Recently, our family celebrated a major celebration, a dream come true. I know some look at it as a whatever, but we are truly feeling blessed. When you hit this point in life, you know you've made it. Indeed, you guessed it, we get to pay monthly HOA dues now!
Well, that's not exactly what we're celebrating, just a by-product a la rat shit in hot dogs. No, we bought a house! At last we can pay for our own damn repairs instead of calling the landlord and hiding our cats so we don't get kicked out. At last we can pay for water, garbage, and sewage services! Heaven knows that is a dream come true!
And do not get me wrong, I am glad to be rid of apartment living! I lived in apartments for 16 long years in Las Vegas. For 4 years, I lived next to Nellis Air Force Base where I got a free air show every weekend whether I wanted one or not. That was essentially my "bachelor pad". After I met Vickie, we moved into an apartment together much farther west. That was actually my favorite place. There was plenty of room, we decorated it to make it our home, there were plenty of stores and eateries close to us, and, most importantly, it was where we brought Natalie home after she was born. Over time, the complex was becoming more Section 8 and some nasty elements moved in.
In August of 2010, we learned the landlord had been foreclosed on and we were forced to move. We probably could have taken a bit more time to look but in our stress we picked a place that was in a better neighborhood farther west but had far less space. I was also in a new school that year and that wasn't going well. If our marriage ever had a low point, that year was it. Luckily, we let the lease have its year and then we moved even farther west, almost running smack into the Spring Mountains. This apartment would be our home for almost 7 whole years. It was where Natalie would grow from a toddler into a Kindergartener and then into a 4th grader. That kind of time is priceless! I was also in a new school when we moved there so October 2011 was a definite fresh start for us.
In April of this year, I calculated that I had paid landlords about $150,000 in rent over 16 years and felt that was a little much to not be allowed to have pets. So, we hooked up (not LITERALLY you pervs!) with our real estate agent friend and a loan officer and got hold of a loan along with a house itself, and moved in during Labor Day weekend.
Now I know that just sounds like a great Hallmark movie tear-jerkoff that producers are salivating over, casting Candace Cameron Bure (or Creme Brulee) as Vickie, William Shatner as me, and the dead blonde girl from Poltergeist as Natalie, but there are some drawbacks to owning a house! For one thing, you pay something called a mortgage, which turns out to be almost double the apartment rent, making Top Ramen look like gourmet cooking for us! Ha, just kidding, but it does limit the eating out we do.
Another drawback has to be described. If you have ever seen the 1985 Oscar-winning tragedy "The Money Pit", you remember that Tom Hanks and Shelley Long played an annoying couple who buy a seemingly great house only to discover the owner who sold them the house was Herb Tarlek from WKRP and the house was indeed far less liveable than a Motel 6 shower.
Well, that does exaggerate our home's crisis, but I will say that the home was certainly dirtier and dingier once we got the keys. I have never seen windows and window tracks provide shelter to dust bunnies...no, not bunnies, ELEPHANTS! And mind you, this is not my first house-moving rodeo. My mom always came into the house and gave at least the kitchen a good wiping and dusting before moving day. Of course, 2 of our homes were brand-new when we moved in so she really only had to clean up a few times. She would have fainted with this one.
If you are familiar at all with the classic show "Leave It To Beaver", where the Beav uttered "Gee, Wally" about 200 times when he didn't grasp life's realities, you might remember that the Cleavers moved into a new house between seasons 2 and 3. We saw the Cleavers getting ready to move in one episode, and fully settled in home 2 by the next episode.
All I can say to this neat transition is, WHAT THE HELL!!! Why couldn't they show the realities? I would have loved a scene like this before the move.
June: Ward, when you're through being tough on the Beaver, could you please help me pack the kitchen dishes?
Ward: Damnit, June! I worked a full day today. Hell, lunch with Fred Rutherford is an eternity as it is! I want to sit down, smoke a pipe, and beat the crap out of the boys for something
June: Well excuse me, Mr. Whatever the Hell You Do During the Day! I've been in my damn pearls and dress because you won't let me wear anything else, and packing up all of our china. The least you can do is wrap a few things and put them in a box. 1 DAMN BOX, WARD! That's all I ask!
Ward: Well, what have you been doing all damn day besides watching your soap operas? And what's for dinner? I'm hungry!
June: You did NOT just go there, did you? You did! Get your ass in here and pack a box, NOW! If you don't you won't be getting any other boxes soon if you get my drift!
Ah if only they talked like that on TV in 1959! But wait, what about move-in? Would Ward be a good lad and help June get things put away or would he leave her to do it while he did 7 martini lunches?
Ward: Hi June!
June: Don't hi June me! Where are the cloth napkins?
Ward: In my desk drawer, hang on.
June: I already looked there! Right next to that stag reel Fred lent to you!
Ward (angry): Woman, you went into my study without my permission?!
June: Yes, and I also saw the Playboy in the "secret' drawer.
But no, the Cleavers were too nice and clean for real talk...oh well. Gotta go, time for a Cleaver-style dinner in our new dining room...minus the pearls and 3 piece suit!
Sunday, October 28, 2018
Thursday, August 2, 2018
The Incredible Snowflake.
McDonald's associate Clarence Peters, searching for a way to salt the fries in peace before he's asked to clean the dining area, when a sudden splash from the mop bucket into the fry grease creates an explosion that alters Clarence's body chemistry. Now, whenever he experiences stress or angst at home or school or work, a startling metamorphosis (CHANGE for the millenials) occurs. The creature is driven by neurosis and starts whining and crying like the world's biggest wuss. He is pursued by nobody...seriously, who wants be around that shit? THE INCREDIBLE SNOWFLAKE!
Earlier this summer I was reunited with an old buddy from Pennsylvania. We had a great time talking about the past and old friends, but what really struck me was how much I've changed in 20 odd years, and not all for the better. There's a toughness that is hard to describe in people from PA, Jersey, and New York. I think Bostonians have it as well. It doesn't mean looking for a fight necessarily, it doesn't even mean not giving a shit. It just comes down to not advertising your problems and making a victim and martyr of yourself.
I was not the toughest guy by far, but I didn't do therapy or cry on my parents' shoulders all the time. Most of the time I internalized it all. Not that it was the healthiest option, I just had no decent outlet. Living out west all my adult life, I've found myself among many people who whine and make their problems known and prioritized above others. It's catching when you don't have a few people to counterbalance that, and I am afraid that I have transformed into what I call a snowflake as well. I am working to reverse it.
The problem is relatively simple to fix, you might just need to slap yourself a few times before going down the checklist.
1. I fucked up. Will I
a) admit it and fix it
b) stress, overeat, and lash out at the family for no real reason while the problem remains unsolved
2. Someone cut in front of me in traffic. Will I
a) cuss and let it be
b) stress, fume, and curse myself for being victimized....maybe call the police to find this dastardly criminal
3. The landlord raises the rent by $200. Will I
a) curse the landlord and his dogs, then economize on extras to make it work
b) stress, fume, and bemoan my never getting a raise
4. I get pulled over by a cop for speeding. Will I
a) follow the guy's directions and say yes sir or ma'am and cooperate
b) act all nervous so that I'm tased?
The a answers are to strive for. The b answers are self-damaging. I've done the b choices with no satisfaction, particularly on #1.
I am changing grades this year. Among that, our numbers are low and we are losing up to 7 or 8 staff members. Here's the thing. Do I go in there and do my job to the best of my ability or do I get anxious and await the next shoe to drop? The second option is no way to live.
There is another aspect to being a snowflake, or at least a different classification: shouting FOUL at every little thing that happens to you or your family, threatening to sue, whatever...basically deflecting all responsibility. I'm not saying to not take action if there was serious injury or true injustice. I'm talking about petty crap.
Here's a perfect example. Last year, my daughter got in trouble for kicking another student via peer pressure. She got suspended for the day and lost field trip privileges. Once again, this was choice time. Did I
a) tell her she's lucky to get off that easy and take her punishment
b) raise a stink that it was unfair and she promises never to do it again
I did the a choice. She knew it was wrong and she won't learn if I bail her out.
OK, public service announcement over, back to Clarence!
Pilot: After the soap/grease injury, Clarence is in class, trying to take notes while Bill Morgan is teaching foreign relations. The head of the water polo team starts flicking the back of Clarence's head. Clarence turns and says loudly but lamely, "Stop it!" The asshole behind him doesn't stop and the flicking gets worse.
The guy next to Clarence whispers, "Just pop him one!" Clarence shakes his head in stress, just wishing the guy would stop. As Bill Morgan prattles on about folkways and customs and mores in Canada, Clarence's skin starts turning a pinkish teal (imagine THAT one in makeup!) and actually gets skinnier.
He stands up and shouts, "Mr. Morgan, Biff (every show needs a Biff) won't stop bothering me! I'm trying to concentrate but he won't stop!"
Morgan tries to stifle a smile...actually he always looks like he's stifling humor...and says, "Okay. Biff, knock it off."
Biff nods, smiles, shakes his head at the wimp in front of him, and resolves to give Clarence a swirlie in the toilet later. But Clarence keeps shaking and crying and complaining about the unfairness of life, even throwing in his attorney father in a possible lawsuit. Morgan shrugs, asks if Clarence needs to visit the counselor, gets no response, then moves on to Mongolian folkways before the bell rings.
In the hall, Clarence turns back to normal. Biff passes him and whispers, "You're dead meat!' Clarence just keeps to himself on the way to study hall, depressing piano music playing as the camera pans out.
OK OK, I know what you're all thinking. And no, Clarence is not me 30 years ago. I was a tad wittier and rolling with it better than that! As for the show, I cannot see it lasting more than 7 episodes. However, the last episode should resolve Clarence's affliction via coaching and tough support and perhaps removing a giant arachnid from his ass surgically.
In short, if we are to survive as a nation, in our family lives, our jobs, all of it, we need to toughen up and stop the whining and martyrdom and blaming others for your problems. And stay out of the fry grease!
Earlier this summer I was reunited with an old buddy from Pennsylvania. We had a great time talking about the past and old friends, but what really struck me was how much I've changed in 20 odd years, and not all for the better. There's a toughness that is hard to describe in people from PA, Jersey, and New York. I think Bostonians have it as well. It doesn't mean looking for a fight necessarily, it doesn't even mean not giving a shit. It just comes down to not advertising your problems and making a victim and martyr of yourself.
I was not the toughest guy by far, but I didn't do therapy or cry on my parents' shoulders all the time. Most of the time I internalized it all. Not that it was the healthiest option, I just had no decent outlet. Living out west all my adult life, I've found myself among many people who whine and make their problems known and prioritized above others. It's catching when you don't have a few people to counterbalance that, and I am afraid that I have transformed into what I call a snowflake as well. I am working to reverse it.
The problem is relatively simple to fix, you might just need to slap yourself a few times before going down the checklist.
1. I fucked up. Will I
a) admit it and fix it
b) stress, overeat, and lash out at the family for no real reason while the problem remains unsolved
2. Someone cut in front of me in traffic. Will I
a) cuss and let it be
b) stress, fume, and curse myself for being victimized....maybe call the police to find this dastardly criminal
3. The landlord raises the rent by $200. Will I
a) curse the landlord and his dogs, then economize on extras to make it work
b) stress, fume, and bemoan my never getting a raise
4. I get pulled over by a cop for speeding. Will I
a) follow the guy's directions and say yes sir or ma'am and cooperate
b) act all nervous so that I'm tased?
The a answers are to strive for. The b answers are self-damaging. I've done the b choices with no satisfaction, particularly on #1.
I am changing grades this year. Among that, our numbers are low and we are losing up to 7 or 8 staff members. Here's the thing. Do I go in there and do my job to the best of my ability or do I get anxious and await the next shoe to drop? The second option is no way to live.
There is another aspect to being a snowflake, or at least a different classification: shouting FOUL at every little thing that happens to you or your family, threatening to sue, whatever...basically deflecting all responsibility. I'm not saying to not take action if there was serious injury or true injustice. I'm talking about petty crap.
Here's a perfect example. Last year, my daughter got in trouble for kicking another student via peer pressure. She got suspended for the day and lost field trip privileges. Once again, this was choice time. Did I
a) tell her she's lucky to get off that easy and take her punishment
b) raise a stink that it was unfair and she promises never to do it again
I did the a choice. She knew it was wrong and she won't learn if I bail her out.
OK, public service announcement over, back to Clarence!
Pilot: After the soap/grease injury, Clarence is in class, trying to take notes while Bill Morgan is teaching foreign relations. The head of the water polo team starts flicking the back of Clarence's head. Clarence turns and says loudly but lamely, "Stop it!" The asshole behind him doesn't stop and the flicking gets worse.
The guy next to Clarence whispers, "Just pop him one!" Clarence shakes his head in stress, just wishing the guy would stop. As Bill Morgan prattles on about folkways and customs and mores in Canada, Clarence's skin starts turning a pinkish teal (imagine THAT one in makeup!) and actually gets skinnier.
He stands up and shouts, "Mr. Morgan, Biff (every show needs a Biff) won't stop bothering me! I'm trying to concentrate but he won't stop!"
Morgan tries to stifle a smile...actually he always looks like he's stifling humor...and says, "Okay. Biff, knock it off."
Biff nods, smiles, shakes his head at the wimp in front of him, and resolves to give Clarence a swirlie in the toilet later. But Clarence keeps shaking and crying and complaining about the unfairness of life, even throwing in his attorney father in a possible lawsuit. Morgan shrugs, asks if Clarence needs to visit the counselor, gets no response, then moves on to Mongolian folkways before the bell rings.
In the hall, Clarence turns back to normal. Biff passes him and whispers, "You're dead meat!' Clarence just keeps to himself on the way to study hall, depressing piano music playing as the camera pans out.
OK OK, I know what you're all thinking. And no, Clarence is not me 30 years ago. I was a tad wittier and rolling with it better than that! As for the show, I cannot see it lasting more than 7 episodes. However, the last episode should resolve Clarence's affliction via coaching and tough support and perhaps removing a giant arachnid from his ass surgically.
In short, if we are to survive as a nation, in our family lives, our jobs, all of it, we need to toughen up and stop the whining and martyrdom and blaming others for your problems. And stay out of the fry grease!
Thursday, July 5, 2018
A Christmas To Puke For
Hooray, it is July! And we all know what that means, right? Oh no, I don't mean that middle of summer outdoor activity crap. Who needs barbecues, pools, road trips, and bike rides when you can sit and watch Hallmark's Christmas in July run of holiday sap so thick you need a direct insulin injection before the first ad break?
Well, as my wife loves these flicks, you know who is subjected to them as well! My blood sugar levels are way out of control as of now, I almost took a Metformin tablet as a last resort before I fell into a diabetic coma!
On the other hand, it seems to me that these movies are fairly quickly cranked out. The basic formula is always there: disgruntlement, lost love, tragedy, a touch of magic, a happy ending, and an endless supply of ex soap stars and unheard-of-in-America Canadian actors. Occasionally they toss in a really old face that only people born before 1980 would recognize, just to test us.
Coming soon: Bryan Moore's entry that Hallmark will have no choice but to rush into production, especially since I'm holding the sap department's firstborn hostage. This is a sure-win!
Act 1: In the town of Darl, located in some snowy yet unnamed state in order to hide its obvious Canadian locale, everybody is just miserable. The mayor, played by William Shatner, is missing a piece to his jigsaw puzzle, and is making his whole staff search for it. His assistant's assistant Heather (mystery Canadian 1), is so full of problems that I pondered making this a mini-series! She doesn't know her mom, her 3 kids are nice but pretty uninteresting so far, and she let her college sweetheart Steve go decades earlier due to mistaking his cold sore for full-fledged herpes! On top of that, her "uncle" (Martin Short) is the eccentric owner of Darl's Chickens, the local diner. For some reason, the diner is about to be shut down by mega-poultry king Bluto's.
Act 2: The mayor's office is all scurrying to find the puzzle piece as the whole town just descends into a general hell. Steve, the handsome hatchet man for Bluto's (ex soap star 1), arrives in town and literally bumps into Heather on the sidewalk. Heather, thinking she has now gotten herpes, blasts Steve verbally in front of the entire town. At home, her 3 boring brats climb all over her as she ponders if she was too hard on Steve as well as worrying about her "uncle" and the diner closure. Insulin injection 1 should be about now.
Act 3: The mayor threatens to fire the whole staff if the piece is not found by the week's end. Heather's direct boss (bland blond middle-aged Canadian actor 1) scolds her for not finding it herself. She threatens to quit, but the mayor admires her spunk and makes her his personal puzzle assistant. She runs into Steve at Darl's Chickens and reluctantly agrees to sit with him for a chicken lunch. He tries to educate her on herpes 1 being a lot different than herpes 2, but as she opted out of high school health class, she is pretty clueless. Her "uncle" cheerfully dismisses the idea that he's about to lose his business after Steve boasts that he will succeed, after which 5 cold sores mysteriously appear around Steve's mouth. Heather giggles as we fade to ad.
Act 4: Convinced Steve needs help, Bluto (played by Falconetti himself, William Smith), arrives in town to physically and mentally overpower the "uncle". However, he finds that he is out of his league, so he decides to create a hysteria of rabbititis infesting the chickens. Before she can worry about that, Heather finds herself walking along the edge of some pond lamenting to nobody in particular about her lame kids and lacking love life. Steve watches creepily from the bushes, scratching at his cold sores as he realizes what an ass he's been. Insulin shot 2 here.
Act 5: Darl's Chickens is officially closed pending a health department investigation. Steve protests to Bluto, who doesn't give a crap about protests. The mayor makes a personal plea to Bluto to back off, but Bluto, having heard about the puzzle piece, threatens to burn it unless he gets his way. The "uncle" merely smiles in his creepy way the whole time. Steve apologizes for his actions and attitude to him, and the cold sores quickly disappear. The next morning, Steve stands up to his boss and reveals the false rabbititis ploy to the health department. Steve is fired and punched just for being a sap, but the mayor hires him on the spot. All looks like it will be happy until one of Heather's unnamed twerps disapepars.
Act 6: The whole damn town looks for the nameless dweeb in vain. Thankfully, Steve's blind 3-legged dog Lucky finds the kid in a well and carries the gender nonspecific child (for all you PC snowflakes out there!) to safety. One of the other kids, hanging in the mayor's office for no reason, finds the missing piece on the floor. Steve and Heather get engaged, provided they don't kiss on the mouth ever. The creepy "uncle" then reveals that he's really Heather's mom and magically transforms from Martin Short into Meredith Baxter, giving some outlandish excuse and sob story that nobody outside of Hallmark would buy into. Bluto decides he can compete with Darl's Chickens on his own without dirty tricks. Suddenly, the town Christmas tree lights up, reminding us that it is a CHRISTMAS movie! The geek threesome suddenly find mysterious gifts under a mysterious tree that wasn't there in act 2, everyone laughs one of those freeze-frame CHiPS laughs that no audience ever bought, and it is a wrap!
I think this movie will be a smash...as in people will smash their TV screens after just 1 viewing.
Well, as my wife loves these flicks, you know who is subjected to them as well! My blood sugar levels are way out of control as of now, I almost took a Metformin tablet as a last resort before I fell into a diabetic coma!
On the other hand, it seems to me that these movies are fairly quickly cranked out. The basic formula is always there: disgruntlement, lost love, tragedy, a touch of magic, a happy ending, and an endless supply of ex soap stars and unheard-of-in-America Canadian actors. Occasionally they toss in a really old face that only people born before 1980 would recognize, just to test us.
Coming soon: Bryan Moore's entry that Hallmark will have no choice but to rush into production, especially since I'm holding the sap department's firstborn hostage. This is a sure-win!
Act 1: In the town of Darl, located in some snowy yet unnamed state in order to hide its obvious Canadian locale, everybody is just miserable. The mayor, played by William Shatner, is missing a piece to his jigsaw puzzle, and is making his whole staff search for it. His assistant's assistant Heather (mystery Canadian 1), is so full of problems that I pondered making this a mini-series! She doesn't know her mom, her 3 kids are nice but pretty uninteresting so far, and she let her college sweetheart Steve go decades earlier due to mistaking his cold sore for full-fledged herpes! On top of that, her "uncle" (Martin Short) is the eccentric owner of Darl's Chickens, the local diner. For some reason, the diner is about to be shut down by mega-poultry king Bluto's.
Act 2: The mayor's office is all scurrying to find the puzzle piece as the whole town just descends into a general hell. Steve, the handsome hatchet man for Bluto's (ex soap star 1), arrives in town and literally bumps into Heather on the sidewalk. Heather, thinking she has now gotten herpes, blasts Steve verbally in front of the entire town. At home, her 3 boring brats climb all over her as she ponders if she was too hard on Steve as well as worrying about her "uncle" and the diner closure. Insulin injection 1 should be about now.
Act 3: The mayor threatens to fire the whole staff if the piece is not found by the week's end. Heather's direct boss (bland blond middle-aged Canadian actor 1) scolds her for not finding it herself. She threatens to quit, but the mayor admires her spunk and makes her his personal puzzle assistant. She runs into Steve at Darl's Chickens and reluctantly agrees to sit with him for a chicken lunch. He tries to educate her on herpes 1 being a lot different than herpes 2, but as she opted out of high school health class, she is pretty clueless. Her "uncle" cheerfully dismisses the idea that he's about to lose his business after Steve boasts that he will succeed, after which 5 cold sores mysteriously appear around Steve's mouth. Heather giggles as we fade to ad.
Act 4: Convinced Steve needs help, Bluto (played by Falconetti himself, William Smith), arrives in town to physically and mentally overpower the "uncle". However, he finds that he is out of his league, so he decides to create a hysteria of rabbititis infesting the chickens. Before she can worry about that, Heather finds herself walking along the edge of some pond lamenting to nobody in particular about her lame kids and lacking love life. Steve watches creepily from the bushes, scratching at his cold sores as he realizes what an ass he's been. Insulin shot 2 here.
Act 5: Darl's Chickens is officially closed pending a health department investigation. Steve protests to Bluto, who doesn't give a crap about protests. The mayor makes a personal plea to Bluto to back off, but Bluto, having heard about the puzzle piece, threatens to burn it unless he gets his way. The "uncle" merely smiles in his creepy way the whole time. Steve apologizes for his actions and attitude to him, and the cold sores quickly disappear. The next morning, Steve stands up to his boss and reveals the false rabbititis ploy to the health department. Steve is fired and punched just for being a sap, but the mayor hires him on the spot. All looks like it will be happy until one of Heather's unnamed twerps disapepars.
Act 6: The whole damn town looks for the nameless dweeb in vain. Thankfully, Steve's blind 3-legged dog Lucky finds the kid in a well and carries the gender nonspecific child (for all you PC snowflakes out there!) to safety. One of the other kids, hanging in the mayor's office for no reason, finds the missing piece on the floor. Steve and Heather get engaged, provided they don't kiss on the mouth ever. The creepy "uncle" then reveals that he's really Heather's mom and magically transforms from Martin Short into Meredith Baxter, giving some outlandish excuse and sob story that nobody outside of Hallmark would buy into. Bluto decides he can compete with Darl's Chickens on his own without dirty tricks. Suddenly, the town Christmas tree lights up, reminding us that it is a CHRISTMAS movie! The geek threesome suddenly find mysterious gifts under a mysterious tree that wasn't there in act 2, everyone laughs one of those freeze-frame CHiPS laughs that no audience ever bought, and it is a wrap!
I think this movie will be a smash...as in people will smash their TV screens after just 1 viewing.
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Test Patterns, Take Me Away!
As I sit in my computer chair trying to come up with some clever bullshit to fill a few paragraphs so that my head's trash can gets emptied on time, I think back to the days, rather nights, when I would stay up late. The last program on a certain channel was over, the National Anthem would play, then the station would either go to static snow or to a test pattern with an EBS test-like beep.
No longer. I mean, I am still thinking of those days fondly, but they are no longer here. The programmers of stations both local and cable decided that money was being wasted during those non-programmed hours, much like Federal money is wasted regulating the hole circumference in Swiss cheese. No, instead of glorious white noise, we have what is known as "paid programming".
We all know, of course, that ALL programming pays or gets paid in one way or another. The normal term for this money-making gimmick is infomercials, a disgusting amalgamation mixing information and commercials. On any given night, I can flip through a few channels and find an infomercial lasting 30 minutes telling me the advantage of buying a 40-CD set of songs "digitally remastered" that I already own apparently unmastered. I can also find infomercials trying to sell to me, for a ransom of $29.95 per minute, kitchen appliances I will never find a use for.
Well, by golly, if it's that easy, then Mr. Moore has a few infomercials guaranteed to not only make the station money, but also maybe replace the sun visor on the passenger side of my car, it's a win-win deal!
1. TIRED OF YOUR COLLECTION OF GOOD MUSIC? WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO HEAR SOME USELESS CRAP FOR A CHANGE? HOLD ON TO YOUR PLASTIC SOFA COVERS EVERYONE! COMING TO YOU FROM LIMETIFE RECORDS IS THE LONG AWAITED RELEASE OF THE MOST CURIOUS AND UNWELCOME PAIRING OF MEDIOCRITY EVER TO HIT THE HIGHEST FREQUENCY ON THE AM DIAL. IT'S RICK ASTLEY AND SHA NA NA TOGETHER, WHY, WE HAVE NO DAMN CLUE! YES IT'S RICK ASTLEY,, THE ARTIST WHOSE ASS WAS CREAMED BY BANANARAMA ON A WEEKLY BASIS, BELTING OUT HITS WITH SHA NA NA, THE GROUP WHO SOMEHOW CAPITALIZED ON AN APPEARANCE IN GREASE WITH A 4-YEAR SYNDICATED PROGRAM NEVER AIRED AGAIN AFTER 1981! YES, IT'S ALL HERE, ALL 6 SONGS NOT EVEN DIGITALLY REMASTERED BECAUSE WE DIDN'T KNOW THE MASTERS WERE EVER IN EXISTENCE IN THE FIRST PLACE! PRESENTING TO YOU FOR ONLY THE NEXT 5 MINUTES, RICK ASTELY AND SHA NA NA "I'M NEVER GONNA GIVE UP YOUR WITCH DOCTOR". HOW MUCH WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO PAY FOR THIS DUNG? $59.99? $29.99? HELL NO, MY MOM WOULDN'T EVEN GIVE ME THAT TO SHUT ME UP! NO, THIS COLLECTION IS BEING OFFERED AT THE LOW PRICE OF $1.99! YES YOU READ ME RIGHT,, $1.99! THIS WAS DUMPED IN MY GARAGE JUST 10 MINUTES AGO AND I HEARD IT AND MY EARS ARE STILL BLEEDING FROM DEPRESSION! YES, $1.99 WILL GET YOU THIS 6 SONG COLLECTION! I'LL EVEN PAY THE POSTAGE! GET IT WHILE IT'S STILL ONLY 20 FEET FROM THE TRASH COMPACTOR! ORDER NOW! PLEASE!
2. REMEMBER THE GINSU KNIVES? THOSE WONDERFUL BLADES OF SHARPLY HONED STEEL THAT WERE ABLE TO, FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON, CUT THROUGH A SOUP CAN? WELL THROW THAT 40-YEAR OLD CRAP AWAY, WE HAVE SOMETHING BETTER! HOW MUCH BETTER? DON'T RUSH ME, BOY! (cut to a Honda Civic in the mall parking lot). SEE THIS CAR? ITS LICENSE PLATE SAYS "CLASSIC ROD" JUST BECAUSE IT'S FROM 1990! DOESN'T THAT PISS YOU OFF? ISN'T IT A TRAVESTY THAT THIS FAMILY SEDAN GETS A RATING OF CLASSIC UP THERE WITH A 1966 MUSTANG? WELL I HAVE THE TOOL FOR YOU, THE WASABI-SAN 3000! YES THAT'S RIGHT, THE WASABI-SAN 3000! THIS FINEST CRAFTMANSHIP, COURTESY OF A COMBINED TEAM OF JAPANESE ENGINEERS AND JEDI MASTERS, HAS LASER PRECISION SO PRECISE THAT IT CAN CUT THROUGH THIS 20TH CENTURY TRAVESTY! WATCH CLOSELY AS MY ASSISTANT TAKES THIS SIMPLE PARING KNIFE AND CUTS RIGHT THROUGH THE CHASSIS OF THIS HONDA CIVIC! BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! IT CAN CUT THROUGH SEMIS! AIR FORCE 1! THE SPACE SHUTTLE! FORT KNOX! WE ONLY CHOSE THE CIVIC BECAUSE IT WAS ABANDONED BY A CARJACKER JUST YESTERDAY! HOW MUCH WOULD YOU EXPECT TO PAY FOR THIS FINE EXAMPLE OF INTERPLANETARY CRAFTMANSHIP? $29.99? $129.99? NO WAY JO-SE! THIS POTENTIAL MUGGING TOOL IS WORTH SO MUCH MORE, AND THAT IS WHAT WE'LL CHARGE YOU! THINK FIRST-BORN! BUT FEAR NOT, THE WASABI-SAN WILL PAY FOR ITSELF OVER TIME! JUST THINK OF THAT NEIGHBOR WHO'S HAD YOUR DRILL FOR 4 WEEKS! THINK OF THE NEIGHBOR THAT'S BEEN DRILLING YOUR WIFE! THINK OF THAT DENTIST WHO DRILLED THE WRONG TOOTH LAST YEAR! PAYBACK IS AT HAND! ORDER NOW!
3. TIRED OF BEING DEAF? TIRED OF HEARING AIDS THAT COST A FORTUNE AND DON'T LET YOU EVEN HEAR YOUR HUSBAND SNORING? LET ME ASK YOU THIS: CAN YOU DECIPHER MORSE CODE? NO? WHO CAN? WELL FEAR NOT! COMING FROM THE TECHNOLOGY OF MALWART ENGINEERS WHO COULDN'T EVEN CUT IT AT IKEA COMES THE HEARING AID OF HEARING AIDS! YES, THAT IS RIGHT! NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR YOUR HUSBAND SNORE, NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR THE NEIGHBOR'S DOG BARKING WHILE THE NEIGHBOR SCREWS HIS WIFE,NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR ANNOYING INFOMERCIALS LIKE THIS ONE...NOT ONLY...WHERE WAS I? OH YES! NOW, FOR THE FIRST TIME, THIS HEARING AID WILL ALSO LET YOU DECIPHER MORSE CODE! ISN'T THAT EXCITING? IF YOU'RE ON A NAVAL VESSEL AND THE CAPTAIN IS SENDING A CODED MESSAGE TO ANOTHER SHIP, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO ACT CLUELESSLY DEAF AS THE MESSAGE IS INSTANTLY DECODED FOR YOU TO TAKE TO ANY FOREIGN EMBASSY AND REQUEST ASYLUM! IT'S THAT EASY! HOW MUCH DO YOU EXPECT TO PAY FOR THIS DEVICE? $39.99? NAH, YOU'LL PAY THAT IN THE FIRST 5 MINUTES ALONE! NO, THIS BABY IS WORTH 10 TIMES THAT AND THEREFORE WE'LL TACK ON AN ADDITIONAL $50 JUST BECAUSE WE'RE GREEDY BASTARDS! BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! IF YOU ACT IN THE NEXT 48 SECONDS, WE'LL THROW IN A BOTTLE OF AUNT JEMIMA SYRUP ABSOLUTELY ALMOST FREE, JUST 75 CENTS MORE! ORDER NOW! I SAID RIGHT NOW YOU DEAF BASTARD!
So you see, my financial future is planned quite well. So well that after I am done being sued by every conceivable consumer advocate group, I might be able to afford half of that sun visor. So maybe those test patterns actually protected us rather than wasted good money. Well by golly if you order in the next minute, I'll send you a test pattern absolutely free, just pay the $75 shipping and handling.
No longer. I mean, I am still thinking of those days fondly, but they are no longer here. The programmers of stations both local and cable decided that money was being wasted during those non-programmed hours, much like Federal money is wasted regulating the hole circumference in Swiss cheese. No, instead of glorious white noise, we have what is known as "paid programming".
We all know, of course, that ALL programming pays or gets paid in one way or another. The normal term for this money-making gimmick is infomercials, a disgusting amalgamation mixing information and commercials. On any given night, I can flip through a few channels and find an infomercial lasting 30 minutes telling me the advantage of buying a 40-CD set of songs "digitally remastered" that I already own apparently unmastered. I can also find infomercials trying to sell to me, for a ransom of $29.95 per minute, kitchen appliances I will never find a use for.
Well, by golly, if it's that easy, then Mr. Moore has a few infomercials guaranteed to not only make the station money, but also maybe replace the sun visor on the passenger side of my car, it's a win-win deal!
1. TIRED OF YOUR COLLECTION OF GOOD MUSIC? WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO HEAR SOME USELESS CRAP FOR A CHANGE? HOLD ON TO YOUR PLASTIC SOFA COVERS EVERYONE! COMING TO YOU FROM LIMETIFE RECORDS IS THE LONG AWAITED RELEASE OF THE MOST CURIOUS AND UNWELCOME PAIRING OF MEDIOCRITY EVER TO HIT THE HIGHEST FREQUENCY ON THE AM DIAL. IT'S RICK ASTLEY AND SHA NA NA TOGETHER, WHY, WE HAVE NO DAMN CLUE! YES IT'S RICK ASTLEY,, THE ARTIST WHOSE ASS WAS CREAMED BY BANANARAMA ON A WEEKLY BASIS, BELTING OUT HITS WITH SHA NA NA, THE GROUP WHO SOMEHOW CAPITALIZED ON AN APPEARANCE IN GREASE WITH A 4-YEAR SYNDICATED PROGRAM NEVER AIRED AGAIN AFTER 1981! YES, IT'S ALL HERE, ALL 6 SONGS NOT EVEN DIGITALLY REMASTERED BECAUSE WE DIDN'T KNOW THE MASTERS WERE EVER IN EXISTENCE IN THE FIRST PLACE! PRESENTING TO YOU FOR ONLY THE NEXT 5 MINUTES, RICK ASTELY AND SHA NA NA "I'M NEVER GONNA GIVE UP YOUR WITCH DOCTOR". HOW MUCH WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO PAY FOR THIS DUNG? $59.99? $29.99? HELL NO, MY MOM WOULDN'T EVEN GIVE ME THAT TO SHUT ME UP! NO, THIS COLLECTION IS BEING OFFERED AT THE LOW PRICE OF $1.99! YES YOU READ ME RIGHT,, $1.99! THIS WAS DUMPED IN MY GARAGE JUST 10 MINUTES AGO AND I HEARD IT AND MY EARS ARE STILL BLEEDING FROM DEPRESSION! YES, $1.99 WILL GET YOU THIS 6 SONG COLLECTION! I'LL EVEN PAY THE POSTAGE! GET IT WHILE IT'S STILL ONLY 20 FEET FROM THE TRASH COMPACTOR! ORDER NOW! PLEASE!
2. REMEMBER THE GINSU KNIVES? THOSE WONDERFUL BLADES OF SHARPLY HONED STEEL THAT WERE ABLE TO, FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON, CUT THROUGH A SOUP CAN? WELL THROW THAT 40-YEAR OLD CRAP AWAY, WE HAVE SOMETHING BETTER! HOW MUCH BETTER? DON'T RUSH ME, BOY! (cut to a Honda Civic in the mall parking lot). SEE THIS CAR? ITS LICENSE PLATE SAYS "CLASSIC ROD" JUST BECAUSE IT'S FROM 1990! DOESN'T THAT PISS YOU OFF? ISN'T IT A TRAVESTY THAT THIS FAMILY SEDAN GETS A RATING OF CLASSIC UP THERE WITH A 1966 MUSTANG? WELL I HAVE THE TOOL FOR YOU, THE WASABI-SAN 3000! YES THAT'S RIGHT, THE WASABI-SAN 3000! THIS FINEST CRAFTMANSHIP, COURTESY OF A COMBINED TEAM OF JAPANESE ENGINEERS AND JEDI MASTERS, HAS LASER PRECISION SO PRECISE THAT IT CAN CUT THROUGH THIS 20TH CENTURY TRAVESTY! WATCH CLOSELY AS MY ASSISTANT TAKES THIS SIMPLE PARING KNIFE AND CUTS RIGHT THROUGH THE CHASSIS OF THIS HONDA CIVIC! BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! IT CAN CUT THROUGH SEMIS! AIR FORCE 1! THE SPACE SHUTTLE! FORT KNOX! WE ONLY CHOSE THE CIVIC BECAUSE IT WAS ABANDONED BY A CARJACKER JUST YESTERDAY! HOW MUCH WOULD YOU EXPECT TO PAY FOR THIS FINE EXAMPLE OF INTERPLANETARY CRAFTMANSHIP? $29.99? $129.99? NO WAY JO-SE! THIS POTENTIAL MUGGING TOOL IS WORTH SO MUCH MORE, AND THAT IS WHAT WE'LL CHARGE YOU! THINK FIRST-BORN! BUT FEAR NOT, THE WASABI-SAN WILL PAY FOR ITSELF OVER TIME! JUST THINK OF THAT NEIGHBOR WHO'S HAD YOUR DRILL FOR 4 WEEKS! THINK OF THE NEIGHBOR THAT'S BEEN DRILLING YOUR WIFE! THINK OF THAT DENTIST WHO DRILLED THE WRONG TOOTH LAST YEAR! PAYBACK IS AT HAND! ORDER NOW!
3. TIRED OF BEING DEAF? TIRED OF HEARING AIDS THAT COST A FORTUNE AND DON'T LET YOU EVEN HEAR YOUR HUSBAND SNORING? LET ME ASK YOU THIS: CAN YOU DECIPHER MORSE CODE? NO? WHO CAN? WELL FEAR NOT! COMING FROM THE TECHNOLOGY OF MALWART ENGINEERS WHO COULDN'T EVEN CUT IT AT IKEA COMES THE HEARING AID OF HEARING AIDS! YES, THAT IS RIGHT! NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR YOUR HUSBAND SNORE, NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR THE NEIGHBOR'S DOG BARKING WHILE THE NEIGHBOR SCREWS HIS WIFE,NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR ANNOYING INFOMERCIALS LIKE THIS ONE...NOT ONLY...WHERE WAS I? OH YES! NOW, FOR THE FIRST TIME, THIS HEARING AID WILL ALSO LET YOU DECIPHER MORSE CODE! ISN'T THAT EXCITING? IF YOU'RE ON A NAVAL VESSEL AND THE CAPTAIN IS SENDING A CODED MESSAGE TO ANOTHER SHIP, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO ACT CLUELESSLY DEAF AS THE MESSAGE IS INSTANTLY DECODED FOR YOU TO TAKE TO ANY FOREIGN EMBASSY AND REQUEST ASYLUM! IT'S THAT EASY! HOW MUCH DO YOU EXPECT TO PAY FOR THIS DEVICE? $39.99? NAH, YOU'LL PAY THAT IN THE FIRST 5 MINUTES ALONE! NO, THIS BABY IS WORTH 10 TIMES THAT AND THEREFORE WE'LL TACK ON AN ADDITIONAL $50 JUST BECAUSE WE'RE GREEDY BASTARDS! BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! IF YOU ACT IN THE NEXT 48 SECONDS, WE'LL THROW IN A BOTTLE OF AUNT JEMIMA SYRUP ABSOLUTELY ALMOST FREE, JUST 75 CENTS MORE! ORDER NOW! I SAID RIGHT NOW YOU DEAF BASTARD!
So you see, my financial future is planned quite well. So well that after I am done being sued by every conceivable consumer advocate group, I might be able to afford half of that sun visor. So maybe those test patterns actually protected us rather than wasted good money. Well by golly if you order in the next minute, I'll send you a test pattern absolutely free, just pay the $75 shipping and handling.
Monday, June 11, 2018
The June Excursion part 3: Embracing the Mother Road
We recently took a trip to hell. That is, we went from moderately hot Las Vegas to unapologetically hot Mesa, Arizona to visit an old friend of mine form Pennsylvania. I am hoping that we can have more frequent visits either there or here in Vegas, because he and his family are good company representing an eastern PA spirit that I rarely experience anymore.
As fun as the trip was, due to limited funds, we only got to stay a short time. After a breakfast at the Village Inn on Wednesday morning, we said our goodbyes and headed out.
One fact I have noted many times is that Interstate 10 is a good representative of hell. I have been on many stretches of it between western Texas and Santa Monica, California, and have seen time-lapse footage of it between western Texas and eastern Florida. At any given place, 10 goes through urban blight, desert, and flat coastal lowlands. It lacks the majesty of Interstate 70 in the Rockies, the Appalachian tunnel treats of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, or the coastal sights off U.S. 101 in western Oregon. My wife would have to give me caffeine intravenously and crank up days worth of hard metal music to get me all the way across I 10!
10 in the Phoenix area is bizarre, especially downtown. It jettisons I 17 then goes a tunnel, then meets 17 again before heading through suburban metro Phoenix to empty desert toward Los Angeles. I have been on all of it and am not anxious to see it again. So, we headed up I 17.
17 is a pretty interesting road due to its changing terrain. It starts slow, going through Phoenix's northern parts, then heads into empty desert, passing by several saguarro cacti patches. After a bit, it climbs up a few thousand feet, still in the desert but seeing different shades of green among steep climbs and steep descents. Soon, exits appear for Prescott and Sedona, 2 picturesque villages in northern Arizona. Finally, we rise to 7,000 feet and are among the evergreens as 17 passes under I 40 and ends in Flagstaff.
In Flagstaff, we see several modern amenities in a pretty area. The temperature was in the high 70s, a welcome change from hot Phoenix. We saw a sign for business 40/route 66. A smile spread across my face, because the real adventure was about to begin! First, though, we decided to sit and eat at the Galaxy Diner, a place dedicated to classic 50s-60s tunes, good food, and entertainment memorabilia without the gaudiness of a gift shop. That would come later. I had a bowl of cream of potato soup and half a BLT plus cole slaw, just what the soul needed after the desert driving.
One thing I can say about Arizona is that it celebrates its 66 heritage quite well in several towns along its path. Once while driving a friend to the Dallas area, we saw a lot of 66 in Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. California has some of it as well, though its 2 oldest independent stretches are more loaded with empty ghost towns than lively remembrance and celebration.
Out of Flagstaff, 66 continues for a few miles before merging on to I 40, which was fraught with way too much road construction for my liking, though I do appreciate the infrastructure upkeep. After several miles of single lane narrow travel, we exited at Williams. Now this is a town that celebrates its past as a route 66 town! Its historic loop road is filled with inns, restaurants, and shops. It also hosts a pretty cool railway. We will have to visit this town again! We did stop at a souvenir store/historic gas station and picked up a few trinkets. I am generally not for these shops, as they are reminiscent of the Graceland gift shop: full of gawdy merchandise disguised as memorabilia. On this occasion, though, I decided to embrace it, for I had dedicated this day to as much 66 as I could get...and it was just beginning!
Back on 40, it was more construction for a few miles until we reached Ash Fork. This was a good place to top off the tank. Ash Fork is another 66 town, though to a lesser extent than Williams. Where Williams is the gateway to the Grand Canyon, Ash Fork is merely the junction of 66 and old U.S. 89. It is actually more residential in a semi-ghost town way.
Just a few miles down, 66 exits I-40 for the last time until the Colorado River at Topock. For 66 enthusiasts like me, this stretch is a thrill for it is the longest standing remnant of 66 remaining in the nation at a whopping 159 miles! We would not be traveling quite that far on this day, but the stretch I was driving on was all virgin territory for me. 66 heads on an independent 17 miles path to Seligman, paralleling 40. I could have continued on the freeway to Seligman, but that would have been useless to me. Seligman itself is like a smaller version of Williams, quite pleasant. After the town was done, 66 began an arc to the northwest toward Peach Springs.
While driving, we saw the sun slowly setting until it was gone, and then enjoyed a mildly warm twilight period to Peach Springs, passing by the Grand Canyon Caverns, another place we will have to see when we have more time. After Peach Springs, 66 curved to the southwest, passing by Truxton and Valentine before straightening for a 20 mile stretch to Kingman. I could not have envisioned a more pleasant evening drive in my life!
We got on to 40, grabbed a snack off the freeway, then made our way back to 93 and home, a seemingly faster trek than on Monday getting out of Vegas. Return drives are often that way.
Now, for those who are curious about 66 past where we got off, let me fill you in. 66 runs through the heart of Kingman with a series of shops, inns, and restaurants, much like Williams except more desert-like in climate. After Kingman, it crosses under 40 again and heads toward the Black Mountains. As it rises toward Cool Springs, one is treated to an pretty awesome old Mobil Station before taking a switchbacked narrow roadway through the mountains before it hits Oatman, an old mining town that is now a 66 mecca for motorcycle riders and wild burros left over from the mining era. One should devote some time here if they are of true traveler spirit before heading southwest on 66 toward the Colorado River Valley and Turlock, where it again meets I 40 to travel to Needles and bleak, empty California desert.
Incidentally, the Oatman stretch was abandoned, though not forgotten, in 1953, as the Oatman stretch was the most dangerous stretch of 66 in all its length. Instead, it was routed south of Kingman through Yucca, then turned west toward Needles.
In closing, my love of classic roads is a passion. When given a choice, I will take the old road over the freeway whenever I can. Long live route 66 and long live the American road traveler spirit!
As fun as the trip was, due to limited funds, we only got to stay a short time. After a breakfast at the Village Inn on Wednesday morning, we said our goodbyes and headed out.
One fact I have noted many times is that Interstate 10 is a good representative of hell. I have been on many stretches of it between western Texas and Santa Monica, California, and have seen time-lapse footage of it between western Texas and eastern Florida. At any given place, 10 goes through urban blight, desert, and flat coastal lowlands. It lacks the majesty of Interstate 70 in the Rockies, the Appalachian tunnel treats of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, or the coastal sights off U.S. 101 in western Oregon. My wife would have to give me caffeine intravenously and crank up days worth of hard metal music to get me all the way across I 10!
10 in the Phoenix area is bizarre, especially downtown. It jettisons I 17 then goes a tunnel, then meets 17 again before heading through suburban metro Phoenix to empty desert toward Los Angeles. I have been on all of it and am not anxious to see it again. So, we headed up I 17.
17 is a pretty interesting road due to its changing terrain. It starts slow, going through Phoenix's northern parts, then heads into empty desert, passing by several saguarro cacti patches. After a bit, it climbs up a few thousand feet, still in the desert but seeing different shades of green among steep climbs and steep descents. Soon, exits appear for Prescott and Sedona, 2 picturesque villages in northern Arizona. Finally, we rise to 7,000 feet and are among the evergreens as 17 passes under I 40 and ends in Flagstaff.
In Flagstaff, we see several modern amenities in a pretty area. The temperature was in the high 70s, a welcome change from hot Phoenix. We saw a sign for business 40/route 66. A smile spread across my face, because the real adventure was about to begin! First, though, we decided to sit and eat at the Galaxy Diner, a place dedicated to classic 50s-60s tunes, good food, and entertainment memorabilia without the gaudiness of a gift shop. That would come later. I had a bowl of cream of potato soup and half a BLT plus cole slaw, just what the soul needed after the desert driving.
One thing I can say about Arizona is that it celebrates its 66 heritage quite well in several towns along its path. Once while driving a friend to the Dallas area, we saw a lot of 66 in Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. California has some of it as well, though its 2 oldest independent stretches are more loaded with empty ghost towns than lively remembrance and celebration.
Out of Flagstaff, 66 continues for a few miles before merging on to I 40, which was fraught with way too much road construction for my liking, though I do appreciate the infrastructure upkeep. After several miles of single lane narrow travel, we exited at Williams. Now this is a town that celebrates its past as a route 66 town! Its historic loop road is filled with inns, restaurants, and shops. It also hosts a pretty cool railway. We will have to visit this town again! We did stop at a souvenir store/historic gas station and picked up a few trinkets. I am generally not for these shops, as they are reminiscent of the Graceland gift shop: full of gawdy merchandise disguised as memorabilia. On this occasion, though, I decided to embrace it, for I had dedicated this day to as much 66 as I could get...and it was just beginning!
Back on 40, it was more construction for a few miles until we reached Ash Fork. This was a good place to top off the tank. Ash Fork is another 66 town, though to a lesser extent than Williams. Where Williams is the gateway to the Grand Canyon, Ash Fork is merely the junction of 66 and old U.S. 89. It is actually more residential in a semi-ghost town way.
Just a few miles down, 66 exits I-40 for the last time until the Colorado River at Topock. For 66 enthusiasts like me, this stretch is a thrill for it is the longest standing remnant of 66 remaining in the nation at a whopping 159 miles! We would not be traveling quite that far on this day, but the stretch I was driving on was all virgin territory for me. 66 heads on an independent 17 miles path to Seligman, paralleling 40. I could have continued on the freeway to Seligman, but that would have been useless to me. Seligman itself is like a smaller version of Williams, quite pleasant. After the town was done, 66 began an arc to the northwest toward Peach Springs.
While driving, we saw the sun slowly setting until it was gone, and then enjoyed a mildly warm twilight period to Peach Springs, passing by the Grand Canyon Caverns, another place we will have to see when we have more time. After Peach Springs, 66 curved to the southwest, passing by Truxton and Valentine before straightening for a 20 mile stretch to Kingman. I could not have envisioned a more pleasant evening drive in my life!
We got on to 40, grabbed a snack off the freeway, then made our way back to 93 and home, a seemingly faster trek than on Monday getting out of Vegas. Return drives are often that way.
Now, for those who are curious about 66 past where we got off, let me fill you in. 66 runs through the heart of Kingman with a series of shops, inns, and restaurants, much like Williams except more desert-like in climate. After Kingman, it crosses under 40 again and heads toward the Black Mountains. As it rises toward Cool Springs, one is treated to an pretty awesome old Mobil Station before taking a switchbacked narrow roadway through the mountains before it hits Oatman, an old mining town that is now a 66 mecca for motorcycle riders and wild burros left over from the mining era. One should devote some time here if they are of true traveler spirit before heading southwest on 66 toward the Colorado River Valley and Turlock, where it again meets I 40 to travel to Needles and bleak, empty California desert.
Incidentally, the Oatman stretch was abandoned, though not forgotten, in 1953, as the Oatman stretch was the most dangerous stretch of 66 in all its length. Instead, it was routed south of Kingman through Yucca, then turned west toward Needles.
In closing, my love of classic roads is a passion. When given a choice, I will take the old road over the freeway whenever I can. Long live route 66 and long live the American road traveler spirit!
Saturday, June 9, 2018
The June Excursion part 2: reunion
We recently took a short trip to Phoenix, Arizona. You know, one hell to another in terms of desert. Did we go there just to increase our need for high SPF? Au contraire, we were there for a reunion.
Not a family reunion, but a friend reunion. It is interesting how some friendships form. I was not the type of person growing up to be buds with one of the football players. It was not that I did not like any of them, but jocks weren't naturally turned in my direction. And as I was a particularly scrawny nerdy lad, I was not likely to be one of them anytime soon.
There was one exception in that group of overpopping testosterone: Tris Vaughan. Not only did he not have an overinflated opinion of himself, but he also had an eye for good movie lines. Oh he was a big tough football player all right, just better balanced. We met in 10th grade P.E.and and in 11th and 12th grades shared journalism and mass media classes as well. Mass media was where the film appreciation really showed for both of us. We hung out a couple of times after graduation, including an unexpected night of alcohol at his house with a bunch of others. That was the first time I'd gotten wasted, to my recollection.
When I moved to California, there was a rough first year where I had to wait out a year so I could establish residency for cheaper college rates. Tris was the recipient of a few calls bemoaning my suck-ass jobs awaiting that magic month. In December of 1993, I went back to Pennsylvania for a week and Tris was good enough to let me stay at his house. That was one of the most fun weeks I can remember. We hung out with a lot of high school friends on several occasions. I even got to stay an extra day due to a classic northeastern snowstorm shutting down everything. I got to know his brother and mom a lot better on that visit as well! It had been a rough year for the Vaughans, as Tris's father had passed away, so it was a good thing Mr. Moore was there to lift spirits with his wacky nerdy self.
Several years later, I managed to get to PA again in mid 2000 for a long weekend. On that visit, I had the pleasure of not only visiting with Tris but also meeting his fiancee Ann-Marie. That was actually the highlight of the trip, as my spirits had sunken due to all the changes in my beloved Berks County.
Over the course of many years, Tris and I kept in touch regularly thanks to the magic of online communication. I kept up with Ann-Marie as well and have watched through pictures the growth of their 2 boys. Then in 2017, the Vaughan family moved to Phoenix...well, Gilbert to be exact. This was exciting! All we had to do was figure out a time to get together. It took 10 months, but we finally got down there this past week!
There are old friends who just sit and remember the "good old days". That is all fine and good, but after a while there is nothing left to talk about. I've experienced this before. Luckily, this was not the case. Yeah, we talk about old classmates from Wilson and their recent histories, but we also have movies, jokes, and our families in common.
What made this visit particularly special was that I was reawakened to the spirit of Pennsylvania in terms of toughness. Like I said, I grew up a nerdy, scrawny kid, but over time I developed a basic toughness. I didn't cry and run to an adult every time some little thing happened, most of the time I sucked it up. It was the BIG SHIT that made me cry. Living out west for 26 years, I have noticed a lack of that basic toughness, sometimes to the point of people being overly pompous with that empty hard core. Sometimes a reminder of where you come from is a healthy thing!
It was a pretty great if short visit. We hung in the pool, barbecued, and just talked a lot. I remembered that Tris is the epitome of the word "tangent"...you start a story, and he will interrupt with an anecdote here and there, so that the original tale will take four, maybe five times as long to tell. It was also great to watch how strong an 18-year old marriage is and how much loving shit they give each other. I cannot help but think that if my folks had been like that, their marriage may have survived. An added bonus was watching their son and Natalie play together. They got on so well that we let her stay overnight.
On our day headed out of town, we all met up at Village Inn for breakfast. I swear, we could have just kept talking for a longer time, but I had a road adventure to begin. It is great to know I have a link to my past so close in distance and spirit and I cannot wait until we visit again!
Not a family reunion, but a friend reunion. It is interesting how some friendships form. I was not the type of person growing up to be buds with one of the football players. It was not that I did not like any of them, but jocks weren't naturally turned in my direction. And as I was a particularly scrawny nerdy lad, I was not likely to be one of them anytime soon.
There was one exception in that group of overpopping testosterone: Tris Vaughan. Not only did he not have an overinflated opinion of himself, but he also had an eye for good movie lines. Oh he was a big tough football player all right, just better balanced. We met in 10th grade P.E.and and in 11th and 12th grades shared journalism and mass media classes as well. Mass media was where the film appreciation really showed for both of us. We hung out a couple of times after graduation, including an unexpected night of alcohol at his house with a bunch of others. That was the first time I'd gotten wasted, to my recollection.
When I moved to California, there was a rough first year where I had to wait out a year so I could establish residency for cheaper college rates. Tris was the recipient of a few calls bemoaning my suck-ass jobs awaiting that magic month. In December of 1993, I went back to Pennsylvania for a week and Tris was good enough to let me stay at his house. That was one of the most fun weeks I can remember. We hung out with a lot of high school friends on several occasions. I even got to stay an extra day due to a classic northeastern snowstorm shutting down everything. I got to know his brother and mom a lot better on that visit as well! It had been a rough year for the Vaughans, as Tris's father had passed away, so it was a good thing Mr. Moore was there to lift spirits with his wacky nerdy self.
Several years later, I managed to get to PA again in mid 2000 for a long weekend. On that visit, I had the pleasure of not only visiting with Tris but also meeting his fiancee Ann-Marie. That was actually the highlight of the trip, as my spirits had sunken due to all the changes in my beloved Berks County.
Over the course of many years, Tris and I kept in touch regularly thanks to the magic of online communication. I kept up with Ann-Marie as well and have watched through pictures the growth of their 2 boys. Then in 2017, the Vaughan family moved to Phoenix...well, Gilbert to be exact. This was exciting! All we had to do was figure out a time to get together. It took 10 months, but we finally got down there this past week!
There are old friends who just sit and remember the "good old days". That is all fine and good, but after a while there is nothing left to talk about. I've experienced this before. Luckily, this was not the case. Yeah, we talk about old classmates from Wilson and their recent histories, but we also have movies, jokes, and our families in common.
What made this visit particularly special was that I was reawakened to the spirit of Pennsylvania in terms of toughness. Like I said, I grew up a nerdy, scrawny kid, but over time I developed a basic toughness. I didn't cry and run to an adult every time some little thing happened, most of the time I sucked it up. It was the BIG SHIT that made me cry. Living out west for 26 years, I have noticed a lack of that basic toughness, sometimes to the point of people being overly pompous with that empty hard core. Sometimes a reminder of where you come from is a healthy thing!
It was a pretty great if short visit. We hung in the pool, barbecued, and just talked a lot. I remembered that Tris is the epitome of the word "tangent"...you start a story, and he will interrupt with an anecdote here and there, so that the original tale will take four, maybe five times as long to tell. It was also great to watch how strong an 18-year old marriage is and how much loving shit they give each other. I cannot help but think that if my folks had been like that, their marriage may have survived. An added bonus was watching their son and Natalie play together. They got on so well that we let her stay overnight.
On our day headed out of town, we all met up at Village Inn for breakfast. I swear, we could have just kept talking for a longer time, but I had a road adventure to begin. It is great to know I have a link to my past so close in distance and spirit and I cannot wait until we visit again!
Thursday, June 7, 2018
The June Excursion part 1
All right! The 2nd week of summer vacation was upon us. What should we do? Sit on our asses watching TV and playing mindless games? Well shit, that sounded great to me, but Vickie absolutely insisted that we should do this on our feet. So I figured while we were on our feet, we should pack a bag and go on a trip. Vegas hell will always be here no matter how many times I change my boxers!
For this excursion, we decided to visit another hell. Phoenix! The Phoenix area is about 2 million times the size of the Vegas area. If you start at the northwestern end and head to the extreme southeastern end...well let's just say the Reading to Philly drives were a faster trip! At least I can say that for the population, they built a much better freeway system to get backed up in than the Vegas planners did.
On Monday morning, I went to grab the rental car because, well, why abuse my own car when I can just beat the shit out of one that's not mine? We locked and loaded the car, gassed and fed up with crap Arby's and away we went!
Getting past Henderson, we see a lot of new signs for Interstate 11. For those who are NOT road geeks like me (meaning the whole planet outside of Rand McNally headquarters), Interstate 11 is one of many Federal highway projects that will not be completed before my death, most likely, if the nation's infrastructure does not get higher-than-Trump's-golf priorities. The idea is good, making a fast nonstop freeway system between Las Vegas and Phoenix. After all, getting from high to low desert and back is pretty important, at least to boll weevils. As it stands, you can get from Vegas to past Henderson on a freeway, then snail trail your way on U.S. 93 through Boulder City (motto: "We don't slot, we just sweat a lot!"), then go down a long downhill toward Lake Mead, hoping a cop doesn't catch you NOT grinding your brakes to the bare metal! From there, 93 eventually returns to expressway status, bypassing Hoover Dam into Arizona.
I must pause here to stress how good that last part is. When I first moved to Las Vegas 16 years ago, U.S. 93 hairpinned down to Hoover Dam, crossed it, then hairpinned up again on the Arizona side. It was a major pain, though with no major truck traffic due to post-9/11 security measures.
Back to current 93, it continues through hilly lands for 17 miles before entering a long valley in western Arizona. Extending down to Kingman, this valley is a lesson in planning. If you didn't gas up in Vegas, you WILL pay through the nose or other lower orifice for gas. On Monday it was $4.39, obviously trying to compete with California for obnoxious pricing! At mile marker 67, 93 junctions with the end of AZ 68, a fast route to Bullhead City, AZ and Laughlin, NV (motto: "Smaller than Vegas but without the entertainment taxes!"). 93 then rises to a small summit, then plunges down toward outer Kingman and Interstate 40. Interstate 11 would take out the onside turns for the expensive gas and instead put in exit ramps to get the gas. Also, the amenities between AZ 68 and I-40 would either be razed or stay alongside an access road. I have a feeling that will be a HUGE feat!
U.S. 93 joins I-40 for just over 20 miles, intersecting classic highway 66 along the way, but more on that experience later! 93 finally leaves I-40 at exit 71, then proceeds on a long, fairly boring trek toward Wickenburg. Sounds pretty witchy, right? Well, this would be the 2nd leg of I-11 from what I have read. A lot of the trek is 4-lane divided highway as it is, but there are still 2-lane stretches that need upgrading. Plus, Wickenberg would need a complete bypass.
Along the way, we stopped for a restroom break in Wikieup, paid for that break with buying merchandise, and fed some beautiful koi in a pond out back. Lesson here: if you drive past the little stuff, you might miss the cool things in life!
In Wickenburg, 93 ends at a traffic circle where we pick up U.S. 60, which is a mostly intact highway in the west, save for its old California portion almost completely disappearing under I-10. It also continues all the way to the Atlantic Ocean, making 60 a fairly classic road in itself, just missing the appeal of 66 somehow. It is interesting to note that all of the services on 60 in Wickenburg are on the westbound side and the traffic is heavy, so good luck finding a quick restroom stop!
Out of Wickenburg, 60 continues southeast on Grand Avenue toward downtown Phoenix. I have memories of this portion. When my grandma lived in Sun City West, I came down that way all the time to see her until she moved to California in early 2007. The 303 overpass was my sign that the journey was over back then. Well not this time, for our destination was Mesa, on the EAST side of the metro area! We got on to 303 south, and I was quite amazed at the change since 11 years ago. What was once a rural 2-lane road with stop signs and lights was now a full freeway with the standard food, gas, and shopping concessions on both sides, all the way down to I-10. Unfortunately, I see the future here: growth, freeway expansion, more growth, more freeway expansion. It is a never-ending cycle.
Finally we hit I-10 near Buckeye and headed east toward Phoenix. At 5:00, traffic was light heading toward the city, but once we passed downtown, all hell broke loose. Traffic was tight (as in still) from the end of I-17 to the 60 freeway off ramp. Once on 60, traffic was lighter and we were able to get to Mesa and our Ramada Inn pretty easily.
Next up, a visit with an old friend!
For this excursion, we decided to visit another hell. Phoenix! The Phoenix area is about 2 million times the size of the Vegas area. If you start at the northwestern end and head to the extreme southeastern end...well let's just say the Reading to Philly drives were a faster trip! At least I can say that for the population, they built a much better freeway system to get backed up in than the Vegas planners did.
On Monday morning, I went to grab the rental car because, well, why abuse my own car when I can just beat the shit out of one that's not mine? We locked and loaded the car, gassed and fed up with crap Arby's and away we went!
Getting past Henderson, we see a lot of new signs for Interstate 11. For those who are NOT road geeks like me (meaning the whole planet outside of Rand McNally headquarters), Interstate 11 is one of many Federal highway projects that will not be completed before my death, most likely, if the nation's infrastructure does not get higher-than-Trump's-golf priorities. The idea is good, making a fast nonstop freeway system between Las Vegas and Phoenix. After all, getting from high to low desert and back is pretty important, at least to boll weevils. As it stands, you can get from Vegas to past Henderson on a freeway, then snail trail your way on U.S. 93 through Boulder City (motto: "We don't slot, we just sweat a lot!"), then go down a long downhill toward Lake Mead, hoping a cop doesn't catch you NOT grinding your brakes to the bare metal! From there, 93 eventually returns to expressway status, bypassing Hoover Dam into Arizona.
I must pause here to stress how good that last part is. When I first moved to Las Vegas 16 years ago, U.S. 93 hairpinned down to Hoover Dam, crossed it, then hairpinned up again on the Arizona side. It was a major pain, though with no major truck traffic due to post-9/11 security measures.
Back to current 93, it continues through hilly lands for 17 miles before entering a long valley in western Arizona. Extending down to Kingman, this valley is a lesson in planning. If you didn't gas up in Vegas, you WILL pay through the nose or other lower orifice for gas. On Monday it was $4.39, obviously trying to compete with California for obnoxious pricing! At mile marker 67, 93 junctions with the end of AZ 68, a fast route to Bullhead City, AZ and Laughlin, NV (motto: "Smaller than Vegas but without the entertainment taxes!"). 93 then rises to a small summit, then plunges down toward outer Kingman and Interstate 40. Interstate 11 would take out the onside turns for the expensive gas and instead put in exit ramps to get the gas. Also, the amenities between AZ 68 and I-40 would either be razed or stay alongside an access road. I have a feeling that will be a HUGE feat!
U.S. 93 joins I-40 for just over 20 miles, intersecting classic highway 66 along the way, but more on that experience later! 93 finally leaves I-40 at exit 71, then proceeds on a long, fairly boring trek toward Wickenburg. Sounds pretty witchy, right? Well, this would be the 2nd leg of I-11 from what I have read. A lot of the trek is 4-lane divided highway as it is, but there are still 2-lane stretches that need upgrading. Plus, Wickenberg would need a complete bypass.
Along the way, we stopped for a restroom break in Wikieup, paid for that break with buying merchandise, and fed some beautiful koi in a pond out back. Lesson here: if you drive past the little stuff, you might miss the cool things in life!
In Wickenburg, 93 ends at a traffic circle where we pick up U.S. 60, which is a mostly intact highway in the west, save for its old California portion almost completely disappearing under I-10. It also continues all the way to the Atlantic Ocean, making 60 a fairly classic road in itself, just missing the appeal of 66 somehow. It is interesting to note that all of the services on 60 in Wickenburg are on the westbound side and the traffic is heavy, so good luck finding a quick restroom stop!
Out of Wickenburg, 60 continues southeast on Grand Avenue toward downtown Phoenix. I have memories of this portion. When my grandma lived in Sun City West, I came down that way all the time to see her until she moved to California in early 2007. The 303 overpass was my sign that the journey was over back then. Well not this time, for our destination was Mesa, on the EAST side of the metro area! We got on to 303 south, and I was quite amazed at the change since 11 years ago. What was once a rural 2-lane road with stop signs and lights was now a full freeway with the standard food, gas, and shopping concessions on both sides, all the way down to I-10. Unfortunately, I see the future here: growth, freeway expansion, more growth, more freeway expansion. It is a never-ending cycle.
Finally we hit I-10 near Buckeye and headed east toward Phoenix. At 5:00, traffic was light heading toward the city, but once we passed downtown, all hell broke loose. Traffic was tight (as in still) from the end of I-17 to the 60 freeway off ramp. Once on 60, traffic was lighter and we were able to get to Mesa and our Ramada Inn pretty easily.
Next up, a visit with an old friend!
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