Road Trippin'

Ever have a dream that you're driving to the north pole to keep the Emperor of Japan from getting assassinated and that this is all totally plausible because the north pole is in the Detroit River up around Mt. Clemens? And that you would surely succeed in your quest if you could stop getting lost and making out with the woman (Monica Potter) riding shotgun in your Honda Civic?

The best part? Even in my dreams I drive a crappy car.

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In other news, Boy enters The Workforce on Monday. Ever since he graduated in December I've been saying that we need to go on some crazy road trip together or fly out to LA or something while he's in employment limbo and has jack to do. But plans, such as they are, and planners, such as we are... well, it didn't quite happen as I might have imagined. Eventually we passed up on the extraordinary and settled on the extraordinarily do-able and made a four day excursion out to Madison for some skiing, with layovers in Chicago.

It was still a fun trip though, aside from David inflicting some thoracic trauma upon himself by slipping on some ice and landing squarely on his chest. I honestly think he may have broken a rib, which makes sense considering he once had two broken (and REbroken) ribs and didn't even know it until he had a random bone scan for his ankle (different story).

Anyway, highlights included a $12 chicken sandwich, showing Boy around Madison, the best cheeseburger of my young life, Heather's risotto/tiramisu/bread/bruschetta, skiing-ness, Beefaroo, Baraboo, The Dick Cousins, stupidly amazing parking spots, learning that my brother is a con artist (for getting us in a bar and getting us drinks after the bouncer wouldn't let us in because they'd already had last call), general road-tripping-ness, and achieving our goal of NOT slipping and busting our teeth out

Honestly, aside from DON'T DIE, the number one goal of our adventures quickly became DON'T KNOCK YOUR TEETH OUT, which I considered to be particularly apt advice for the two of us since he'd already almost landed on his face and I am about the onliest person I know who has actually busted a tooth out by breaking one's fall with one's own mouth (while sober!).

Needless to say, lowlights of the trip may have included a strange obsession with the possession and placement of our dentition. Another lowlight was Lift 4 at Devil's Head, which endeavored to, and twice succeeded in, bucking us off the lift chair. That particular lowlight goes hand-in-hand with the generally carny nature of many of the lift operators, as well as the density of litter beneath the lifts and lack of lighting on the runs once it had grown dark. And then there was Merrimac. Merrimac, and particularly its most hospitable-looking tavern, was where we went searching for food when the ski lifts were closed for grooming. It is also where we came within inches of being bum-rushed by a bunch of locals and taken out back and ground into pork sandwich fixxins... or at least we were convinced of as much by the way everyone looked at us in the Ferry Crossing Grille or some similarly named shit hole.

Anywho, many thanks to our kind hosts.

Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, Baraboo High School competes as the Baraboo Thunderbirds. Top that!

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