A Day Trip of Disappointment

In what I am sure was just a weak (albeit successful) ploy to get out of anymore strenuous hikes, we were taking a little day trip to Colorado Springs.  This is way more promising than NCAR, not that says much, that place sucks. We are going to  visit 2 institutions that I am positive no member of the Mensh family would otherwise ever set foot in (other than as a visitor).

Our first stop was the Air Force Academy.  I love planes. My Dad was a recreational pilot and worked for Piedmont Airlines. So,  unlike my kids who are having to drag  ass all over the USA shoved in the back of a Surburban, I spent my childhood jetsetting around the world (not in a bratty way, it was all free and that’s just how we did  it; believe me, I was begging my parents to just take us to the beach for a week, not Hong Kong). The upside was,  this was back in the day when flying was fun. You could bring pocket knives and nail clippers and more than 3 ounces of shampoo on the plane, and all without having to be felt up by a (most likely not even hot) TSA agent.  And once you crossed through the lax security you could kick back and smoke a few cigarettes (well, I couldn’t because I was like 10; which I am thinking is actually the age my brother smoked his first cig; so I guess maybe I could have, oh well another missed opportunity) and eat peanuts and drink as many Cokes as you wanted between Greensboro and West Palm Beach (that was where my grandmother lived so that was our most frequent trip…actually she lived in Vero Beach, but we had to fly into WPB, ok…just trying to keep it real, I don’t need any of you  fact checking me and calling my ass out). Anyway,  I have nothing except respect for all of the planes and  pilots in the world. Shit,  I can barely navigate a car from my house to Greensboro (30 miles for all of you out of towners) without a major incident, so the thought of  tooling around up in the sky and keeping my shit halfway together….well, I’m sure we can all guess how that would turn out.  And nevermind trying to fly that thing while under enemy fire; although I guess it would be similar to trying to avoid all of the assholes driving around on I-40 as they text. Yeah, pretty much exactly the same, maybe even easier. You’re right,  I guess I would be a good fighter pilot. At least a better pilot than rock climber, that’s fo sho. So, let’s get a little info about what being a cadet in the Air Force Academy is going to be like for me.  Before I get to explore my new campus and pick out my new room, we will be checking out a little welcome video.

Ummmmmmmm, who are these people? Ok, the video scared me to death and has me seriously second guessing my dedication to this country and my future as an Air Force Officer.  And as far as the kids who are presently attending, and anyone who  has already graduated  the Air Force Academy, well, I  can’t decided if I should marvel at  you or wonder the fuck is wrong with you. Or I am thinking both.  What is not up for argument is that I could never, ever put up with the BS you voluntarily subject yourselves to. Also not up for argument: I do appreciate all that you do for our country. I don’t want to sound ungrateful.  You really are bad asses. And you have some serious self-control.

For those of you who have not had the privilege of checking this place out. Here are some little facts and some of my own personal reflections:

1. The quad area is a grid, with marble lines running through it which I thought were just for aesthetics.  Well, I thought wrong, that is not at all the reason for them. They are like functional cages.Your first year there, when walking through that area, not only are you not allowed to walk off of the marble lines, you are not allowed to talk when out there. At all. To anyone. For Real. I am in shock that anyone has ever graduated from this place, I would be booted in the first day. Except I am guessing they probably don’t boot you on your first offense. So, I would get a warning, or a demerit or a slap on the wrist or a time out or whatever sort of discipline system is employed there. And I would learn my lesson and be  good; for awhile…maybe a week. Tops. Then I would get booted. My poor roommate would be so devastated that I was leaving, and my suitemates, how would they be able to deal? …it would be such a domino effect. Probably even cause to elevate the terror warning. What was I thinking? I cannot put our Nation at risk like that. I will not applying.  Whew, National Security crisis averted.

Right over our heads...can you see that grid kind of thing?? That's what I'm talking about. INSANE!

2. I was so traumatized and so busy thinking about my life as a cadet and all of the rules and the nontalking and contrasting that with what sort of behaviors I was engaging in during my Freshman year of college that  I did not learn a single other thing.  Lesson learned. Me+Air Force does not equal marriage made in heaven. Maybe I’ll have more luck at our next stop.

The inside of the Cadet's chapel, which I would probably have to spend a lot of time in...praying for a way to get me the hell out of here

Bring on the Olympic Training Facility. I am thinking that  at age 37 my window has long since come and gone for any sort of Olympic career, although don’t get me wrong, I did spend a good deal of time googling obscure Olympic sports that you might not peak at in your 20s and that might be a good fit for me. And on that note, does anyone in Winston (or with in a 30 mile radius)have a javelin, or a discus or a bow and arrow I can borrow for a week or so? Just message me. Din’t you want to play a part in my Olympic Dream? I know you do. OK, moving on…Remember how I was all jazzed about the gym back at the Ritz??? (please refer back to the Denver post if not…and don’t read this shit out of order from now on) Well, the Olympic Training facility makes that place look like my home gym (which ps, consists of a old ass treadmill, a not as old elliptical machine and a few weights, all housed in the basement of my house, barely visable and/ or accesible  thanks to the kids crap all over and around  it). There were weights and cardio machines and pools and massage rooms and physical therapy rooms, and all sorts of other off the chain things that I love.  Which I guess in the big picture is a good thing, it would suck and be a sad commentary if Carmelo Anthony and The Ritz Carlton had more to offer and better resources than our Olympic team,but with capitalism…you never know. Anyway, the place was awesome, like a little mini college campus…devoted entirely to sports, I like it.

bob sledding...if I didn't get so cold. I think I am a better lock for a summer Olympic Sport

Time to get back to Boulder and my realizing that I kind of like my life that doesn’t involve having to protect this country and training 8 hours a day for my Olympic debut. But not before a little detour through the Garden of the Gods and a trip up to Pikes Peak…well, at least that’s what I thought what we were going to do.

Balancing Rock, Garden of the Gods

We did get some good viewing of Garden of the God’s in; but, as I’m sure those idiots over at NCAR could have told me yesterday, there was a ginormous thunderstorm coming in and as we arrived at Pike’s Peak,  Ranger Rick (no, not the same Ranger Rick from Boston, this guy was actually nice and helpful, not like that douchebag loser in Boston)  strongly advised against attempting to venture up to the top. So advice heeded, we U-turned it and noticed this treasure as we headed back down.

It's a shame that the weather had to ruin this experience

Another Santa themed area?? I like it. The North Pole…just steps from Pike’s Peak entrance. What a great way to trash up a National Park.  I knew there was no way that Danny would even entertain the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon at the North Pole Amusement Park, and lucky for him as we were browsing the (kind of lame) gift shop, and I was rehearsing in my mind my sales pitch for all the fun to be had on the North Pole Ferris Wheel and Zipper, the massive Thunderstorm was directly overhead…so we were out. As I looked out the window with a possible tear in my eye thinking about what could have been, there were several bolts of lightning and then I noticed all of the nitwits in the metal cages of The Zipper. Wow. Yeah, I’m ready to call it a day.

A 2 for 1…2 days in one post. WOW! I am really stepping up my game…actually I’m not, don’t get used to it.

After the barely avoiding heat strokes and the constant bitching during the hike yesterday, I decided to give the troops (read…myself) the day off and we were going to trade in our hiking shoes (read…no, we do not have any special hiking shoes, which after several near shankle breakers, I may need to invest in some) for thermometers (read…no we don’t have any thermometers either, I am just trying to be funny…just bear with me) and headed to the National Center for Atmospheric Research (which for brevity purposes- haha, brevity, like I know how to do that- will be referred to as NCAR during the rest of this post. Although it sucked so I am hoping not to be referring to it much at all, period; and no, I can not take credit for the catchy nickname, that’s what people actually call it through out the world, though I am shocked after experiencing it in person that anyone around the world would feel the need to discuss it , but I guess there are some scientists, etc. who get off on that shit, or maybe they have to cuz it’s their job- whatevs). Well, NCAR can kiss my ass- let’s just add atmospheric research to the (seemingly ever-expanding) list of things that I do not give a flying fuck about. I am just happy to wake up in the AM push the weather button on my phone and know what temperatures to expect when I walk out the door and for the next few hours. I don’t care how that  info got there and in regard to the shit they do at  NCAR,  I also do not care what sort of balloon or rocket or kite was used to gather said info. I will leave all of that info gathering  and reporting to the  Laney Popes, Austin Cavenisses (for you local peeps) and Al Rokers and Willard Scotts (for my vast National audience)of the world. OK, maybe not Willard Scott he is just focusing on the Smucker’s birthday reporting these days right? He used to be the bomb back in the day though. In a true testament to how much NCAR sucked, I did not take single picture there. And I know some of you can only read like one paragraph with out a picture, so I will take this time to show you my dinner or lunch or some meal I had the other day:

So wrong, but so right.

No hiking today, but after the thrillingness of NCAR and whatever gourmet lunch I might have thrown together, we were off on our bikes to pick up some food.  A girl Danny grew up with lives out in Boulder and had been nice enough to invite us over (she obviously does not know me, or would have not been so quick with the invite). And in an even more ridiculous move I had decided I was not going to freeload and was going to bring something…hard to believe right?? So me and the kiddos set off on our bikes to the store to grab something to take. And I’m sure in some sort of Karma situation after all my smack talking during our NCAR tour and my disinterest in the changes of weather, as we were leaving from Whole Foods it was sprinkling and there was a little lightning and thunder. Ga-reat!!! We had to get home and it wasn’t raining that hard, I knew we could make it. So we hopped back on our bikes and started busting a move back to the crib.  Well, another little observation about Boulder…people here are not deterred at all from their daily activities for the sake of a little thunder…or lightning. I mean, yes, we were also out in it, I get that, but we were trying to get home, we are not just lollygagging. We biked past the pool and they at least do have the good sense to clear that out for thunder and lightning, but the play ground next door…PACKED!!! And it is all metal. Even my dumb ass knows that climbing on a metal jungle gym is not the thing to do with bolts of lightning cracking all over the place (and I didn’t even learn that at NCAR, btw).

We made it home, showered (yes, actual showers) and headed out. Many thanks to Hillary, Scott, Desmond, and Quincey  for a fun night – we had a blast!  They have 2 boys around the same age of ours and the boys just ran wild for a few hours. And as a bonus, another broad that Danny grew up with had just moved to Boulder and she came over to- so it was fun times; even though I didn’t know half the people they were talking about, but I can roll with it. The kids luckily stayed away most of the night, and  I can only imagine what the upstairs must have looked like after we left; but I have not gotten any angry facebook wall posts from Hillary- so I assume it wasn’t too too bad.  Although there was a bloody nose.  No news is good news right?? I’m going with that.

I usually hate to combine days, but I like to keep it fresh for you readers. On to the next day…

I had given everyone the day off yesterday and let them talk me into the dumb ass NCAR place…well, I was taking the reins back over and I was not going to subject anyone (read…myself) into soaking up anymore unnecessary and/ or useless knowledge. And in an effort to not be stoned to death or cussed out by any or all members of this crew, I am changing our locale and we are heading to some higher elevations and some cooler temps. Nederland or Eldora or who the hell knows where were we headed…but here we come. It was only like 20 miles away.

As always, all smiles before the hiking starts

Little Willie. That smile was short lived of course

Holy Shit it is freezing up here and the one time I do not follow my normal protocol and layer. Bummer. The good news, it is a moderate hike, so I am confident I will be having a god damn heart attack soon and my hypothermia will be the least of my worries. We headed up to find Lost Lake and there it was.  Not lost at all. Right there in plain sight.

Lost (Found) Lake...and look, a little snow up on that mountain in the back

Look at that rushing water we had to get over...I kid, I kid. There is no way I would have trusted myself to even try that, I would have sent one of the kids first

Ok, back down we go. I hate the downhill. I have no problem with the ascent- it doesn’t bother me and I happen to like getting my heart rate elevated; but Christ Almighty, I hate coming back down and it is a minor (read..major) miracle that I did not break a flippin leg or ankle because as you can imagine I am completely out of control. I rolled my poor shankles on multiple occasions but am happy to report, never once actually fell down.  I guess all the skateboarding is paying off and my balance is in tip top shape.  Also worth noting now, I hauled my damn skateboard all the way out here…and it’s a long board so is taking up a shit ton of room and I have only ridden it  twice). Oh, AND I forgot to mention that not only was this hike strenuous, it had the added bonus of having to wade through creeks and rushing water (Ok, there was no actual wading, but we did have to do some precarious stone stepping to keep our shoes dry).

We stopped by the little Boulder Falls on the way back…which I know I have renewed all of your interest in Mork and Mindy, so if you are all caught up on my blog and want to piss away some more time, go to youtube and watch the theme song for Mork and Mindy and not only will you notice the house that I hooked you up with a few posts ago (you’re welcome), but you’ll also see Boulder Falls (pictured below) and Mindy driving is up the road towards this hike. And her dad’s music shop in on Pearl Street (also noted earlier for DJ’s debut as a knife tosser). Wow, what a bunch of useless info that is. I apologize- but maybe one or two of you will enjoy it (losers).

Boulder Falls....amazing right?? The rocks are all starting to look the same aren't they??

It was Wednesday and we were headed to the Famous Boulder Farmer’s Market to pick up some fresh fruit and veggies and dinner. Strike and strike. Apparently the only things in season right now is Kale and Beets and there is no well in hell I am eating either of those 2 nastinesses. Ok then, bring on dinner. Cue rain, and thunder, and lightning.  Sweet. And it was really raining, not just a little sprinkle…real, pouring rain and real lightning and not shockingly, as I look around there are people still walking around and even sprawled out in the park eating like there is not a thing going on. I do not have that sort of resolve, we are getting the fuck out of here and going to a real restaurant, with an actual roof, and air conditioning, and beer and no lightning. I know, I am such a party pooper.

HIKE, bike, Eat, Yell at kids, Drink beer(s), Sleep…Repeat

Always all smiles at the bottom of the Mountain!

Yep, that pretty much sums it up. That’s our life in Boulder. With probably more yelling at the kids and eating and drinking than hiking and biking; but let’s just pretend it is all equal. It was Monday and we (read…I) decided to start the week off with another hike…another moderate hike. Why? Ummmmmm, because I am a moron. So, Mount Sanitas it is. I had gotten the “insider info” that this was a hike to do first thing in the morning or later in the evening because there is no shade, none at all (which, it is worth noting that insider info was spot on, un-friggin-fortunately).  Let’s see,  later in the evening is out because that would be when the  beer drinking starts and in sometimes (read..rarely) knowing  my limits, I realize that me trying to scale anything higher than 3 steps after I have had a few brews is not going to end well; and first thing in the morning was also out, because we (read…all the other people in my family who do not suffer from insomnia like I do…bastards) don’t get rolling until about 11. So, weighing our options and knowing that the beer drinking would need to take priority over hiking, I was willing to risk the heat stroke- it’s decisions like this that keep standing of the way in my “Mother of the Year” award.  I can’t remember precisely whether it was 7 or 8 minutes into the hike when morale started to turn and the bitching started. There was some mention of altitude sickness and I think the word puke was thrown out more than once, and that was just Danny…kidding, kidding. When I hear shit like that it just makes me walk faster. And that is  for everyone’s benefit as I attempt to get some distance so I am not in arm’s reach and close enough to punch someone, anyone  in the throat or eye. But I sure did appreciate it, the constant bitching really makes the experience enjoyable. And let’s just prolong things by stopping every 14 steps to get some water. This is definitely my idea of fun.  🙂 But, as we always manage to, we somehow made it down without falling ill to altitude sickness and/ or puking and or murder/ suicide.

Top of the mountain; way more sweat, way less smiling

So, hike finished, it was time to eat and then bike a little, yell at the kids a lot and then eat again. But in a flabbergasting decision , today we had all decided to shower and go out for a nice dinner. That works for me. Boulder is known for its food (maybe behind the pot and the hippies, but still, it is a foodie town and there are tons of good restaurants). Yet,  for some reason, even though I am supposed to be on vacation I have been working way to hard at keeping my skills sharp in both cooking and laundry. But, somedays even I get tired, especially days that involve a moderate hike (oh shit, and I forgot to mention that I had to piggy back Will partially down the mountain, that was a bonus…but he was “sooooooooo tired” and “sooooooooo  thirsty” and “soooooooo close to dying”).  I did  need a break. All showered up we headed down to Pearl Street to SALT. Which will make a few of you chuckle because circa 1995 Salt was one of the many nicknames I was going by (mostly coined by myself). Anyway, the food was good, although we were all underwhelmed and not as enthusiastic about the black salt that as soon as we sat down our waitress gave us and explained with all sorts of glimmer in her eyes the origins of this particular salt- which I did not really pay attention to ( I was too busy studying the drink menu), but I am guessing it  was a step up from the Morton Salt I use at home, not that I could tell the difference.  I did have a damn good boilermaker (and if by chance you don’t know what that is- which is borderline ridiculous, ps- that is beer with a shot of liquor in it…hellllloooooo) and I can’t even remember what I had to eat, but I remember it was alright too.

Danny and Charlie, in their pink

Me and the other 2 knuckleheads...oh and more importantly, the boilermaker pictured bottom right corner

Every now and then they like each other. 🙂

The only thing left in the list…sleep. So good night you little sweeties (the kids, not you readers).  See you tomorrow for more of the same.

Back to Boulder and the freaks. hip hip hooray!!!

And you thought JonBenet's house was as good as it was going to get??? Anyone recognize this crizzac?? And in case you think I am some sort of psycho (which I guess maybe I am, but not a murdering kind of psycho) little hint: no one got murdered here (bummer, I know)....ANYONE??? It's the Mork and Mindy House. No, I am not kidding...and it is just 2 blocks from our house. I can enjoy it everyday if I want to (read...yes, I could, but I have not been back by since this little photo). And to think I said my blog was not going to be educational?!

We couldn’t stay in Denver forever (read…thankfully), it was time to get back to business (read…monkey business) and back to  Boulder.  And now would  be a good time for me to share a few things that I have learned about Boulder in my short time here:

1)It does in fact get hot here, real hot.  And yeah, I know, “it is not as humid”, blah, blah, blah…”it’s dry heat”, blah, blah, blah; but just so all you North Carolinians know, I am sweating my balls off.

2)A hike labeled or categorized as “moderate” in the tourist literature is going to be a hard as a mother fucker, so get ready!! And maybe don’t bring your 7,9, and 11 year old… or your husband for that matter. Some things may be better enjoyed solo, not that I have had the privilege of learning that first hand.

3)Showering here is totally optional and not high on anyone’s daily to do list. Which as unpleasant as it can be when you are at an Arts Festival where the majority  people are opting out of the showering (as I  unfortunately experienced and is discussed later in this post); I actually selfishly applaud the nonshowering concept in general, because I do not feel any pressure what so ever to clean up, knowing that no matter how bad I smell, somewhere in a 10 foot radius is someone who smells worse, much worse.

4)Housing is also optional…clearly  contributing directly to observation #3. If you don’t have a house, you are not going to have a place to get cleaned up I get that ; except that maybe Boulder is trying to alleviate some of the nuisance of #3, as I was enlightened with the fact that the city actually permits and maybe even encourages the homeless to take up down at Boulder Creek, and basically live…as long as it is with in  20 feet of the creek. WHATEVER. And I should also mention that Boulder Creek is a huge tourist area (also discussed later in this post), so it’s not like these people are kept out of eye shot.

5)You have not felt like a Communist until you have driven a gas guzzling Surburban around the streets of Boulder. Unlike North Carolina,  people here do not drive Suburbans. AT ALL. Instead  they love the shit out of a Subaru and a beat up old truck. Again, I applaud that. Wish I had known that before I got here, though I am thinking the backseat of a Subaru Outback would have been cramped with my skateboard and our 60 tons of other junk.

6) it is way easier to get pot here than it is to get a bottle of wine or liquor…not that I have, but just pointing out the liquor store (they do not sell wine in the grocery store like they do back in NC) is about 6 blocks away; passing about 9 dispensaries en route.

We were lucky that when we got back to Boulder there was a big Arts Festival going on down on Pearl Street, which is the place to be. There is no way to better experience the true freaks of a place more than a good arts festival. As stated earlier, (number 3 and 4) there is a showering and homeless situation that were both in full effect during said  arts festivities. But there also happened to be a lot of other cool art, almost enough to distract from the body odor situation and other sketchiness.

And there were street performers. What’s better than a street performer??  One of our personal faves: Zip Code Man. What is Zip Code man you ask?? A really freaky little guy who you tell your zip code to and he not only tells you what city you are from, but also some little fact about your crib; like a restaurant or a school or something. It was pretty amazing. And creepy.  It should also be pointed out that he is able to know as many zip codes as he knows and has a lot of time to study up on them because he surely does not have a friend. Well, maybe an imaginary one or two; living, of course, in some exotic zip code.  Not surprisingly, my kids were all too eager to throw out our zip code, which he knew.  Fingers crossed that Zip Code Man doesn’t  make his way over to 27104. Just saying.

No comment.

You also can’t help but to love a street performer who has fire and knives and is now calling your 9 year old up to be his assistant. Good luck with that DJ, better you than me. I hate fire and I have really not a lot of desire to throw a knife at anyone (well, except for Danny every now and then. I kid.). Luckily DJ did not burn himself or injure the performer and the show was enjoyed by all!! Also enjoyed was a contortionist (see picture) and a few magicians.

Pictured: My little DJ and very sketchy dude holding fire, squirting out lighter fluid; not pictured: knives that DJ was about to throw at this moron.

We also had some time to get out on the bikes for awhile and took in a little University of Colorado and the serenity of the Boulder Creek Trail. And by serenity I mean: if your idea of serenity is witnessing  several of the aforementioned homeless people swimming (read…bathing) in the Creek, in addition to nonhomeless  people  tubing down the creek in desperate search of either a possible drowning  or maybe a brain injury. Apparently people do it all of the time, for fun…even kids. I am just not feeling the same need. I know, I know, when in Rome…but sometimes even Romans have bad ideas.

Candy Making in the Mile High City. Sound exciting? Well, it’s not!

One of the many problems when traveling with these boneheads is that they do not suffer from the same insomnia that I do; which even though I am complaining about it, I am well aware that the alternative would really suck… really really suck. Can you imagine how bitchy I would be if even one of these kids started blessing me with their presence when it was like 6:00 AM?? Well, I can, and I can assure you that it is real bitchy. But for my blog purposes we will not think about that and  I will in fact complain about their lack of insomnia, specifically in a situation, like our present one where are all holed up in a hotel room together. Like I said, I do not want to have to chill with any of them at 6:00 AM, but having to tip toe around and search through my bag for clothes to wear being guided solely by the light of my phone is a pain in the ass- even though it sounds a little Jason Bourne-like and glamorous; The reality is, I am not searching for any classified information, just a pair of shorts and if I am lucky a bra…just something to be halfway presentable in public (read…not even halfway presentable, I’d be ok with 1/4 presentable) and it feels more like petty theft and yeah, it gets old. Even more depressing is the night before I was trying to avoid this whole situation by nipping it in the bud by trying to get  hammered, but these days, even overindulging in the Coors light (or whatever my alcohol of choice may be on any given night) does not buy  me extra sleep like it used to; not to mention, I was so busy chatting away with my boy AL, I had a hard time breaking away and getting up to the concession stand- so,  I have no one to blame but myself, and of course Danny.  Damn, getting old really sucks. The good news in this particular situation is there was a kick ass gym in the hotel, so I rolled up there at 6:00 when I woke up.

I won’t bore you with all of the details of how awesome the gym was except to say that not only did it have a full court basketball court smack dab in the middle, it had a rock wall, at least 250 cardio machines (including a bunch of random ones that I have never seen in my life) and my fave: some kind of structure that had a 30 degree ramp on one side and steps on the other side. I was so enamored with this gem (hahahaha get it?? gym, gem?? so crafty)  that for a second I considered moving to Denver just to use this thing everyday; but then came to my senses and remembered that I hate snow and cold temps, so instead of cranking out some intervals on this step/ ramp contraption; come January I would most likely be laid up in my bed eating warm brownies drinking hot toddies; yeah, I better stay in Winston for now.

Rock wall, with no safety harness, etc. huge bonus; and see those steps on the side? those are to run up and the ramp goes down the other side. Seriously, how cool is that??

And that is the ramp. I know this does not excite a lot of you, but it does me

Of course after killing way too much time at the gym trying out all the random stuff and giving the lazy asses in my family time to catch up on their sleep, I returned back to the room  and they were STILL asleep, still. Come on dudes, time to get up, I am HUNGRY!!!! After a little bfast, I thought I would treat them to the fun of the gym. That is one of the best parts of having boys, and specifically boys who enjoy sports, you take them to a basketball court and it is like taking them to Six Flags. They could have stayed there all day. Especially exciting to them was that the basketball the court was sponsored or owned or something by one of my ex favorite players in the NBA- Carmelo Anthony(and by ex I mean my ex-favorite, not ex-player,he still plays; he just hasn’t aged that well, he used to have cute corn rows/braids, but he cut those and he’s not even big and fat like that cutie Prince Fielder so he has fallen out of my good graces)…so it had his logo all over the court. Bummer for him, he got traded from the Nuggets to the New York Knicks (although I am sure his wife, TV personality Lala Vazquez is happy about that). I am not sure what is going to happen to that court, and I am sure most of you could give two shits. Anyway fun was had by all, and I finally had to crack the whip and get these fools out, we had a candy factory to get to.

Charlie is always up for a work out

HEAVEN

It was promising out there in front of the truck...but disappointment was lurking inside

Hammond’s Candies= next stop. A real legit, candy factory- and if you know me, when I am not busy using my mouth for throwing out profanities, I am using it to inhale as much candy as possible; so this is big for me.

Not exactly sure what they are looking at; But I am sure what they are not looking at: cute little oompa loompas singing their songs

Well, Hammond’s Candy is not the Willie Wonka factory that I was hoping for. And I guess looking back now and realizing we just showed up there and there was no Golden Ticket involved, maybe I should have set my standards a little lower. There was no chocolate river, no 3 course meal gum, no lickable wallpaper, and most importantly no freakin oompa loompas. BUMMER.  It was in an office park in South Denver and there was just a bunch of machines and normal height people working them. Ugh, broken dreams. Also somewhat depressing, they are mostly known for their candy canes and other hard candy. Ummmmmm, booooo. I hate hard candy. I am mostly about chocolate, but I have been known to often enjoy a sour patch kid or 2 (read…more like 70 or 80) and some Skittles- but hard candy, no. In a surprising little factoid: despite my spending most of my life and lots of my caloric intake consuming large,  I’m sure unhealthy amounts of sugar, I  have only had one cavity and have avoided ever having to have anything like a root canal or crown or whatever other kind of dental ridiculousness most of you have probably had; and I am not going to chance  busting up one of my teeth while sampling one of their free little hand out hard  candies. Talk about ruining a vacation, emergency dental surgery?? I’ll pass.  The good news, they also happen to specialize in something called a Mitchell candy which is marshmallow wrapped up in caramel- that is way more my speed, so I bought a pound of them bitches.

Ya-Ummmmmm

And another little bummer, they are moving into the "natural candy market" using crap like beet juice for coloring...for real?? Talk about ruining a good thing?!

Also worth mentioning, having felt like white trash the night before with our car and hoarding situation… well being around the other people on this tour, I am feeling real good about myself; because:

a)I have showered today or at least once in the last 4 days

b)I am not missing any teeth; and even if I had had some sort of dental catastrophe that hindered me minus a tooth or 2, I would opt for a fake one, so no one would ever know I was missing it; the peeps on our tour? They do not share the same beliefs.

c)I was older than 16 when I had a baby

d)I am not enjoying a big gulp of who knows what was even there, but the cup was the size of a basketball and I am positive it was not water

e)the clothes I have on are not 2-4 sizes too small for me.

Sometimes I love the way the world works! 🙂  Oh and even though I may be underwhelmed by  Hammond’s, they have made it into Oprah’s magazine as one of her favorite things. So they do get props from others. Well done Hammond’s. Oprah knows her shit…I just hope she doesn’t think about coming for a little visit, Because I bet she will be just as disappointed not to find an oompa loompa or 2 there.

Rockies, Rockies, and AL

Alright assholes, it’s back to keeping it  real and letting the 4 letter words roll, kids get back to watching Nickelodeon!!! hahahaha. Maybe there really is no hope for me after all!!! 1 post is all I lasted. Weak, even for me.

So we are getting ready to bust a move out of Crooked Creek Younglife  Ranch and back down to all the stoners and freaks back in Boulder. What a strange juxtaposition (how ya like me now with that big word?? Albeit with a good chance that I used it incorrectly).  Here we are as we are getting ready to hit the road.

Me and my little angels...and see that stuff back in the back?? Well, that my friends is the Continental Divide. Which, in the spirit of full disclosure, I have no fucking idea what that is- it looks like all the other mountains...but I guess it is special? If it falls under the history category, well then no big shock that I don't know. And you know what?? I also happen to not be great at geography...so, just google it. And then be impressed that I saw it, and I have a photo...get up on that.

Upon the suggestion of one of the other peeps up at Crooked Creek, we have decided to take in a little Rocky Mountain National Park on the ride home. Just a drive thru, no hiking,  and certainly no camping. Just taking it in from the comfort of my car (read…and I mean relative comfort, it would be way more comfortable had the Harrises or my buddy Stu offered to keep the kids for the rest of the week, but I’ll make the best of it)  while listening to some  DMX and a little Dr. Dre and maybe Biggy Smalls, as we  snack on M&Ms, chips and Dr.Pepper.  That is about as roughing it as I get these days.

There's a little family pic for you all. And see that white crap on those mountains?? That is snow. No joke. It is July. And since you all know we rock shorts in the snow (check out the photos from Niagara Falls), we are dressed perfectly for sledding!

It was a really, really cool drive (and cool as in both temperature and scenery, unlike the sweat shop known as Kansas). I was able to enjoy it even with the fairly certain knowledge that Danny was going to send us careening over the side of the mountain and we were all going to die. Not necessarily any fault of his own (though I have been known to take issue with his driving on occasion; but only because,  not shockingly, I am a way better driver than he is).

Look at those Moose...or maybe it's elk, I can't remember the difference

More wildlife and more mountains, just call me Daniel Boone

After a nice, leisurely drive (much more nice and much more leisurely than any of the hikes we have set out on); we were back at the house and put on the mission of both unpacking from this little trip and then also packing  not only for our jaunt over to Denver the next day, but we were moving into a different house upon our arrival back in Boulder. Man, do we have a lot of stuff. And, I am trying to concentrate, but I have just heard the devastating news about J Lo and Marc Anthony splitting up. What a shock. Do you think he is jealous of her success?? Although, isn’t that her 3rd divorce? She must be a total head case (not that I am one to talk). Ok, I don’t have time for this. I needed to focus and was finally able to break away from the TMZ and Perez Hilton long enough to gather up our massive amount of stuff. Now we just have to get it back in the car.

First, the good news, all that crap fit perfectly right back into our car and we were out bright and early for Denver. Now, the bad news, as we were pulling into our hotel in downtown Denver, it was once again obvious that we are just a small step up from white trash. We looked like the Clampetts as we were parked out in front of the Ritz. You know things are bad when they can’t even put your car in the garage, they just have to leave it parked out front. And imagine how pissed they are, trying to run an upscale hotel and they’ve got some yahoos tarnishing the image.

And it may be worth pointing out the pimped out Range Rover and Mercedes and then us. I know the hotel management could not wait for us to leave

We were going to a Rockies game later that night, but we decided to do a little walking around and touring of the city. After all, it was 95 degrees, perfect sight seeing weather. And just like the JonBenet house, I can mark the Colorado state capital building off of my bucket list (read…it wasn’t really on there fools, but there wasn’t alot with in walking distance and I sure as shit wasn’t going to: a children’s museum, a natural history museum, a zoo or an aquarium). So capital building here we come!

will is always a sucker for artillery

A little Colorado state capital for ya; not even the slightest idea who that is in the statue. Learning is for idiots.

I don’t even think we have visited the capital of our home state North Carolina, but now we have seen Denver- I hope that comes in handy for us all. And we didn’t even tour or learn anything (thank the lord); just walked around and snapped a few pictures.  I am sure there is some fab stuff in Denver, but I have no real desire to ever go back. Unless I get my hands on a better travel guide than the one I already have,. After killing a few hours in the hotel room (part of which I locked myself in the bathroom, on purpose, to get away from the kids, and Spongebob Square pants); it was time to get on over to Coors Field. Did someone say Coors?? Hell, yeah, sign me up. Things are looking up on the baseball front.

A picture to prove we were there. I am now accepting resumes for a new blog photographer, ps.

As if the beer wasn't enough to make my night...LOADED TATER TOTS. yes.

Things I can tell you about the Colorado Rockies vs. Milwaukee Brewers game 7/14:

1)the Rockies won, but I have no idea what the score was

2)there is a really good, fat dude on the Brewers named Prince Fielder who is my new favorite player. Anyone that can be that fat and still play professional sports I am a fan of. And a side note…it was reported at the All Star Game (no, I was not watching…Danny filled me in onthis little nugget  when I would not stop talking about my crush on him) that when he was 1 he weighed 50 pounds. How awesome is that?? Will is 7 and weighs 50.

3)I do not know a single player for the Rockies

Things I can tell you about Al (who was seated next to me and pictured here)

The KU hat is Will's attempt to win my attention from my boy Al

1) he was born and raised in Leavenworth, KS

2)he studied engineering at University of Kansas

3) he now resides in Ann Arbor, MI (hence the hat)

4) he was employed by Ford back in the day

5)he has 2 kids, a boy and a girl and 4 granddaughters and 1 grandson (son and grandson pictured being ignored to his right)

6)his son lives in Denver and his daughter in Ann Arbor

7)he looks a little like David Letterman

And I could go on and on and on (kind of like Al, and I guess now that I think about it, kind of like my blog posts…no wonder we hit it off) and provide at least 10 other random facts about him, my point being…I spent the entire game having my ear talked off by this sweet man. I guess I can’t complain too much, but you know I will anyway. I’ll make sure I invite you all over when he comes to Winston-Salem, NC for a visit (fact #7,he has never been to NC before)…you know I offered it. 🙂 I hope he finds me on Facebook.

So the game was over, big win for the Rockies (who I guess we were cheering for, even though that hot Prince Fielder dude was on the other team). It was time to hoof it back to the hotel and rest up for tomorrow’s big day. Spoiler alert: it involves a candy factory.

Gather the kids around the computer, this is a family friendly post…but don’t get used to it!

And my apologies if the only reason you are reading my blog is to get your daily dose of profanity and/or  inappropriate suggestions and situations. Just bypass this post and hook back up with me on the next post…things will be back to normal.

Are you perplexed about why in the world there is a sudden change in blog philosophy?? Why after 37 years, am I cleaning up my act (albeit temporarily)? Cuz the Mensh family is going to camp, Younglife camp… in Fraser, Colorado. Gasp…I know you are all puzzled about how a person like me can end up in a place like a Younglife Camp- and that is fo sho valid puzzlement. If your only exposure to me is through this blog, you most likely have no idea that I can sometimes (rarely) be on good behavior and stay on the straight and narrow (well, maybe not straight and narrow, more like slightly bent and medium width) and do not always  feel it necessary to engage in questionable behavior. Shocking, I know…but true.  Don’t make me get character witnesses up in here. Also, I know some of you are concerned for the poor souls that are innocently trying to enjoy a week at camp and when I show up there, it is going to be the catalyst for a lightning strike and all of these poor kids are in danger. That too, a valid concern. I will let you know how that turns out.

Back to the original question…why am I here. Lucky for us some of our friends from home were vacationing at the Crooked Creek Ranch (read…4 of their family members were vacationing while one was working as Camp Doctor) and they invited us to come up for a little visit- and you know how I love to accept an invitation. Sooooooo, pack your bags kids (read…and by pack I mean, just leave all of your junk strewn all over the house just like you always do, I got it) we’re taking a trip!!!  After a 2 hour nice, scenic drive up and over a mountain (which also meant a 20 degree temperature drop to a comfortable 65 or 70…and to all you Winston peeps, not to rub it in, but that was the day it was like 125 degrees there…suckers) we were there.  In a perfectly timed arrival, we were immediately ushered (man, I love some Usher, I am glad he has made a little mini comeback, that new song he has with Pitbull, so catchy)…into the dining room. Now I have no real problem cooking meals for my family. I don’t really complain about it and truth be told, I kind of like it. BUT, not having to cook or even better, not having to decide what to cook and just eating what is in front of you…THE BEST! So liberating!!!

Lunch- check. Now time to acquaint ourselves with this ranch and figure out what we were going to get into for the next 24 hours. OMG, this place is big…and hilly…and Kelly is so tall and walks so fast. And all of those tacos for lunch and my churro…maybe I should have paced myself a little bit on the food front.

Let’s see. First up: The BLOB (inflatable giant whoopie cushion looking thing where you jump like 50 feet down onto and catapult someone else sitting at the opposite end into the water, and in my experience, suffering a mild case of whiplash while doing it)…check…sidenote, water temperature= 40 degrees. What fun is camp with out a little hypothermia?  Plus we have the inside track to the camp MD, so we are good.

they don't look that cold right??? Not even a purple lip

Next up: Engage in a little parent/ kid wiffle ball game- check. And of course in keeping it real, we beat the heck out of those loud mouthed kids. Luckily Chuck and Kelly are almost as competitive as we (read…I) are (am) and they were willing to kick it up a notch in order to make those kids get a healthy dose of Loserville. So fun(read…for us, they were all real sore losers…can’t imagine where they get that from???Oh, me…I am the sorest loser of all time).

Check out this legit field.

We were visiting on the night of the big “surprise carnival” and square dance. Time to break out the cowboy hats! And wait until they see me break out my worm at the dance…it’s going to be  tight!!

Unfortunately I did not get a picture after Kelly persuaded me to wear a Little House on the prairie/ Amish/ Michelle Duggar type dress, it was so stylish. Also worth noting, she did not wear one herself. And also worth noting, see that girl next to me that is 6 inches taller than me, she is 13. Man I am short.

Charlie seems to have inherited the short gene...Caroline is exactly one day older than he is...and a foot taller

DJ and Walker counting all their cash, and clowning around, of course

Charlie working on his cow milking, that ought to come in handy once we get back to the big city!!

The kids earned enough money to subject Chuck to a pie on the face!

After a fun filled carnival…We make the executive decision to bypass the Square Dance, after all, it was like 10:00 and we are old and it was way past our bed time. Not to mention in the spirit of full disclosure, my worm has not made a lot of progress since rearing it’s really ugly head and really poor form back in West Virginia a few weeks back (for those of you who did not get to experience it up close and personal, just take my word for it, that it was really bad)…I don’t think these Younglife kids can take it!! I will have to put some time and effort into getting it ready before I break it back out…stay tuned. Another reason for calling it a night…Walker had requested a sleepover with the Mensh kids and Danny and I happened to be staying in the Adults Only lodge, so the sooner we ditched out of the carnival, the sooner I would be able to offload these fools. Man, I really am a free loader!!! So it was off to bed for everyone!!! See you kids in the AM!!!!! If the place does not get struck by lightning in the middle of the night.

A little bedtime story though, in place of any tales of my worming- I have a good “small world” story. Very reminiscent of my Anchor Bar Buffalo, NY incident with Peter King (please, refer back to archives to dig up that one, it is well worth it). So, Kelly and I had been on a little hike earlier in the day and we were talking about how delicious the food had been (shocker). She mentioned that the head chef was from Winston and asked me if I knew a guy named Stu Peterson. NOPE, never heard of Stu Peterson. Actually I may have said the name sounded familiar, but I pretty much say that about anyone from Winston, so I don’t seem like such a loser when I realize I don’t know anyone from there. (and of course with my self diagnosed early onset Alzheimer’s, lots of things sound familiar) Anyway, end of subject. At least until we were eating dinner.  I kind of heard Kelly say, “oh, here’s Stu right here let me introduce you”…but, I didn’t really turn around too fast or pay too much attention because I was trying to bow up on the other people at the table to get my fair share of fried chicken and mac and cheese- that junk was good. But, as I am covering every available millimeter of my plate with food, I hear a voice say “ummmmm, yes, I know Reedy Gardner” (for those of you that are slow…my maiden name is Gardner). I look up and I don’t see some dude named Stu Peterson, I see Stu NELSON, who, yes I know from Winston, and I just happened to have gone to prom with his brother one year. How about that?? Kelly just had gotten his name mixed up. hahaha Is that so crazy?? It was great to catch up with him and I always love a good story to remind me how small the world is!!!

Me and my buddy Stu Peterson, I mean Nelson 🙂

After nightmares and fears that that bolt of lightning was still lurking and was going to hit while we were all asleep and burn the whole place down…you can imagine my excitement when my eyes opened the next morning to see the sun shining.

A little french toast breakfast for the trip and a quick game of wiffle ball and we were back on the road again.

Look at that, in the spirit of Younglife, not a single word of profanity in that post!!  Maybe there is hope for me after all!! Oh and I need to give a special shout out to Hannah who has a broken leg and was such a darn trooper. She hobbled around on those crutches and did not complain at all. If that had been me, I would have been laid up in my bed, bossing people around and beating down anyone who crossed my path!!!

Thanks for the fun times Harris family and Crooked Creek Ranch!!!

Destination Reached…finally

We are finally here. 19  days and 27,000 miles later. (ok,3 days and  1800 miles, but it sure seems longer than that traveling with these morons). Any guesses where we landed (and by landed, I of course mean in our car, if this is the first post you’re reading, please do not get  the wrong idea like we might have flown out here or anything silly like that) ??

You should be able to figure it out from this little snapshot, unless you are one of my older readers and struggle with the small print...Charlie, still with the hat, ps

Drum Roll: BOULDER, COLORADO. Our home base for the next 2 1/2 weeks.

We were finally here and it was finally time to get a little settled and be reunited with all of the heaps of stuff that has been locked away in the Skybox for the last 4 days. Awwwwww, hello skateboard, I have missed you so much. Oh and 11 other pairs of foul-smelling kids shoes,hooray! And my magic bullet…I have missed you too. For God’s sake, it’s a blender you pervs…for smoothies and milkshakes. Grow up people.  We are finally staying in a house, so we have more than 600 square feet to destroy. And  as a big huge bonus we are directly across the street from a brand new turf sports field and then lucky for us there also appeared to be some sort of maintenance issue on our street and it was blocked off to thru traffic- which translated for us as a car free bike track that the kids could just ride their bikes up and down for hours (read…leave me the hell alone). For a family of five that has been all up on each other for the last 4 days, this is all welcome, much needed  news.

see, kid riding bike and Charlie and Danny on the field prepping for the upcoming football season

Well, it was our first full day here in Boulder and it is time to start knocking out my “to do list” activities. The first one: a nice, leisurely hike. Nothing crazy, we still need to get adjusted to the altitude right??  Well, that sounded like a great idea; one that went all to hell in a hand basket quickly!! We sure started out on a nice leisurely hike…look at all of those smiles and barely even a glimmer of sweat.

Flatirons in back...little did I know we were going to get way too close to those em effers

I guess I started to get bored just strolling, so when we came to a crossroads and a chance to see something called Royal Arch, we (read…I) decided it was calling our name. We had hiked about a mile (an easy mile) and the sign said  Royal Arch was only a mile up. How bad can a mile be? Ummmmmmmm, really, really fucking bad. Especially when you are dragging 3 kids along with you- one or 2 of which do really not enjoy expending a lot of energy, no matter what the circumstance; nevermind that circumstance being lost (we weren’t actually lost, but that sounds better and more desperate) on the side of a mountain whilst attempting to climb straight up said mountain, with a loud mouthed Mom insisting that they pick up the pace.  I don’t really know how things got so out of hand so quickly. One minute we were all holding hands checking out wildflowers on fairly level ground  and the next minute  we were in an episode of Man vs. Wild and I was Bear friggin Grylls, except for the fact, that I don’t have any darn survival skills. Clearly if I did we would still be skipping along through the meadows at the base of the Flatirons instead of scaling  rocks and jumping over streams. The sign said that the hike was moderate…well, apparently out here in Boulder, their idea of moderate is way, way different than my idea of moderate. This was like trying to climb a wall. It was craziness, but being admittingly possibly bipolar or at the very least mentally unstable, there is no way in hell I was turning back. And unlike Bear Grylls, I did have a decent amount of water and snacks so we would not be subjected to drinking our own pee or having to kill a squirrel and eat the meat (both of which and I would have been up for and sure would have made for a darn good blog post).  We had plenty of  blow pops and  protein bars to keep our energy levels up- we’re golden!

Are we having fun yet??

So 8 miles and 4 hours later (read…1 mile and 1 hour) we made it to the top and to the Royal Arch.

Notice how much sweatier and how much more tired we all look...and be glad you can't smell us through the computer, just saying

what we were there for

Coming back down was obviously not near as bad as getting up that thing…it was of course, not without incident; as one kid fell… and cried… twice. And seeing how I am not known for my nurturing of crybaby type behavior- well, it was tough. Poor thing (read…me, not clumsy, crying kid). The good news; Number 2 of my Top 5 things on my to do list was eagerly awaiting us and we loaded back in the car, for just a short little , few block away drive. Any guesses on what else I was dying to see??

how about this angle?

Look familiar??

And here it is.

 

I know there are some of you who have no idea why in the world I am showing you this house and I applaud that. Even though you are reading this blog and obviously have a lot of spare time on your hands…well, maybe back 15 years ago that wasn’t the case… and then, there are those of you who know exactly what this house is and are just excited to see a picture of it and happy for me that I got to see it in person, and that’s why we are friends. Thanks for being a loser like me. For those of you non-losers:  This is the actual house in which that poor little 6 year old beauty queen JonBenet Ramsey got killed. The.actual.house. Can you believe it?? In a cruel twist of faith, it is for sale right now, but Danny has drawn the line at posing as potential buyers to get an up close and personal view inside. I guess I kind of get his point, but, seriously, how money would that be??? Maybe next year. The downside to all of this fun and sightseeing is that the kids (who are usually off in lala land somewhere) are all of a sudden taking an interest in the significance of this house. So I start to explain about the unsolved murder of a little 6 year old girl who was found in the basement on Christmas morning. hmmmmmmmm, sleep tight tonight kids!! hahaha! Then in an attempt to stave off the nightmares of child murderers roaming Boulder, I offer up my own hypothesis as to what happened- she pissed her parents off and one of them killed her…perfect, now they have nothing to fear but me and Danny. Maybe that’ll keep them in line. 🙂

Whew, jam-packed day. Hike, bike riding, visiting house of extreme historical significance. How can this possibly be topped? I bet we can do it!!! Stay tuned!

kansas, kansas, and more kansas- the fun just keeps on coming

With all of the excitement of the pink elephant, I forgot to tell you where we ended up that night. Is the suspense killing you? Probably not, but just for the sake of argument, I am going to assume that you have all been biting your fingernails and not being able to sleep because you are not exactly sure where we are. Well, the wait is over…and it is worth it: Kansas City. To be more specific: Kansas City Missouri. I won’t even get into my confusion on the whole Kansas City situation…you know Kansas City, Kansas vs. Kansas City, Missouri and why in the world there would ever even be a Kansas City in the state of Missouri. I don’t doubt that there is some sort of historical significance to it, but we all know that there is no way I am putting any time or effort into uncovering  that sort of info- I can live with that little unsolved mystery…If I had to pick something unsolved to know the answer to it would probably be: what happened to Caylee Anthony, or maybe if there really is a Bigfoot or not…I don’t know if I had to choose between those two…that’s a tough one. They both are so intriguing, way more intriguing than the Kansas City thing.

So, having already established that our car situation was preposterous in terms of embarrassing,  well, imagine my horror as we pull up to our hotel and not only is the Chaz on the Plaza Restaurant that is housed in our hotel offering al fresco dining in this  picturesque setting, but there is also a stringed quartet playing out in front, luring even more passersby out into the front. You know, now that I think about it,  it may have in fact have been a stringed trio or maybe a quintet (is that even a word?) Shit,  I can’t remember and I guess it doesn’t really matter, although I know you are all trying desperately to visualize this as you are reading and I want to paint as accurate a picture as I can for you (you’re welcome). And even more of a pisser, I can’t even tell you if they were any good because I was too busy having an anxiety attack as we rounded the block to pull into the valet. OMG- saved by the siren.  As we were turning  the corner, an ambulance in full lights, etc was high tailing it into the circle in front of us. Awesome, maybe someone died…this is surely going to take some heat off of our jalopy pulling  up in here. It worked out perfect, as everyone was busy rubbernecking trying to catch a glimpse of the corpse (read…no one really died, or even left in the ambulance for that matter) we unpiled our crap and busted a move to our room. I wish the most heartfelt speedy to recovery to my little angel that fell ill and saved me some of my white trash pride (and I sure do wish you or one of your buddies was in our next hotel stop- because we really trashed up the next joint…but that little nugget will have to wait).

See that statue- that's where the orchestra was...and that whole front area?? Jammed with people "enjoying" the music...thank you heart attack victim

Breakfast at the Chaz

Chaz Mensh at the Chaz

Due to our quick turn around time, I did not manage to learn too much about this particular Kansas City(or the other one for that matter). We stayed in some area known as Country Club something or other, but there was no actual country club, just a big outdoor pavilion/mall with tons of stores, restaurants, etc. We all needed to get out and walk as we had been in the car for a nonsensical  amount of time with out even so much as a pencil or an elephant to break up the drive. As much as I enjoyed this little area, I was a little perplexed because the whole thing was really old and really Spanish, as in architecture. No, I am not hating on anything Spanish…I Love Spanish and Spanish people and especially enjoy Spanish architecture, but we are not in Florida or California, we are in Missouri (or maybe Kansas). It just didn’t feel right. If anyone has an answer, hit me up and give me the 411. Not that I really truly care, but it’ll probably make you feel good to enlighten me, so come on. Anyway, Kansas City was quite an enjoyable city. Thank you.

As if the fine city of Kansas City hadn’t given us enough…look at what we found across the street.

I mean, what can I even say???

A giant shuttlecock...significance?? Who the hell cares?

So if you know anything about the geography of the state of Kansas (read…please, get a life and don’t admit to anyone, at anytime that you do) and then if you know anything about my family (please refer to above advice about state of Kansas knowledge) then you know that Lawrence, KS is just outside of Kansas City and then you also know that we are somehow required to stop at any college town that we come across for a little visit. I have no problem stopping anywhere (clearly), so if everyone else wants to see the University of Kansas, or Kansas University or whatever it is called, by golly I am in! Yet,  this brings me to a few interesting questions:

1)Do we like Kansas?? I have made the mistake before of not knowing who we were supposed to be cheering for (please refer to my NHL Pittsburgh Penguins cheering debacle, Spring Break 2011). I know some of us like Duke, some like UNC, and we kind of like NC State. However, we had passed through Lexington, KY earlier  and it was then established (at least to me) that we will not be stopping there because “we hate Kentucky”…although in the spirit of full disclosure I do think John Calipari is kind of cute, so I could easily be talked into cheering for them for a game or two. But, what do I know?

2)How fucking hot is it here?? I mean for goodness sakes…I have no problem at all with some hot weather, I actually enjoy it. But I really thought I might die after being outside for a mere seconds. This cannot be right or good for you.

And the answers:

1)So, after some careful prodding it is affirmed that we don’t necessarily “like” the Jayhawks, but we do “respect” them. That’s why we are stopping. Well, OK.  Glad we got that cleared up.

2) 108 degrees. For real. That is not me just trying to be funny. That was the actual temperature via weather.com. And let’s just say that if I never experience 108 degrees again, I will die a happy girl. And, if any of you ever, ever hear me complain about the heat in North Carolina (which I most likely never will because I am sure somehow tied into my serious, undiagnosed auto immune, neurological condition I am always cold…always. I wear a fleece all Summer and multiple layers the rest of the year) please punch me in the throat…I deserve it. Those poor bastards in Kansas, well,they have the right to complain about some heat.

So we saw Allen Field House:

And that would be the great Phog Allen, not that you people have any idea who that is

Just think how cute it would be if this little jayhawk was in the below pictured ART

This cool as shit branch statue, which just happened to be crafted by a dude from Chapel Hill, NC…hmmmmmm, interesting twist:

If I was in charge, this would be a Jayhawk nest or something cool for the mascot; but apparently it is just simply ART, whatevs

And then we cruised the Massachusetts Avenue strip and did a little shopping. And from this point forward, you will notice that Will and Charlie are forever sporting their new Rock Chalk Jayhawk hats, misrepresenting the fact that we are some kind of Kansas superfan family.

So, Kansas University- check; barely avoiding heat stroke- check; now it was back in the car for just a short little (read…miserable 8 hour) last leg of our drive. And even with all of my exhaustive researching, there was no place worth stopping. Most disappointing was my inability to manage a stop at the Biggest Ball of Twine in Cawker City, KS which even in my questionable judgements, I was able to conclude that the 90 miles out of the way this was, was a perfect time to “know when to fold ’em.”

We stopped in the surprisingly cool (and of course not cool in the sense of temperature, it was not 108 anymore, but still a balmy 104;  cool as in hip) little town of Hays, Kansas and enjoyed the highlights of the USA/Brazil soccer game, some darn good food, and some locally brewed beer.

lemonade+beer...thank you for that summertime combo LB Brewing Company, Hays, KS

Note the hats

Back on the road, and kids stop your bitching, it could be worse, we could be in this:

Really? A Giant Pencil and a Pink Elephant are enough to keep you interested? WOW, Thanks!

We have already established that we do not travel lightly(hello, Spring Break 2011 and hello being scrutinized by the stupid know- it- all valet in Pittsburgh- yeah, again go back and reread if you don’t know what I talking about…although kind of like Harry Potter, I do not feel it is necessary to have read every previous post to enjoy subsequent ones…so power through, you can always go back and cross reference as need be). I think I may have a little bit of hoarder deep down in me (read…not actually that deep, you should see my attic) and one of the ways it tends to manifest itself is in the overpacking. Hmmmmmmm, that should probably be reported to my medical team, note to self. I thought it was embarrassing before to have an absolutely crazy amount of stuff as you come out of a hotel on your departure day; well in having everything be relative, you have not experienced real embarrassment until you have been in the downtown of some nice city in front of some swanky hotel with piles of your crap everywhere on the street, including but not limited to: an air mattress, a cooler, 4 pillows, a couple blankets, several shoes- not necessarily of coordinating types, a laundry bag of dirty clothes and several other mismatched bags all about to blow a zipper- had we not been freshly showered, we could have passed for a homeless family, easily.  And to think that all of this rubbish needs to be loaded into your car which, ps, looks like a sporting good store threw up on it with its Skybox on top (thankfully  not transparent to reveal an even more absurd amount of stuff crammed in there)and 5 bikes strapped to the back.The good news is the valet here took one look at our car and one look at us and then  the mile high pile of crap we had and in David Copperfield fashion he suddenly disappeared. Poof. That was real helpful for us, but I’m pretty sure one of the pillars of valet employment is loading and unloading bags- he may not have a real bright future in this line of work. Valet out of the picture; now I am just hoping  that maybe everyone is too busy looking at the naked pictures or statues or drag photos to even notice the calamity going on outside. Fingers crossed. I won’t bore you with the details of the major marvel of engineering that got everything perfectly placed (read…indiscriminately jammed) into where it came from and we were back on the road. Any guesses what we had to see… (read…what I got outvoted in a severely lopsided 4-1 vote)before we left town?

let's see...who is that horse? barbarosa? or secretariat? or sea biscuit? maybe black beauty? Shit, I don't know, I told you I don't pay attention...and before you all start going conspiracy theory on me again, here's a picture with Danny, now keep your mouths shut

We are in Louisville and we (read…some of us, not all of us) feel an overwhelming need to see any and all sports venues that are in a 20 mile radius. SO, naturally, Churchill Downs here we come!!! The home of the Kentucky Derby. A sports venue historical gem…and no longer bitter from my being outvoted, I am now on board. There is actually a pretty cool museum there at Churchill Downs for all of you horse enthusiasts to put on your bucket list. I particularly enjoyed the: “come on kids let’s learn how to bet and wager and discover what a return on your money might be like” virtual exhibit…well, it’s no naked kid statues (see  21c Hotel child porn info); but I am thinking this is not the best skill set I need my probably addiction genetically predisposed kids learning that the bigger the bet, the bigger the pay off.  After one round of intense cyberbetting, thankfully our tour was getting ready to depart. And to think I said my Trail of Randomness wasn’t going to be as educational as the Underground railroad?  Liquor and gambling, with a little side of porn- where else can you get all of that in a mere 2 days???

Now, in no disrespect for the people of Louisville or in wishing bad things on others(read…I do not need anymore bad karma coming my way)  in a stroke of luck, a good portion of the barn area of Churchill Downs was obliterated in some tornado a few days or weeks or months ago.  Why is this of interest to me?? Well, it wasn’t until I realized that this would positively impact our taking part in the “behind the scenes barn tour”- and by positively impact I mean- it was a no go. Thank the lord. It is hot as blazes and I think horses are cute and all, but I do not need to go visit them as they stand in their crap (or manure or whatever you wanna call it) filled stables. Crap+heat= nasty. No thanks! I am from North Carolina, if I want to smell hot horse turds I can get that back at the crib. So, on with the tour-the one that doesn’t include the rank barn!!! Godspeed on getting that stuff rebuilt, ps.

Let’s see…what did I learn as I wandered the grounds of CD? Ummmmmm, not really a thing about the history of that place (that could just be my unwillingness to learn anything historical). The only thing I realized during the visit is: Why the hell am I not a horse jockey?? Well, aside from my aversion to horse manure. I mean really, as the tour guide talked about the that main criteria to be a jockey is height and they are never really taller than 5’4″ and they have to know how to control an animal through physical and mental tactics. Hello!!!! I am only 5’3″ and I can control the shit out of these 3 little animals named Charlie, DJ and Will through physical and mental tactics. It sounds like the perfect job for me. Although, there aren’t really that many women that do it, maybe there is a reason for that??  And maybe all those 5’3” and under men out there- this is all they have. I mean let’s face it-at that height they are most likely never going to be able to find a wife, or really that many friends, so it’s just going to be them and their horses. Ok, I will let them keep their little (hahahha, get it? little??) nitch and I will let my dreams of finding the perfect career continue!!

On the track, where I am sure I could have won, big time

Ok, enough learning for the day. It’s on to the real fun. And by real fun I mean Santa Claus, Indiana. For Reals. A town called Santa Claus. In Indiana. Right off the road we are traveling down. This has got to be good. I love the shit out of some Christmas, so I can only imagine how over the top this place is going to be (remind me to tell you about our stay in Pigeon Forge, TN at the 365 day Christmas hotel, that place was the bomb). Well, too bad I had imagined anything bigger than Mayberry, NC, cuz  that’s basically what it was, a little podunk town with an extremely misleading name. Aside from the fact that it was the home to the world famous(read…trailer park world) “Holidayworld”- which even I had the good sense not to propose stopping at and enjoying, but apparently was the only one in the state of, well, whatever state we were in or close to, that had the same self control. The place was friggin packed, like Disneyworld kind of packed and it was hot as balls out and we are in the middle of nowhere. Man, some people are just crazy with  the things they do. Oooooooops, glass house.

Outside of the town hall of Santa Claus, IN...not a sleigh ride to be found...blasphemy

So, again, maybe I have unrealistic expectations of what certain places should offer, or maybe I am just some sort of marketing genius that once again  has missed her calling (I mean just in this blog post we have all agreed I should have been a horse jockey). Anyway, point being, if you are going to market a place called Santa Claus, you should bring it. I am officially throwing my hat in the race as either the next mayor or possibly secretary of tourism- yeah, secretary of tourism, I bet I can do that remotely, cuz I sure as hell am not living in Santa Claus, well, at least until I get it looking and feeling the way I want it to feel. Which is going to take some time.

List of things I hoped to see in Santa Claus, IN:

1)fake snow, everywhere…complete with igloos and maybe a penguin or too (which can be fake also, I don’t need PETA getting all pissed at me and the rest of the governmental employees that are going to be too busy christmasfying this hell hole and we need to devote all of our time and money to that, not fighting for our penguins)

2)reindeer, lots of reindeer….roaming free and also as pets, everyone should have a reindeer as pet, as their civic duty

3)elves, lots of elves…which will also be a a huge help for all of those short people who never made  it as a horse jockey. Come to Santa Claus, it’s no Churchill Downs, really, what a win/win, I get my elves, they get something else to strive for- being the best elf ever known…and they are also probably really good at riding reindeer- which I feel sure I could turn into some sort of tourist attraction too. Except for those em effers at PETA, they are just out to ruin me and Santa Claus, IN aren’t they??

4)Christmas music (ok, you would actually hear that not see it, but still)…there was none. Not a Jingle Bell or a Deck the Halls anywhere to be heard. That stuff would be coming out of everywhere.

Things I saw in Santa Claus:

1)That crappy Holiday World theme park, which didn’t even seem that festive, again with the misleading names

2)Some dilapidated building called “santa’s candy castle” which was about as close to a castle as I am to being Mrs. Claus, there was no moat, no spires, and was about 600 square feet- that ain’t no castle; and if that wasn’t enough- inside it was like a yard sale of ugly Christmas cast offs with a shelf  full of jelly beans, a soda fountain, and a stench that smelled suspiciously like cat piss

3)Not a single Christmas tree or even ornament, aside from inside of the Christmas store…which was weak, even with:

4)The Man himself, albeit a real low budget version one

This dude has no idea how touch and go his job security is...is a hat too much to ask?? No, it is not

Even though they came from a rat infested, soon to be condemned (at least I hope, though I have no idea what kind of building code they have in Santa Claus, but I am sure that will be required reading when I start my job as Ambassador of  Tourism), the jelly beans were enough to leave a pleasant memory of Santa Claus, IN forever etched in the kids’ hearts. Oh and we also made a little stop at the local Holiday Foods which as one might expect, was a complete and total shit hole, but they had bottled water and that’s what we needed. Everyone was happy and they had no idea what else we were going to get to see.

You guessed it (actually you probably didn’t, you probably expected something better…although if you happened to be looking at a map you would realize there isn’t a darn thing even close to Santa Claus, IN…but if you google  a little deeper, you too could see something like this in person):

Haubstadlt, IN- when I found this little treasure on the internet, it was billed as a pink elephant drinking a martini. So imagine my surprise when we pulled up and not only is the world famous (read…my stupid world) pink, martini drinking elephant front and center, but that chick landed herself a husband and a kid. Or at least that was my first thought. But, really, how close minded is that of me? Should I really assume just because that elephant is pink and drinking what appears to be a cosmo that it is a woman? Plenty of men love pink and (possibly drink cosmos…ok, maybe not)…I suppose it could be a male elephant, who has now found himself a sweet domestic partner and adopted a baby (ala Cam and Mitchell from Modern Family) or damn, they could both be women and have had in vitro (ala Melissa Etheridge and Tammy Lynn Michaels, except that this baby elephant does not look like David Crosby). Or, I guess it could just be a couple of friends with one of their kids. Wow, the possibilities are endless. You go ahead and  have them be whatever you want, you know kind of like an interactive blog. Although I do admit that giving up total control makes me sweat a little bit. At the end of the day, all that matters is the Mensh family has now seen 2 big pink elephants…how the hell many have you seen? Yep, that’s what I thought. In the words of Charlie Mensh “you just got slayed”!!!