A NoDak Thanksgiving - On The Road Again, Part 2

The next morning, Thanksgiving Day, I awoke in a basement in North Dakota for the first time in my life and in my post-deep-REM-sleep stupor I momentarily had absolutely no fucking idea where in the hell I was. When I came to and remembered, it still didn't make a whole lot of sense to be waking up in a basement in North Dakota, but at least I knew I had not been abducted and would not have to fight my way out with this stuffed fish, a plan I had imagined when I saw him the night before. In fact, I was quite comfortable in my bed and by the squeak of the floorboards above me and the smell of toast wafting down, I knew breakfast proceedings were underway and I couldn't think of anything better in the world at that moment but to have a big, home-cooked, family style breakfast. The food and the company did not disappoint and this was only the beginning of a long, glorious day of eating and relaxing. We all knew there was a huge, traditional holiday dinner awaiting us and yet we still had a big breakfast and an even bigger lunch, only a couple hours later. Lunch consisted of cheese, salamis, shrimp, deviled eggs, a beef ball, crackers, and more that was way too hard to resist eating too much of.. so we generally did not resist. Somehow there was just gonna have to be room in our bellys for everything. On this day we would not deny ourselves anything!

As I mentioned in Part 1, dinner itself was an incredible display of traditional turkey (juicy, beautiful, seen to the left), smoked turkey (awesome and even awesomer cold sandwiches later), ham (sweet succulent swine), and all the trimmings you'd expect, all done perfectly. One unique addition to the table was the traditional Norwegian tortilla-like flatbread called lefse. In case you didn't know, North Dakota and other parts of the upper mid-west are full of Norwegian descendants and Jesse's family is no different. Lefse is one of those things Norwegian kids grow up eating and will always hit that perfect soft spot in their heart and stomach, so Jesse was in heaven. The traditional way to eat it is to spread it with butter, sprinkle a healthy dose of sugar on it, roll it up and enjoy... and enjoy we all did. I also brought a home-made Jewish tradition of my own to the party, the challah bread pictured here (I made it the day before we left, the rolls were meant for turkey sandwiches, they did not, however, make the trip.. I just couldn't resist eating them fresh.. I'm weak.. but look at them, aren't they pretty?! They demanded to be eaten right there and then). Anyways... after dinner there was, of course, dessert, and, just before we slipped into the inevitable food coma, pumpkin pies and pumpkin cheesecake made their appearance and proved to be the perfect ending to a beautiful meal. Soon we all retired to the living room to bask in the glow of our full stomachs and an HDTV. Even then, as we began to vegetate after this huge meal, I began to daydream of how good the leftovers were going to be.. speaking of which, do you know what you do with the leftovers in North Dakota? Just put them outside... good as any fridge. Man, I'm such a Florida kid, huh? Stuff like that (and having basements) is so foreign and gee-wiz impressive to me!

The next thing I remember is watching the show Deadwood on DVD. This show came to be sort of a soundtrack to our trip (a soundtrack with very, um, colorful language, as you know if you've seen the show). Once we started watching, it seems like we didn't stop, and that was OK with me. Wow, why wasn't I watching this show before?! Awesome, dirty, over the top, grotesque but really well acted cowboy melodrama.. I'm hooked. Check it out if you don't mind your cowboys and whores swearing even more than modern day sailors.

Two gambling adventures are next in my memory, one sad and frustrating, the other with a much happier ending. First up, me and Jesse (seen to the left, in happier, post-Thanksgiving-dinner times), being the sick degenerates we are, of course found our way to the local Indian casino to try our hand in their poker tournament. Well, this turned out to be a pretty miserable experience start to finish. We really should have never put our money down once we saw this place, but by the time we realized just how bad this was going to be, it was too late, the tournament had already started. Nobody but us really cares why this was such an awful tournament, I guess, but trust me, it was. The dealers were terrible, the structure was ridiculous, the players were old cranky farmers who all knew each other and had way deeper pockets than us. All in all a big waste of money.. and it's a dry casino, too. No booze! Who ever heard of such a thing?! We couldn't even drown our sorrows.

On the other hand, and against all reasonable expectations, bingo at the Knights Of Columbus was a joy! Danie, Lucy, Lucy's mom, and I spent Saturday afternoon playing bingo and pull tabs (North Dakota version of lottery scratch offs, basically) at the local KOC around the block. Now, Lucy and I are old pros from our days on the Vegas bingo circuit, where the competition is fierce and the stakes are high. We started as mere amateurs, but we had a passion to learn and were willing to pay our dues and work harder than anybody else, and by the time we each left Vegas we had slowly but surely worked our way up through the ranks. We were at the top of our bingo game. So, Devil's Lake bingo was not nearly as intimidating to us as it would be to most of you unschooled, wannabe bingo pros. And it felt good to get back in the saddle again! We all daubed our hearts out and were having fun, but, alas, victory was eluding us. It was down to the last game of the afternoon, do or die. As the game went on and on, the old man kept calling numbers and more numbers, the tension in the air was thick as the regulars anticipated a bingo call with every new number called.. surely this was the number that would end the game! I was only one number away, myself, and we were all getting so tantalizingly close. Finally, I hear "B... 5"... Bingooooo! I've got bingo! I had won! Victory was mine! $49 cold hard cash, baby! You may not be as naturally gifted as me, but if you practice hard enough and dedicate yourself to the craft of bingo, I know one day you, too, can be as good a bingo player as me... Just don't give up! On the way out, the nice old lady that ran the game told me she was glad I won because I "showed the ladies how to play"! That's right, ladies! How do like me now?

After bingo I partook in yet another very manly pursuit.. Me, Jesse, and Jesse's dad went out and shot the shit out of some shit! Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about! We drove out to the middle of nowhere, popped the trunk, loaded up, threw a Coke can out in a field, and took aim... you can call me Dead Eye Joel now. Seriously, for never having fired a rifle before, I feel like I acquitted myself pretty well.. I made that can dance like a summabitch! Check me out, from the back I could pass for a real country boy couldn't I? Pretty sure I would cry if I shot anything other than a can, though.

And then before we knew it, it was time to drive back home. 29 hours, 1,846 miles back home. I think we all could have stayed another couple days at least, but some people have jobs and some people had to get back to San Francisco to go to them. Personally, I could have stayed in that basement a while longer... Jesse's parents were very kind and hospitable to me and I thank them very much for having me. I really enjoyed my time in the upper Mid-West! Although, in a way I'm sad I missed the -20 temps, it would have been quite the new experience.. but mostly I'm happy I didn't have to deal with that craziness. The ride home was clear and largely uneventful. Jesse and I were feeling sick, so we were either stoned on Nyquil, sleeping in the back seat, or it was our turn to drive for four hours. Danie straight up refuses to get sick, so she was fit as a fiddle and probably drove an extra hour here and there. We got home at about 4pm and I went directly to sleep. I went on to sleep for what seemed like three days straight... I was out of it. Thus ends our NoDak adventure. Will any of us want to drive that much again any time soon? Absolutely not. Will we do it again ever? Maybe, just maybe...

Ch. 5a - Sin City Redux

After satiating myself with massive amounts of Del Taco (have I mentioned I am a sucker for Mexican food? They did not have Del Tacos in Jersey, I missed them. I draw the line at Taco Bell, though. OK, no I don't.. chalupas are too good to resist), I found my way to my friends' house. Dan works the overnight shift and was just waking up at 10pm. Kash was working and wouldn't be home till midnight. I, of course, was unemployed and thankful to have a place to stay! Kash and Dan (left to right) can be seen in the picture above.. they are about to eat burgers, exciting! Although, Kash looks excited but Dan looks quizzical and in some sort of pain. The burgers were good, however.

I ended up staying in Vegas for a week, in which time I played poker as much as possible at all my old haunts (The Venetian is still probably the best place to play, though the heavily perfumed air is equal parts blessing and curse.. if you win, it is the smell of success and better your clothes smell like that than cigarettes; if you lose, it's one of the most sickening smells on Earth). When I wasn't playing poker I went to a tattoo show (the world's largest.. ouchies!) with Dan and Kash, went bowling with my other Vegas-based buddies, James and David Weiner (I can never not use his last name.. he knows it's funny to say.. he knows I'll always be his little Jew), went to a buffett (used my left-over casino player points, so it only cost $2.70.. but buffets are still mostly a gross, glutinous experience), watched as much Curb Your Enthusiasm as Kash and I could watch (Kash is probably at least as Jewish as I am at this point, he loves Curb and Seinfeld so much), got $1 hot dogs and beer (that's what Vegas does best, baby!), played craps with the weatherman from the CBS Early Show (true story, but they left me on the cutting room floor), introduced Dan to the joys of Pai-Gow poker (he's a natural), and generally tired myself the hell out. It was a lot of fun and all told I won just over $700 gambling over the course of my entire road trip.. that sure helps! See, kids, gambling is a sure path to success!

Now that I am out West once again and flights are pretty cheap from SFO to LAS, I hereby promise to return to Vegas more often for more good times. City Center opens in December and I've gambled in every casino in Vegas, I owe it to myself to keep the streak alive.

Ch. 4a - Rosa's Cantina

Down in the west Texas town of El Paso... I saw two of the most beautiful people in the world. For that is where my friends Margaret and Mia live. Mia is Margaret's daughter, for anyone who doesn't know. I met them in Las Vegas, then they moved to Jersey, then I moved to Jersey, then they moved to El Paso, then, as you know, I decided to quit my job and go on a month long road trip, zig-zagging my way cross-country. It had been almost a year since I'd seen them and there was no way I wasn't gonna zig (or was it a zag?) through El Paso. Plus, I had never been in Texas (except the airports.. everyone has a layover in Houston or Dallas eventually) and it had been far too long since I had had good Mexican food! I rolled into town at dusk and we met at one of Margaret's favorite Mexican restaurants right off the bat.. she knew what I wanted. Holy god, the food was so good! Jersey and New York just do not have this kind of stuff. Oh, and it was pretty damn awesome to see Margaret and Mia, too!

There's Mia, she's seven and couldn't be more pretty, smart, funny, loving, or toothless. We had a great time watching TV, building forts with couch cushions, playing train, bowling, and playing on the playground at her school. I had sure missed her. More than just a good kid, she really is an amazing person and I am so glad that she and her mom are happy and living in a great place in El Paso.

As for El Paso, like the T-shirt said, it ain't Kansas, and that's a good thing. It's a really pretty town, I thought, yet not like I pictured it at all. It is a desert, but it has mountains that run right through it and give the neighborhoods a more interesting texture. It is a sister city to Juarez, Mexico, which you can see right across the river and the Border Highway, marked by a giant Mexican flag, a flag I'm told is the world's biggest.. who knew? By the way, if you ever go to El Paso, do not go to Juarez.. ever. It is pretty much the center of one of the largest drug cartel gang wars in Mexico, and therefore the world. It's sad, but I repeat, it is not a place to go.. ever.

There is a place you must go, however, if you ever find yourself in Texas: Whataburger! I have many friends from Texas (everybody in Vegas was from freakin' Texas it seemed) and they all talk about Whataburger as if it is the holy grail of burger joints. I have had many a fast food burger (some say too many, I say that is impossible) and I was always skeptical of the supposed greatness of Whataburger. I've had In N' Out, how much better could this place be, really? Well, by golly if those Texans don't know of what they speak.. Whataburger was purty dang delicious! Maybe I was just super hungry when I had it, but I swear the burger was at least as good as In N' Out, the fries were better than McDonald's, and even the ketchup was somehow better than typical Heinz. I was impressed and vowed to get another one before I left (a promise I kept with great enthusiasm). My only complaint about the place is how the name is pronounced; everyone in Texas says it like they are saying "water-burger," not "what-a-burger". Why is this? No one could explain.

The second big tourist stop on my visit was the El Paso Saddleblanket. All along the highway heading into El Paso were billboards insisting that I come see the Saddleblanket world headquarters, where I would find untold quantities of western... well, stuff. I didn't really know what the hell was gonna be there but I knew I wanted to go.. I like all things western; in fact, I always wanted to pretend I was a cowboy. Actually being a cowboy would probably suck, but pretending to be a cowboy could be ideal. Anyway, the Saddleblanket turned out to be a huge complex of wholesale stores selling everything from big Texas style ranch furniture to Mexican trinkets, pottery, and jewelry to actual saddle blankets and other horse tack. It was an impressive display and the prices were good, too.. I bought my T-shirt and a couple cowgirl bags for the girls and mosied on out of there.

The final highlight was a genuine Texas steak dinner at The Edge of Texas, a cool old restaurant (formerly a whorehouse, seriously) outside of town on a real working 88,000 acre ranch... Yeeee-Haw!! We had us some genuine Texas steer and, let me tell you what, it was mighty fine. Mighty, mighty fine. And the big open sky as evening fell is what Texas is all about in my city-slicking mind.. seeing that every night would be the good part about being a real cowboy.

But, of course, the best thing about El Paso is that my friends are there. They'd probably be the best part of whatever town they were in, I think. Not only was it beyond-words great to see them, but I love that I got to see with my own eyes all the places and people that they've been telling me about for years.. I can really visualize their stories now. "Hey," I can say, "I know where 'that' (whatever they're talking about) is!" I like being able to say that.

El Paso was the fourth stop on my journey.. I still had one more to make. Late September and the only thing between me and the coast was Vegas, baby... Vegas.

Ch. 2a - Kansas City Here I Come

I hit Kansas City with a one track mind. I had done my research and all signs pointed to Arthur Bryant's. Everyone seems to agree that it is the oldest, most universally loved barbecue joint in a town chock full of some of the best barbecue joints in the country. I quickly checked into my hotel (more on that later) and sped off towards the original Arthur Bryant's location, my stomach talking to me the whole way.. he couldn't contain his excitement either. As soon as I got out of my car in the parking lot, the smell in the air told me I was not going to be disappointed. A local, who must have read the hunger in my eyes, held the door open for me as I walked in. As we passed, he said, "Don't worry, I left a little for ya!" Friendly folks!

I stepped up to the counter, through the old-school, laid back dining room, and ordered my burnt end sandwich and fries from the surly, impatient-with-obviously-not-from-around-here-newbies counter man, and sat down for what at this point I had convinced myself would be the meal of my life. I had to take pictures of this experience for two reasons: 1. To document like any good tourist, 2. Because there are simply no adequate words to describe how good this seemingly simple open-faced sandwich was. Damn if it really wasn't one of the best meals I've ever had. The deep, layered flavors of quality meat; the varied tender, crispy textures of the burnt ends; the sweet and spicy vineger based sauce; the four thick slices of fresh white bread... not to mention the fries! You just have to go.

So, I ate like the king of Kansas City and rolled myself out of the restaurant, into my car, and back to my hotel... which just so happened to be the Harrah's North Kansas City Hotel and Casino. Can you guess why I chose to stay there? Hi, my name is Joel, and I have a problem.. but it's only a problem when I lose! I was so tired at this point, after nearly 11 hours on the road and full-to-popping with burnt ends, that I couldn't play too long, though.. only long enough to win another 80 bucks! Oh yeah!

I staggered to my room, slept like a rock (if rocks were made of barbecue), and awoke the next morning ready (if not a little weary) to make the straight, flat, long, long, long.. long trip across the whole of Kansas, into Colorado.

Ch. 1b - Of Pop and Popcorn

Saturday was the big day, the day I had been anticipating all week, the day that I was sure would define my stay in Ohio. Mitch and I would be conquering the Marion Popcorn Festival, "the largest popcorn festival in the world"! I love the slice of life and livestock that is a good state fair and it had been a few years since I had been to one.. I was primed! Well, Saturday arrived and I have to say.. It was sadly disappointing. Maybe it suffered from my high expectations (clearly it did), but if this is the biggest popcorn festival, I'd hate to see the smallest! There was hardly any freaking popcorn at the Popcorn Festival for crying out loud!

I mean, we took it for what is was and still had fun, but we only had about two hours of fun.. and that was stretching it. It was just a totally generic street fair that could have been in any town U.S.A. and with any theme randomly attached to it. There was nothing that made it special. Anybody remember the Grady Squash Festival from the overlooked movie classic, "Doc Hollywood"? Well, this is what I was expecting.. this is what I wanted. A genuine old-fashioned Middle-America small town festival with lots of local color. There should have been all kinds of popcorn exhibits and popcorn related products for sale, there should have been a popcorn ride, there should have been people dressed in giant popcorn costumes singing popcorn songs, etc..What we got was three downtown Marion blocks of standard deep-fried fair food, rickety fold-up rides, and barking carnies. They didn't even have deep-fried popcorn (a so-obvious-it's-brilliant idea Margaret had).. sheesh!

We did eat our way through there, nonetheless.. I got kettle corn (the most "exotic" popcorn they had), a corn dog, and a pork sandwich... and a bison burger. That's right, three different types of meat. Don't judge me. The funniest/grossest/most awesome food item we saw there, though, was the above pictured "PorkTato" Fries. Say PorkTato out loud and you will giggle. Neither of us could bring ourselves to actually eat the thing but Mitch did have some other kind of grease and fries combination bowl.. worst part is, being a future coroner of America, he knows exactly how that will look on the inside. And yet he smiles... he's a strange man.

Pop-quiz: Quick, what do you say when you want a brown carbonated beverage?

I say coke.. any regular, brown-colored cola product is coke to me, even when it is not actually Coke. Not soda, not cola, and certainly not pop. Well, people in Ohio say pop, and at the popcorn festival I ordered a "pop" for the first time and it felt weird! It was literally hard for my brain to make my mouth say it. I was doing my best to blend in, though... somehow I think I still stood out like a sore city boy.

Now it is Monday, my last day in Columbus. I am doing laundry and looking up barbecue joints in Kansas City, MO, the next stop on my trip. Jesse told me I have to get a "burnt-end" sandwich, and I can't see why I wouldn't.