top of a climbing boulder-- her siblings were up and down in a flash, and left her there, crying, wearing flip flops on her hands and feet, and it took her parents twenty minutes to coax her down;

2) hike up to some Allosaurus tracks on a tilted slab of rock and view the nearby petroglyphs;

3) read a Tony Hillerman mystery-- I finished my first, A Thief of Time . . . it's full of four corners topography, Native American mythology, pot hunting, shady archeology deals, wild places, anthropology and murder;

4) hike the Mill Creek Trail . . . it runs past several swimmin' holes, and though the signs warn that the water is contaminated with giardia and e coli bacteria, this didn't stop the locals from diving right in-- we mainly waded through and across the stream, until we made it to the waterfall, which is in a beautiful spot protected by a sandstone ledge roof . . . there is a rope which the locals use to scale the falls, and then they jump down into a rather shallow pool-- as a bonus and fitting end to the day, we got to see a college-aged tourist climb the rope and clamber to the ledge . . . a local girl gave him advice on how to get up, and then, like the little girl earlier in the day, he didn't really know how to jump down-- and his mom started freaking out a bit-- and finally, another guy told him a side route down and he disappeared . . . but then we saw plenty of locals jump off the cliff, and no one broke their neck, and then-- a double bonus, a windstorm rolled in just as we got to the car, sand started flying, tumbleweeds actually tumbled, and the entire neighborhood came out of their houses to enjoy the show.

Don't Know Much About History, But . . .

I admittedly don't know many of the details of history-- I'm more of a big-picture guy-- but I am smart enough to recognize that Peter Frankopan's tour de force book Silk Roads: A New History of the World is not only precise and vivid with the details, but it will also make you revise your big-picture ideas as well . . . here are a few passages that I liked:

1) Early Christians had to battle against prejudice, bringing anguished cries from writers such as Tertullian (c. 160-225 AD), whose appeals have been compared by one distinguished scholar to Shakespeare's Shylock: we Christians "live beside you, share your food, your dress, your customs, the same necessities as life as you do," he implored . . . just because we do not attend Roman religious ceremonies, he wrote, does not mean that we are not human beings . . . "Have we different teeth or organs of incestuous lust?";

2) Once, wrote the historian al-Mas udi, the ancient Greeks and Romans had allowed the sciences to flourish; then they adopted Christianity . . . when they did so, they effaced the signs of learning, eliminated its traces, destroyed its paths" . . . science was defeated by faith . . . it is almost the precise opposite of the world as we see it today: the fundamentalists were not the Muslims, but the Christians; those whose minds were open, curious, and generous were based in the east-- and certainly not in Europe;

3) The reality of the story was very different . . . although the days that followed the assassination of Franz Ferdinand saw a series of misunderstandings, discussions, ultimata and permutations that would all be impossible to recreate, the seeds of war grew out of changes and developments located many thousands of miles away . . . Russia's rising ambition and the progress it was making in Persia, Central Asia and the Far East put pressure on Britain's position overseas, resulting in the fossilization of alliances in Europe.


Ranger Mike Inspires Dave to Endure the Heat


I am not a fan of the heat-- I'm a hairy mesomorph and when I get hot I feel like my brain is going to melt-- and I'm always impressed by people who don't seem bothered by it; the reported high in Moab yesterday was 105 degrees, and we saw people running and biking along without worry . . . and so I was determined not to complain on our ranger led hike into the Fiery Furnace . . . which my hiking guidebook assured me was not named that because of the heat, but instead because of the lovely red colors on the rocks in the shady gullies and canyons . . . the hike started at 5 PM, and promised three hours of strenuous hiking, climbing, jumping, obstacles, gullies, crevices, and natural information, and despite the late afternoon start, it was still insanely hot-- somewhere between 102 and 105, and while it was a dry heat, it was still a very hot heat-- and a dozen plus chipper hikers, mainly women and teenagers, met in the parking lot-- everyone discussing how much water they had and how excited they were to descend into the Fiery Furnace (you have to purchase a permit and/or go in with a ranger as there are no set trails) but I was skeptical and so I asked Ranger Mike if there was much shade and he said there was shade later in the hike but the first half was "brutal," and then he told us that two people DIED of heat related illnesses in the park in the last week and they were dealing with another case of heatstroke on Delicate Arch as he spoke . . . and he judged it was still 102 degrees and they didn't cancel the hike unless it hit 110 . . . in fact, Ranger Mike's prologue to the hike seemed designed to dissuade anyone who wasn't serious into quitting then and there-- and eight folks didn't show up at all . . . but this speech made my children very happy, they felt they were headed on a real adventure . . . and it was, but he was exaggerating about the lack of shade, we got into it fairly quickly and the temperature actually became quite reasonable-- I didn't really complain at all-- and then the rest of the hike was spectacular-- check out my wife's pictures-- we walked through arches, climbed through arches, were surprised by Surprise Arch in a pocket canyon, duck walked and climbed through thin cracks, and saw breathtaking views of the surrounding canyons and valleys and mesas around every turn . . . and in the shady crevice, under the span of Surprise Arch, Ranger Mike gave a surprisingly moving speech about what the National Parks meant to him, especially Arches, in which he alluded to overcoming a serious illness-- leukemia or cancer?-- and that his inspiration to fight the disease and get better was his love of the outdoors and the solitude and beauty of our park system, especially Arches . . . and his speech has in turn inspired me: I will never complain about the heat again . . . unless it's over 110 degrees, because even Ranger Mike doesn't hike when it's over 110 degrees.

High Painless Drifters

Gold stars for my kids on Sunday morning, they got up without prompting or complaint at 5 AM, and we hiked the Devil's Garden and primitive loop trail, the longest in the park-- when we hit the trail (6:30 AM) it was shady and 60 degrees, and six miles and three and a half hours later, upon our return it was only 83 degrees . . . not bad at all in the desert; the hike was astounding, lots of arches, including the longest in the world (Landscape Arch) and the aesthetically pleasing Double O Arch; the kids enjoyed all the rock climbing-- we hiked along narrow slanted precipes, atop slender rock fins, into shady gullies and canyons, and along a few exposed high plains looking out over the mesas and mountains and spires of red sandstone; there was also plenty of wildlife-- we saw deer, jackrabbits, lizards, a snakeskin, and a little toad with beautiful red spots (aptly named the red-spotted toad) and while none of these animals would be particularly exciting out of context-- a bunny is a bunny and we often have deer on our front lawn-- but when you see something moving through the red sand and cacti and sage and stone of the Moab desert, the feeling is extraterrestrial, like witnessing life on Mars . . . for some pictures of this stuff (especially sunrise on Balanced Rock and the red-spotted toad) head over to Captions of Cat and for posterity, if my kids get in big trouble in the future (which they certainly will) they can refer to this post for a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Hiking Boots Are For Sissies


Though we got a bit of a late start (by desert standards) and didn't get to the trailhead until 7:30 AM, we decided to tackle the most famous and popular hike in Arches National Park, Delicate Arch; when we arrived, the parking lot was already half full and there were a fair amount of people walking into the red rock desert . . . we were well-prepared for the heat and the slickrock, with our sun hats and hiking boots and plenty of water-- the hike is over three miles, with a strenuous steep ascent without much shade, but apparently-- if you're really tough and Asian and came by tour bus-- then you make the hike much more difficult by wearing completely inappropriate clothing and footwear; we saw Asian folks wearing heavy jackets, jeans, flip-flops, dress shoes, wedge heels, carrying umbrellas in one hand and cameras in the other . . . and despite these encumbrances, they moved along at a decent clip; in order to embrace this challenge and do America proud, I am going to do my next Arches hike in sandals, long underwear, sweatpants, and a sweat-shirt, while carrying a laptop computer and a lit sparkler . . . and I did harness my inner-Asian when I descended low on the slickrock bowl below the Arch to take a picture of my family-- my wife said I was making people nervous because I was close to the rim and not looking at my footing and she reminded me that many people fall while snapping pictures, a fact I did not know . . . anyway, despite the late start and the biting gnats that only swarmed Catherine (a very rare occurrence, according to the ranger) and the line of people waiting to get a picture inside the Arch, it was still beautiful at the top (and quite cool, I guess because of the shade, the desert, breeze, and the altitude) and it was a fast walk down (with an excellent side trail to see some petroglyphs) and then we stopped for lunch at The Moab Brewery, which now serves full strength beer . . . the last time Cat and I were there-- twenty years ago-- they only served 3.2 beer, so that's a major improvement, but we still heard the waiter give a long, apologetic explanation to the table next to us about why they couldn't order a flight of beer . . . in Utah, you can't order more than two drinks at a time-- even if they're just shot glasses of beer-- and the two drinks can't both be liquor drinks, so you can order a shot and a beer, but not two margaritas (according to this waiter, who sounded like he'd done this spiel a million times before) but he told them once they chugged their two shot glasses of beer, they could order two more . . . and then drive 80 mph to the next bar . . . and if you need more visuals to understand all this gibberish, head over to Captions of Cat.



Denver to Moab: Ice Your Beer!

Utah: the land where you can legally drive 80 mph, but you can't buy full strength beer in the grocery store (and after white-knuckling it along the scenic route into Moab-- Route 128, which is an incredibly scenic route, as there are no unsightly guardrails to ruin the views-- so after navigating that, I really wanted a cold beer . . . but the good stuff I bought in Colorado was warm, and the only full strength beer available in Moab was in the State Liquor Store . . . and they only sell that warm . . . warm? . . . and the stuff Cat bought in the supermarket in Utah was 3.2 . . . because that's how Utah supermarkets roll, and that information was extremely difficult to find on the label, so I did the usual stupidity and put some cans of warm Colorado beer in the freezer, then went to the pool, then came back and tried to pour a cold one, only to find it was frozen slush . . . so next time I'm coming through, I'll remember: ice your beer in Colorado if you want a cold one in Moab).

Things To Do in Boulder and Denver When You're Dead (Tired)

While the ride from Jersey to Boulder nearly killed me, I miraculously recovered-- I'm not dead yet!-- and did some things, such as:

1) catch up with Jason at his favorite beer and burger joint (Reuben's Burger Bistro) while watching the USMNT get annihilated by Argentina . . . I recommend the River Runners Pale Ale, the Escape to Colorado IPA, any of the Renegade beers, and some better goal side defending;

2) eat a gigantic breakfast burrito (the size of my thigh, Jason claimed) smothered in thick and delicious green chile sauce at Snooze an AM Eatery;

3) hike to the Royal Arch in Chautauqua Park . . . the view of Boulder through the arch is spectacular but the park is quite busy-- apparently no one in Boulder works, they just hike around (even if they're old or pregnant or have to carry a small child in a pack) and so I had to park down the road and hike to the park and the trail is steep and rocky in places, so I was sweating up a storm by the time I got to the top (because I overhydrated to deal with the altitude and so I had plenty of liquid in me to sweat out) but I did NOT get a high-altitude headache-- I'm getting smarter about this: I took it easy the night before, only drank four beers at Reuben's, and then drank plenty of water during the hike-- despite this my legs felt like jelly on the way down;

4) drink a few Norns Roggenbier at the Fate Company in Boulder-- good stuff;

5) wander around the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge before and after I picked up my wife and kids at the Denver airport . . . Ian caught a toad, we all saw lots of prairie dogs, and the jackrabbits and the buffalo roamed;

6) enjoy the Denver Art Museum and the food truck festival just outside;

7) sample the rattlesnake/pheasant, buffalo, boar, and beef wrapped in bacon dogs at Jim's Biker Bar;

8) reference a '90's noir movie that I barely remember . . . stay tuned for a Red Rock West allusion!

President Obama! Explain this Political Policy Paradox!

President Obama has been pushing for new regulations on the payday loan industry, and has spoken out very clearly against predatory lending: "If you're making a profit by trapping hardworking Americans in a vicious cycle of debt, then you need to find a new way of doing business," but -- ironically-- one of his policies has caused people struggling financially to take out a similar loan . . . in order to "rent" tires . . . because the price of tires has increased enormously due to a 35% punitive tariff President Obama placed on Chinese tires, which were flooding the market and driving down prices (you can learn all about this by listening to Planet Money Episode 467: Tires, Taxes, and the Grizz) but the long and short of it is that the United Steelworkers Union lobbied for the tariff, and Obama proudly saved 1200 US jobs in the tire industry, but Planet Money figures that it would have cost 48 million dollars to pay those workers, but the tire tax is costing US citizens 1.1 billion dollars in tire costs, thus people can't afford tires and so are "renting" them from predatory lenders, being trapped in a vicious cycle of debt, and paying much much more for their tires than they would have if Obama would not have intervened . . . and so I wonder if the President is aware of this irony-- he's a smart guy-- and just has to live with the awareness, because saving jobs and catering to special interest groups is a part of politics, or if he doesn't realize the paradox in his policy and see that he's created the exact situation he has tried to eradicate . . . someone pass this post to him, and he can defend himself in the comments (but you better watch out for zman, Mr. President, his comments are incisive and funny and might be the end of you).

Topeka to Boulder . . . Not as Close as It Looks on the Map

I made it to Boulder and it's beautiful (but quite hot) but I nearly lost my mind in Kansas . . . and if you're a fan of Sentence of Dave, then you'll really appreciate this-- I got incredibly pissed off TWICE, once on each leg of my journey, each time when I realized I had an hour more to drive than I thought because of the time change (I hate time changes) as I was relying on the GPS, which based its ETA on adjusted time (and so I got pissed off at Central and Mountain time, respectively) and I also learned that listening to stand-up comedy album after stand-up comedy album, one after another, each angrier and edgier and more political and weird than the last, is a great way to stay alert, but also a recipe for going crazy, podcasts are a lot more mellow . . . anyway, here's how I killed eight hours yesterday:

1) Patton Oswalt Feelin' Kinda Patton;

2) Slanted and Enchanted Pavement;

3) Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots The Flaming Lips;

4) No Respect Rodney Dangerfield;

5) Fashion Nugget Cake;

6) Funkadelic America Eats Its Young;

7) Shame-Based Man Bruce McCulloch;

8) Sheryl Crow Tuesday Night Music Club;

9) Rant in E-Minor Bill Hicks;

10) Born to Run Bruce Springsteen . . . of course;

11) Benjamen Walker's Theory of Everything;

12) The Test, episodes 34 and 37 . . .

and, yes-- I know it is narcissistic and absurd to listen to your  own podcast-- but I was really losing my mind and it was nice to hear the sound of my own voice, interacting normally with other people and here's a few things I chose not to do: I did NOT stop at Eisenhower's Boyhood Home and Library, nor did I care to take a gander at the World's Largest Czech Egg or the Kansas Auto Racing Museum . . . maybe next time, when I'm in a self-driving car, I'll have the robot driver pull over so I can check out the Czech egg.

Cross Country Again: Jersey to Pittsburgh to Topeka

I have driven out West five times now; once with my buddy John-- we made it all the way to Montana before I blew four of the engine rods of his Jeep Wagoneer-- and once with Catherine, we took the Jeep all the way to the Grand Canyon, and once with Whitney-- we lost our minds in Kansas but finally did make it to Boulder-- and once with the entire family, again to Montana, and now this time-- alone-- and I've made it Topeka (the family is flying in to Denver on Thursday morning) and I'm not doing this again until we have self-driving cars . . . but while it was a long way, I had a great pit stop at John's place in Pittsburgh and watched the NBA finals and I had far more to listen to than on the previous trips; I don't remember what John and I listened to in the Wagoneer, but I had to take the bus home (John and Ryan abandoned me and flew, but I didn't want to spend the money) and all I had were two cassettes -- Dead Letter Office by R.E.M. and The Velvet Underground & Nico-- and a yellow walkman, so I listened to those over and over . . . with Catherine I guess we listened to CD's and talked (this was the mid '90's) and I don't remember what Whitney and I listened to because we mainly played stupid games, including drafting bizarre "Olympic" teams from among our fraternity brothers-- the events were darts and pool and such-- and these teams offended a lot of people once we arrived in Colorado (plus we were very very hungover, so if we listened to anything it was at a low volume) and our family trip two years ago we were stocked digitally and listened to plenty of podcasts, including Professor Blastoff and This American Life . . . for this trip I have a smartphone loaded with stuff, and so here is an incomplete list, for posterity, of how I killed twenty hours alone, driving from Jersey to Topeka:

1) Squarepusher Go Plastic-- yikes, like being inside a broken computer;

2) Slate Money;

3) Paul F Tompkins Impersonal;

4) Norm Macdonald Me Doing Standup;

5) Wilco Summerteeth;

6) Beck Odelay;

7) The Grateful Dead Live/ Dead;

8) Jimmy Smith All the Way;

9) Shut Up You Fucking Baby David Cross;

10) Maria Bamford Ask Me About My New God;

11) The Replacements Tim;

12) Chris Rock Never Scared;

13) Christopher Titus Norman Rockwell is Burning;

14) several episodes of Planet Money;

15) several episodes of Vox's The Weeds;

16) an episode of Invisibilia;

17) some Rush Limbaugh . . . when discussing the Orlando alligator incident, he claimed that "animals don't think" and "alligators don't think" and "your dog doesn't think," which flies in the face of all current research, and then he ranted about how there is no gun show loophole and that the Obama administration is redacting the fact that the Orlando shooting was connected to Islamic terrorism because the administration doesn't want to offend Muslims;

18) Husker Du New Day Rising;

19) a fantastic episode of This American Life: Tell Me I'm Fat;

in other notes, I did NOT stop at "The World's Largest Wind Chime" and I had a delicious burger and two local pints of beer at Henry T's in Topeka.

The Test 54: Name That Comic


This week on The Test, Stacey demonstrates her uncanny ability to recognize stand-up comics by voice alone . . . Cunningham claims to have the same ability, but you'll have to be the judge on her uncanniness; I provide the clips, see if you can identify the comic and theme (and, most importantly, see if you can keep up with Stacey).

Sucking It Forward

In preparation for our cross country trip, I took the van to Glow Express Car Wash on Route 27 in Edison, so I could vacuum all the dirt, leaves, sand, turf pellets, and garbage from the floor and the mats (as we would be tracking in new and exotic dirt, leaves, sand, and garbage on our trip and I didn't want the fancy new vacation debris to get confused with the old Jersey debris) and I pulled in front of the second vacuum on the right of the dumpster (this is important) and inserted four quarters and the vacuum was totally lame, barely any sucking power, a waste of a dollar . . . but I sucked up what I could and then switched to the vacuum directly to the right of the dumpster and this is the vacuum you want, it's a beast (at one point, when I slung it over my shoulder so I could proceed to the next section of the car, it attached itself to my back, like a giant sucking python, and I had trouble removing it from my shirt) and then as I was pulling out, job completed, a woman was pulling in front of the lame vacuum, and instead of letting her suffer the way I did, I opened my window and told her the deal and she thanked me profusely and that was my good deed for the day.

Fantastic Moments in Coaching Part 1

Last night, we ran travel soccer tryouts for the U-9 kids, and I was in charge of organizing the drills and games; I had lots of help though-- several other coaches and some youngsters-- and things were going smoothly, until I asked the twenty-one first and second graders to form a circle inside a big square made of cones . . . apparently, little kids CANNOT organize themselves into a circle: they kept getting into a weird lumpy line and then I would say, "That's a line! Not a circle!" and then they would bunch into the corner of the square (as far away from me as possible) and I was trying to send kids to either side and then have the rest fill-in and the other coaches were helping and the kid-assistants were trying to help, but they were laughing so hard they weren't of much use and finally a mom stepped in-- thank God-- and had them all hold hands, so that they formed a ring, and then they all took two giant steps back and we did the drill (which was a mess, and it works great with kids a little bit older) and when I told my wife, who teaches elementary school, she said that it's developmental, little kids can't make a circle until they get to fourth grade . . . and sometimes, they have trouble beyond that: as evidenced by this this fantastic moment in teaching.

5 Soccer Games and a Wake

I apologize in advance for being a one-upper, but I definitely one-upped Four Weddings and a Funeral yesterday: I watched five soccer matches and attended a wake . . .

1) at 9 AM, while entering grades and checking email, I watched England vs. Wales . . . I was rooting for Wales-- I love to see England choke in these big tournaments-- and England won 2-1;

2) at noon, while eating a delicious five dollar lunch special (chicken cheesesteak) at The General Saloon, I watched Ukraine vs. Northern Ireland, and I was rooting for the Ukraine, in honor of my buddy Roman . . . and the Ukraine lost;

3) we then attended my friend, co-worker, and podcasting partner Stacey's father-in-law's wake;

4) at 3 PM, while I was getting my kids ready for my son's travel team semi-final game, we watched Poland tie Germany . . . I was rooting for Poland, of course . . . no one but the Germans root for Germany;

5) at 6 PM, I watched my son's semi-final game . . . they had a heroic win against a better team in the quarter finals, and they went up 1-0 on this team, who didn't look quite as skillful but was more organized, and my son's team eventually lost 2-1 . . . and I was rooting for my son's team, of course, so that was the toughest loss of the day;

6) at 9:30 PM, I watched the US beat Ecuador, and I couldn't lose because I was rooting for both sides, as I'm a US citizen of course, but I have some Ecuadorian players on my soccer team who were decked out in full Ecuador gear at my son's game and I'm a big fan of the Galapagos Islands . . . so a 2-1 US win in a fast-paced game was all I could ask for . . . and, as a bonus, before and during the game we listened to Phil, who is a soccer guy, sing and play music on his guitar and they set up cornhole in the back room of Pino's, so it was an excellent end to a soccer-filled day of mindless rooting, which was briefly interrupted by a reminder of our ephemeral mortality.
A New Sentence Every Day, Hand Crafted from the Finest Corinthian Leather.