Ch. 3a - Once Removed

Allow me to introduce, to those of you who haven't yet met them, my two newest cousins... First, once-removed. Doolin is 4, Brendan is 7. They are my Cousin Becky's (and her husband Chris') sons and they are the closest thing I have to nephews or nieces.. I am an only child and I have but three actual first cousins. Becky, Chris, and the kids live together in a beautiful (chaotic in a good way, vibrating with love and energy) house in Lafayette, CO, a few miles outside of Boulder. I had met Brendan and Dooly a couple of times since they were born, but this is the first time I got to spend any significant time with them and I loved every second! I hope they loved it too.. I think we all had a great time. We hit
the ground running, quite literally, as soon as I knocked on the door Wednesday evening... before I knew it we were running back and forth across the backyard, pausing only for wrestling and holding upside down by the ankles. They have seemingly endless energy. I, uh, do not. They wore me plum out! Somehow I was always "it" in our tag games.. I smell foul play. I slept well, though.



All told I was in CO for 7 days, splitting my time between my Cousins' house and my Aunt Lorrie's (Becky's mom) house in Denver. We did a lot and it was great to get to know them all so much better. More Denver area stories to come, but for now let me impart the wisdom I took away from the guys: Don't ever lose sight of your inner kid. Yes, it's been said a million times, but I was face to face to face with the intoxicating spirit of youth for a week and it was good to be reminded of just how freeing and invigorating it is to allow yourself to think like a kid. I was reminded to be unselfconscious, full of joy, and completely open to the world, as my cousins are.. to love and be loved freely, with as little filter as possible. I feel like the secret of life is in there somewhere.. damn kids figured it out! They are totally unencumbered in their minds... being too self-conscious is my least favorite trait about myself; they, on the other hand, are not weighed down by all that excess neuroticism. Imagine that! Sounds good doesn't it?

Ch. 3 - Where Superman Grew Up

You know what? Kansas wasn't so bad. Sure, it was long... no single state should be that long, really. But after driving through it for a couple hours I actually started to find the landscape quite interesting and the drive went pretty quickly. Maybe it was just my frame of mind that lent the land its epic quality, but I was surely taken with it. I kept thinking about how vast and open the land still was out there, and how many Manhattans could physically fit into just one of the enormous fields I was passing right off of I-70. This is where Superman was raised.. where Dorothy and her little dog lived.. where only about 150 years ago cowboys were crossing these great plains, over 600 miles from Kansas City to Denver, on freakin' horses! Horses! It is hard for me to even imagine how much their asses hurt. This is the stuff of American legend, this is God's Country!

Now, I'm not saying I would want to stop and live there, it is the dead center middle of nowhere after all. And I think too many people who live there now take God's Country way too literally, if you know what I mean, but it sure was nice to drive through it at 85 mph. The following pictures are excerpted from my "Behind A Sonic Burger in Russell, KS" series. See what I mean.. mythic. Even Foxy the car thought so.

I arrived in Lafayette, CO just before 6pm.. I had made it to Mountain time and the third stop on my trip. I was almost immediately farted on and tackled by my Cousin Becky's two sons, age 7 and 4. More on them soon, but for now this chapter ends with an advanced literary technique they once learned me in school: Foreshadowing. Since this post is about Kansas, I thought it appropriate to show you my latest souvenir now:

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. 2 - Gateway to the West

Tuesday morning, 7am, Mitch and I said our teary (but totally macho.. cause we're men) goodbyes and I hit the road again. The plan was to make it to Kansas City, MO by days end, where gambling and barb-e-que awaited. But before I got there I would have to go through Indiana (corn fields), Illinois (more corn fields), and the rest of Missouri (St. Louis, then corn fields).

Speaking of St. Louis... That arch thingy is impressive! Seeing it on TV or from afar is cool and all, but I think I took it for granted. Up close the thing really stunned me with its brute beauty and scale. The fucker is big! I didn't even ride to the top - just stood next to it, touched it, walked through it, looked up, and pondered. It was a significant moment.. I was now officially in the west.. kinda. I had gone through the Gateway at least. Symbolism doesn't get much more obvious!

After getting philosophical for a minute, I came to and had visions of barbecue sandwiches dancing in my head.. I had best be getting on down the road. I paid my $6 Arch parking fee (a warning for you future wanderers) and headed across the mighty Mississippi River.

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.

Burying The Lead

Before I go any farther down the road, let me pause for a second and tell you where exactly it is that I am going. Duh. I am going to San Francisco. I will not have flowers in my hair, but I will have good friends there! Maybe you remember these guys, Danie and Jesse, my best good friends I met in Las Vegas:

There I am with Danie when she came to visit in NY. There are Danie and Jesse together at the ch. 8 Christmas party circa 2007. Which reminds me of maybe the saddest part of leaving NY... it all began the year before, at the 2006 party, when I won the only thing I've ever won in my life (like thing, not money from poker).

I remember it like yesterday. The moment had come - at the end of a long night of waiting in the buffet line repeatedly for tortellini and prime rib, finagling for more and more all-important free drink tickets, and watching other people win other prizes - for the grand prize drawing. The suspense in the ballroom was thick, everyone at the station had been talking with lustful desire in their eyes for weeks about the grand prize and everyone wanted to hear their name called at this moment. But it was not to be for anyone else, for out of the hat they pulled... my name, I - me, lowly video editor - had won! It was shocking. The grand prize was a beautiful 32" LCD HDTV... totally FREE! It was a victory for me and for all the production staff, so tired of seeing all the good prizes won by the anchors, producers, or advertising people.. I am sure I would have been carried out on their shoulders if they weren't also so bitterly jealous. If I could have shared my prize with everyone at that party I would have, but in the end there was but one TV and, well, someone had to take it home.

Well, that's how I remember it anyway. The TV really was beautiful too, and did I mention FREE! We had a good run together, but alas, I had to leave behind my beloved in Jersey.. a fate I would not wish on my worst enemy. She just wouldn't fit in the car.. I tried and tried but there was just no way. Very sad.

Anyway, that's all in the past now and I have to do my best to move on. Where was I? Right.. Danie and Jesse moved to San Francisco only a few months after I moved to New York. They love it there and I don't see why I won't too.. especially with their friendly faces there to greet me. I mean come on, it's San Francisco! Golden bridges, fisherman's wharfs, fog, hills, cable cars, that pyramid building, the Pacific Ocean, the 49ers! I am sure I will love it. They tell me we will eat really well, too. So, I have that going for me. All I need to do now is find a place to live and a job to support myself... details. I'm sure it'll all work out. Now here's a pretty picture of my new home (as of Oct. 1, 2009) to distract you from asking me too many questions about the details.

Ch. 1a - Working The Land

Now I have arrived in Columbus and for the last few days I have just been takin' her easy mostly. Unwinding and decompressing from all that pent up Jersey rage. On Labor Day, Mitch (who is my friend who lives here - he cuts up dead people for a living and just passed his final medical licensing test, woo!) and I went apple pickin'. The orchard was in Palookaville, or at least you couldn't prove otherwise to this city boy. I mostly ate, Mitch mostly picked, and together we stole one Pink Lady apple that was not supposed to be picked yet. Yep, we are bad dudes.

Then we stopped by the farmers' market on the way out, which was again quite the novelty to me. I pointed and took pictures of the natives and their quaint traditional ways. Mitch was *ahem* excited by the butternut squash. Excuse me while I whip this out!

The reddish apples were sweet, the greenish ones were perfect for pie.. So that is what we decided must be done. The next day, while Mitch was at work, I was a good wife and made a genuine from-scratch, homemade apple pie. I was particularly proud of the crust... deeelicious. Check it out:

Otherwise I am just hanging out, exploring the city, chillin' like a villain. This weekend is the famous Marion Popcorn Festival.. I am told corn is the thing to eat here (I assume in all its forms) and I am looking forward to it. Popcornfestival.com