A Holiday In The Mitten State

At last! A new blog! [And the fans go wild!! Well, all six of you anyway.]

So what the heck have I been up to for the last month that I couldn’t write in me blog, you ask? Well, a little bit o’ work training, a little bit o’ school, but most importantly, a lotta VACATION! Finally!

Yes, “T”, and the dogs, and I stuffed the Explorer full (including our bikes on my outstanding new bike rack) and made the 650 mile journey to Michigan to visit my family.

What a great week, I gotta tell you. It’s always so nice to go out there because there is absolutely nothing I am obligated to go do. I don’t have to be anywhere, I don’t have to do anything, and anyone who needs something from me is over 600 miles away – so “nana nana boo boo, I can’t hear you!!!” Plus it was very nice to hang out with everyone since I only get to see some of them every other year or so. We had a great time (dogs included!). A huge, hearty thanks goes out to everyone out in MI who made our trip so enjoyable!

Some highlights from my trip:

1. While in Michigan, I got to hang out with my cousin, “R,” who I hadn’t really gotten a chance to hang out with since he graduated boot camp with the Air Force Reserves a year and a half ago. As a former active duty Marine, it’s kind of cool to have this kind of bond with a family member of this generation, as we are the only two, so far, who have served in the Armed Forces. Naturally, amongst all the bonding, there’s plenty of ribbing about each other’s choice of service branch, but, truthfully, he picked the better one. That’s where I’d send my kids (but only after college so they could be commissioned as officers). However, I can still shoot better!!! (Ducking as R throws a virtual flip-flop at me!)

While we were out there, R took me to his local shooting range and we had a blast (pun not intended)! It had been five years since I’d been to a range or shot a weapon, period, so I figured I’d be a bit rusty. However, once I got my mags loaded and rounds chambered, it all came back – Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! – first five shots decimated the 10 ring. Awesome. I love the smell of gun powder after dinner. I had brought my Glock and my little Taurus Titanium ankle-biter revolver with me. This was the first time that R got a chance to shoot a pistol - I was pretty geeked to have been there for that. He did pretty well, too, considering he'd never shot a Glock before. He had this really cool semi-automatic, composite body mini-rifle, I think it was called a "Storm." That was really fun to shoot, too. Thanks again, R, for taking me to the range!! I can’t wait to return the favor!

2. “M’s” food. That boy can cook!! It’s the only place I can think of going where I can pig out all day long on really great cooking and not gain a single pound. That guy is my hero!

3. A popular hang-out on the family homestead is the front porch. Plenty of cozy seating and shade for 2/3 of the day makes for a great place to sit and shoot the breeze. One day after dinner, while sitting around letting our digestive systems ruminate M’s fabulous meal-o-the-day, attention turned to my dog, Zoie. Now, you’re all familiar with my “dumb” dog, Tucker. Well, this one is the “smart” one, but she is not, by any means, without her idiosyncrasies. Having spent much of her life as an “only dog,” and thus the sole recipient of her mama’s undying devotion (mama = me), she’s developed the darnedest tendency to want to mount/hump anyone who dares trump her status. Not entirely an unusual occurrence amongst the canine species until you realize, “hey, this dog has been spayed!” Upon consulting an animal behaviorist about this “habit,” I was told that this is a display of dominance. Unfortunately, the most targeted member of our “pack” to fall victim to these dominatrix tactics is “T.” T, being the boyfriend and all, naturally sucks up a lot of the attention she used to receive. Ergo, the “bitch” retaliates by attempting to make T “her bitch.”

So, on this particular evening, Zoie was feeling particularly saucy and decided to let T “have it.” What makes these events so hilarious (or perhaps disturbing) is that when she goes at it, she gives it her all. I mean, she just GOES TO TOWN on T’s leg. If you ever heard the term “grudge f***ing,” this is the “caninification” of this phenomenon (“personification” didn’t really seem like the appropriate word choice there). Of course, it doesn’t help that T lets her do it and laughs the whole time. Way to train, her baby, way to discourage the “unwanted” behavior. Geez.

Well, at the exact moment that Zoie’s doing her thing, my very proper, Victorian-raised Grandma appears at the front door. Oh. My. Lord. I wish I could bottle up the look on her face and open it up when I need a good laugh. It was a look of pure, unadulterated HORROR. Her jaw dropped so low, it was petting dust bunnies and, at the same time, she managed to scrunch up her nose in a look that only a lady brought up Victorian-style could pull off. I felt bad for having corrupted my grandmother with such an awful sight, but at the same time, I had a cathartic fit of laughter that I haven’t had in what feels like forever. It was almost one of those pee-inducing fits of laughter, like the ones that make tears flow out of your eyes. Words cannot possibly do justice to the hilarity of the moment. Take it from me, it was “oh-my-God” hysterical.

4. By the very nature of a “road trip,” things are bound to go wrong and you spend the next year telling everyone about the time you broke down on the side of the road and your dad made a head gasket out of your notebook cover (true story, by the way). Well, thanks to much advance planning, the acquisition of a Garmin GPS, and beaucoup dollars spent getting the Explorer road-ready, it was really looking like we were doing to have the unprecedented “perfect” road trip. The whole way out there, smooth as a baby’s bum. The return trip was going rather peachy as well. It was looking like we would be robbed of a cool road trip story. Well, not-so-fast kiddies! The last pit stop we made quite worthy of road-trip-story glory. Maybe not road-trip-story Hall of Fame, but at least an Honorable Mention.

At around 6 pm, we finally made it to Breezewood, a popular road stop along the I-70 route toward D.C. The way it’s set up, for those who haven’t seen it, is that basically it’s a built-in place to take a breather as you have to exit I-70 onto Route 30, only to get back on I-70 about 500 yards later. Long this short stretch, there is a plentitude of gas stations, hotels, fast-food places, and, yes, a Starbucks – a drive-thru Starbucks, even (go figure!). We were due for a gas up and a new round of soft drinks so, naturally, we stopped. We chose to stop at a Sheetz because they have an awesome made-to-order food service and their gas is usually the cheapest.

Well, when we arrived, it became clear that the local trailer park had cancelled the weekly hoe-down, so everyone flocked to the Sheetz for some “innertainment.” As I was pumping gas into my trusty steed, I look over at a vehicle pulled over to the side of the gas station. These people must have had at least 13 beagles of all ages traveling with them. The younger ones, around 4 or 5 of them, looking to be about 12 weeks old, were in the back of the SUV. The rest of them were kept in the plastic dog crates used for air travel…on the back of an open air trailer!!! There must have been 6-8 of these poor beagles, full-sized, sharing two average-sized dog crates. I wanted to vomit. Then, as the poor dogs are howling and barking, the fat ass that apparently owns them yelled at them to “shut-up” very loudly, as pieces of chili dog came flying out of his mouth. Attracting my attention, I gave him a VERY dirty look. He then put down the hot dog and got up to let some of the animals out. I’d like to think that my stern façade prompted him to act, but I think he was more afraid I’d call the cops on him. Clearly what was happening was not legit.

Then came time to use the potty. Wouldn’t you know it, there was a line for the facilities. Natch. So, I’m waiting in line in to use this disgusting bathroom (a bathroom so gross, even the soap dispensers are suspect), and I notice that these two girls, around 17-20 years old, were pointing at me, whispering, and snickering. Yeah, I’m sure I looked like a bucket of ass…I just got done driving 500+ miles! I don’t really give a flying crap what Joe Public thinks of me, so I ignored them. Then it occurred to me that they might be jealous – because I still had teeth. I managed to use the facilities quickly and without touching anything with my hands. I swear someone wrote “Ebola wuz here” on my bathroom stall. Ugh!

Just when I thought I was through being stunned, it came time to buy some hot chocolate. One would think that this would have been a quick transaction and they’d be right – if the person in front of them wasn’t inquiring about yesterday’s lottery numbers like most do about sports scores. She was at it for about 10 minutes…and there was only one person at the cash register. The line wrapped around the store. I was SO close to screaming, “Oh my God! I’ll give you a freaking hint – YOU DIDN’T EFFING WIN, LADY!!! NOW CRAWL BACK UNDER YOUR ROCK!!” Thank you, USMC, for instilling some presence of military bearing in my body. Surely I would have been arrested that night for assault with intent to harm.

The icing on the cake was when this huge, hulking guy walking past me with a cigarette dangling out of his grill hawked a giant wad of lung butter and spit it all over the store window. Peristalsis nearly failed me there. I almost lost the couple sips of hot chocolate I’d consumed while waiting in line behind the lottery woman.

Holy crap. I said to T, “ba-dee, ba-dee, ba-dee – that’s all folks! Let’s get the hell out of here!”

At around 10 pm, we made it home, safe and sound.

Thanks, again, to the entire MI crew for hosting me and the “family.” Your hospitality is always like none other and we can’t wait to come back in a couple years!!

Next post: My first week at George Mason University!

That's all for now. Thanks for reading!!