SCOUT AND NAVIGATOR

Romeo's Big Adventure

2009-01-21T17:10:00.003-06:00

Oh, holy crap are we glad to have our little boy home!! Missing for three days, ended up in Burnsville - 40 miles away. He's napping now ... posting this for folks not on Facebook (ha)

Two Things I Found in my Garden Today

2008-08-10T22:59:00.004-05:00

This is a Golden (or Yellow) Garden Spider. I've never seen such a thing in Minnesota. She looks like some crazy tropical arachnid, not something you'd see setting up house in the land of bland food and cornfields. The coolest thing about this spider is the zig-zag web pattern to the left. It's called a stabilimentum and it has deep purpose, as you might expect from Mommy Nature. Go read about it.

This is my very own Golden Girl. She's moving to NYC a week from tomorrow and will be living in a cute (albeit tiny) apartment with two other friends in Brooklyn. Her roommate found a baby cockroach on the kitchen counter today. I'm wondering if we shouldn't just pack that other golden girl in her suitcase to do battle with the cockroaches. She looks like she could handle them.

Good luck Hannah! We love you!

Fun With Wind and Rain

2008-07-22T15:05:00.003-05:00

80 year-old spruce hits the garage roof. Fun with chain saw begins. The top of it would have made an excellent Christmas tree. No damage.

Wendy in Rotterdam

2008-07-21T23:05:00.001-05:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvGT0T-7h7Q

You might have to Copy/Paste this because I'm terrible at making it easier ....

The Collision

2008-07-21T22:41:00.002-05:00

Well, after colliding with Bob, the motorcycle is in need of repair. When a dirt bike hits a 1987 T-Bird square in the license plate at 35 MPH, there will be damage. Bob was spared ... he flew up about ten feet in the air above my car like a rag doll and landed in the weeds. He walked away (I think his testicles hurt a little bit later the next day). We survived, I felt terrible, he felt badly ... my license plate will be difficult to reconnect. But, who cares? Bob is alive and we get to gamble with time for another month or so ...

I'm so glad that I didn't kill my best-man. I'm so glad that Bob is made out of Nerf.

Whoooooooo!!!!! No hurt, no real pain, no doctors involved ...

More details would be better for this story, of course, but ... let's just chalk this up to a "We're lucky" kind of story and leave it at that, huh?

Transition

2008-05-31T19:12:00.009-05:00

Here's Hannah the Yogi demonstrating a "College to Real World Transition Position". Yes, I know, it looks sorta lonely and sad here, but it's the space in between one place and another. She's graduated! That's cause for celebration and we did our best to pull some of that off at the Tornado Lounge the night of May 17th, but not before surviving the commencement ceremony (Q:is there anyone in the world who can pull off an inspirational commencement speech?), cramming down lunch at Hawk's on State Street and then all seven of us moving her out of the Mifflin Street studio apartment in three hours.

But look...she's earned a bona fide bachelor's degree, something neither her dad nor I can brag about for ourselves. Instead, we just get to be proud of her! The work she's produced over the last four years @ UW Madison is impressive, to say the least.

Meanwhile, motherhood is all about storage spaces, from the womb to the basement, where Hannah's possessions are piled in boxes and bags for, uh...awhile. She'll complete an internship @ Knock, Inc. in Minneapolis over the summer. In the fall, she moves to NYC and I have a hunch she's going to give the world of advertising a kick in the pants.

CONGRATULATIONS HANNAH! We love you and are already blissfully blinded by your bright future!

How Spring Cleaning Begins

2008-05-12T12:21:00.006-05:00

It's been raining a lot. The grass is long and dandelions are populating the yard. The hosta, tulips, herbs and perennials are pushing up and out through the yet un-raked blankets of mulch in the garden. Jack has at least two entire coats of fur on his dogbody. Expectation is in the air!

The corners are filled with dust, animal hair and cobwebs, there are stacks of mail, New Yorkers, newspapers and books, cords and empty boxes, forgotten CDRs with no titles, vacuum cleaner parts, tools, boots, crust and stains on tables, abandoned art projects.
I can tell something big is about to happen!!

In Response to Hannah's Challenge

2008-04-27T11:42:00.002-05:00

First of all, I have to say, Hannah, that you got the "nursing with Daddy" story wrong. I was on a session or out for groceries (or out getting hammered with friends) and you started crying and would not stop. Nonplussed and unable to console you, your father, out of desperation, lifted his shirt and did what any creative, well-meaning father might try when he was fresh out of options. I basically walked in on the event, breasts bursting with milk. I was like..."What's going on here?" So, it was not in a car and no one else was present... do you really think your father would pull a stunt like that with an audience? But he's not afraid to tell the truth either. He was a little bit defensive when I screwed up my face at him and started laughing uncontrollably.

OK. Onto the Random Six Challenge

1. If I run out of cigarettes, I've been known to dig through ash trays at home for long butts. I know... this is sad and wrong.

2. I eat weird combinations of food, especially for breakfast, like... recently I had some leftover ring sausage & kraut, an egg (over easy) all covered with rooster sauce with a brownie and grapefruit juice, and not necessarily in that order. Oh, I think there was an Emergen-C and a few bites of hummos on a carrot in there somewhere.

3. When I was a kid, I used to give myself injections. Um-hmm. I had acquired syringes and needles from the doctor's office where my aunt worked, which she simply gave me, along with scalpels, tongue depressors, a stethoscope and myriad other implements, since I wanted to be a surgeon when I grew up. In my basement laboratory, I filled a boiled syringe with distilled water, held it upright and plunged until some water squirted out the needle after tapping to loosen bubbles and would then jam it into my leg. Why, you ask?

Multiple choice answers:
a) my friends wouldn't let me do it to them
b) i was sick of pretending on my surgically mangled and dismembered dolls
c) i liked how it felt
d) it was the 60's version of "cutting"
e) all of the above

4. At a certain young age, I chose to not cry. I willed myself against it. I didn't want "them" to win, whomever "they" were but "they" were always watching. As an adult, I cry a lot in the car listening to music... and sometimes, singing a cappella. Somewhere "they" are now winning.

5. I had always wanted a dog as a kid and my parents were unrelenting in their resistance. It was the only item I would put on my Christmas list every year, like this:
1) puppy
2) puppy
3) puppy ... and so on to the end of the page.

So, instead, I had a string. I dragged this string around everywhere. It had all kinds of animals on the end of it starting with puppies and ending with lions. I tied it to my bed at night. Its name, no matter which animal was attached, was Ralph. Eventually, I was allowed to keep a tiny turtle I found at our lake cabin. I named him Ralph Chaney Lewis. He died on my birthday. My older brother felt so sad about it, he bought me a turtle that same day but its shell had been painted blue (they did that back then) and I think they breathe through their shells. He died the same week. I gave up on turtles.

6. Recently my friend Rita turned me onto the online game "Snood" when I spent a weekend at her house. I thought it was a sort of way-too-easy game but then I couldn't stop playing it. I have wasted entire days playing this game and if I'm on long phone calls, I play it in order to concentrate on the conversation. These are the confessions of a hopeless multi-tasker.

The Satiated Singer

2008-04-26T15:34:00.005-05:00

Here I am having a moment with the Neumann microphone that willfully endured my wine and whiskey breath for ten days with incredible love and forgiveness. All credit given to the U67.

The Lonely Engineer

2008-04-26T13:56:00.006-05:00

After ten long, brilliant days and nights spent in Pachyderm Studio, what remains on the last night is one lonely engineer who's wife did her best but finally collapsed on the control room sofa while he pulled rough mixes until the sun rose to send to the UK the following day for mixing by Tchad Blake. The recording with TBP + me is finished and relegated to the annuls of music history as of April 22, 2008.

Some of you who were with me in March in NYC may recognize the only entity who saw Brent through to the end. I call her the Goddess of Music and Patience.

Spring Break

2008-03-30T10:03:00.019-05:00

There are so many things to love about New York City, like this amazing men's store window display in Brooklyn.

All over the city are "cut by number" barber shops.

The graffiti is as plentiful as sunglasses choices.

I had to go to the city for final rehearsals with The Bad Plus before we record at Pachyderm in April. Kitty was on spring break, so I asked her to come along and we stayed six days since we were gifted free digs in the East Village from friends. We had a blast! Traveling with Kitty is always fun, easy and full of adventure. Here she is having a chance encounter with Will Farrell.

We both got to see friends, hear music, eat great food, go to MOMA and walk and walk and walk and walk.

There's so much more to tell, but I'm not tellin...

We'll be back there soon enough, since Hannah will be moving there in the fall. Can't wait to catch a subway to Queens.

Playing Catch-up.. again

2007-11-04T22:48:00.000-06:00

We've been gone again for many months. Sorry. Or maybe I shouldn't apologize because it's not like any of you are waiting on the edge of your seat for another S&N post. In any case, here are our latest adventures.

Brent and I took our second tour in the U.P (the upper peninsula of Michigan). I had brought him up here a couple weeks ago, knowing he would fall in love with it after having been here with Kitty in August. The first thing we did, after scarfing down a couple pasties (a meat and potato pie the Cornish immigrants brought to this area many years ago) at Joe's Pasty shop, was to browse through Dan's Antiques. I'd spied a 1950's kitchen table when Kitty and I were here and was hoping no one had purchased it since. It was there and I gleefully bought it promising the proprietors we'd come back to get it as soon as possible. It was time to retrieve it and Miss Vickie generously loaned us her van. The next time any of you commune on our porch, you'll appreciate leaning on this table. It's a beauty... AND... it was cheap! My favorite combination.

Anyway, we found a cute little place upon arriving in Ironwood tonight called Quinn's Motel, for $32.80 (including tax) in the city of Ironwood. The proprietor, Leila, was all too happy to make sure we were happy. She wants our business the next time we come up. "Come up"—that's what it's called 'round heah when you arrive. We had dinner at Don & GG's—killer ribs and NY strip specials (we got one of each) and moved on to a bar called Spider's in Hurley WI,bordering Ironwood MI to the southwest.

We played pool, which I pulled off in a predictably mediocre fashion while Brent, as usual, kicked my ass and held forth at the jukebox as well lining up songs like The Wait, Back in Black and Won't Get Fooled Again. Then we returned to our stinky little motel room and were thrilled to stumble across Wilco on Austin City Limits—I mean, we came in on the first song—and got to hear the entire new recording Sky Blue Sky on stage. If you don't have it, go get it right now. You won't be disappointed. And, this godforsaken little hovel of a motel had Wi-Fi. I mean... c'mon... is this our home away from home or what? The only issue is that they get the largest snowfalls of any city in America. It's all that wind effects shit off the lake. So, getting there might be easy in the winter, but getting home might be impossible. Who needs to go home if you don't have to work on Monday especially when the room is less than what gas costs to drive up there? I ponder if I could live in a trailer and work at the pasty shop for the rest of my life. We are all about being downwardly mobile—we're half way there already.

Back to Cannon Falls and hum drum life as we know it, but then, brilliantly...

"
...Brent endeavors to take up the role of Sushi Chef. Classy! I'll be encouraging this obsession for years to come.

Finally, a shout out to Max Reed, Guy's dad, who flew into the clouds after 84 years navigating the planet in his own unique and clever way. The send-off was great—I have to say—plenty of stories, great photographs to peruse, the full regalia at Fort Snelling (color guard, taps,a six-gun salute) ending with a comfy gathering at his niece's Tootie's house. These events are always a confusing mix of sadness and joy but I think we all agreed that he lived and died well. I would hope that those I leave behind one day will say the same for me.

Max had repeatedly asked to be buried in a pine box. Those are difficult to procure these days, but his family managed to make it happen.

We'll miss you, Max. Rest well.... or go get into some good trouble wherever it is we go after all this earthtime.

Been A Long Time Gone (or What a Weird Summer)

2007-08-27T19:32:00.000-05:00

Hey everyone. Hey. Hi. We've been... uh... surviving the summer of 2007.

Somehow we made it. Moving has been a central theme; Hannah moving home from her time abroad, Kitty moving into the slumlord apartment and quickly out to grandma's basement, Hannah moving from Cannon Falls to Angie & Harry's house in Minneapolis, who, by the way, will be celebrating their nuptials on October 6th. More recently, Brent and I moved Hannah in two separate trips back to Madison where she now resides in a cute little efficiency for her senior year at UW (pix are forthcoming). This weekend we'll move Kitty into her apartment near the UofM campus but not before she and I took a three day excursion to the U.P. In the midst of all this activity, Buggy, Vickie and the Fales kids moved into our house where they will reside for the next year or so until their new house is built over the winter on a lovely double lot they bought for a good price on auction in the city of Cannon Falls. House of Fales was accomplished mid-July after renovations were completed on the top floor creating a living room & family bedroom. Buggy & Vickie most often sleep on the third floor in Hannah's old room where their luxurious, unbendable bed, not making the final corner, was deposited. If we have company, they are ousted to the top of the house and are damn gracious about it, I must say. Things are going well in this communal living experiment. We've all been running here, there and everywhere since, rarely in the house at the same time for the last month and a half. We hope they still love us in the dead of winter when the house gets smaller and the cold weather keeps us locked inside staring at each other. We anticipate long conversations into the night after the kids go to bed at the dining room table. We're planning to change the world -- or at least our part of it. We'll let you know how it all plays out.

On a darker note, we had to put Rocky down on August 11th after a year of random, aggressive incidents he was responsible for with other animals. The culminating event occurred on August 10th when Rocky went after our neighbor's one year old puppy in the morning on a walk. Fortunately, PJ was not injured, even though he was plenty shook up. The next 24 hours were brutal for Brent and I, but we loved him up the best we could, cried our faces off and are now left to struggle with our roles as judge, jury and executioner. We're finding peace with it all. Mostly, we are glad that after 13 long, lovely years, he went off to that mysterious prairie in the universal mist where there is no pain, squirrels and rabbits run slower and no one ever says, "Go lie down". He was a good, good dog -- a peacemaker and gentleman. We will miss him forever.

So, a summer which brought drought, a major interstate bridge collapse followed by torrential rains and disastrous floods to Minnesota, is almost over. We've had more than our fair share of trouble since spring. But, here we are, rolling with the punches like true Midwesterners. I'm ready for fall. It can't come soon enough.

WELCOME Baby Rowan Vann Andre!

2007-07-07T12:56:00.000-05:00

Woo-Hoo! Lynn (McMahon) and Scott (Andre) delivered their adorable little dude onto the planet at 11PM, July 2, 2007. We got to see him the next day. He's a tiny guy -- 6 lbs, 7oz -- but he has a set of lungs on him and he's doing a good job teaching Scott how to cry.
Everyone is happy, healthy and hungry.

Congratulations!!! Big love to all of you!

Tangentially, we've really been having trouble with that naming thing ourselves! We changed kitty's name back to Irene after going through myriad other possibilities since changing it to Emmy Lew. Plus, she's turned into a terrorist since we got her spayed and this marked personality change makes me even less able to name her. Of course, she doesn't care what her name is -- she's going to do what she wants anyway. That's what happens to all babies eventually.

OK... we changed her name to Emmy Lew

2007-06-21T01:32:00.001-05:00

It's all good. Irene just wasn't rolling off the tongue. Here, she helped make the McAndre baby pillow. Do you all know that Lynn & Scott are due in July? Well... now you do. We can't wait to meet the little man. And yes... it's a dude.

Paradoxically, Emmy is in a vetrinary cage tonight slated for spaying in the AM. We're doing our duty -- but hope she will emerge, both unreproducable and without too much resulting trauma. Brent said that when he put her in the car and started down the driveway to the vet, she freaked with vertigo briefly and then, made the cool kitty choice, collapsing in his lap for the rest of the ride. She rocks, of course.

So... say goodbye to Emmy Lew's uterus. Can we have a moment with that? OK. It's over.

Meanwhile, B-Rent, Buggy, John Duncan and GR Anderson are on the river --- as the thunder rolls and the rain falls. This storm was supposed to blow over. All we can do now is imagine their Man Camp plight. I've been drinking coffee and making lists while they get wet -- a bad combo for sleep. Still, I'm off to bed hoping The Sandman will tip me over. I have to work tomorrow.

Hope everyone is dreaming.

BABY ANNOUNCEMENT! WELCOME IRENE ...

2007-06-03T22:29:00.001-05:00

It was a Friday night around 11PM and we heard meowing on our front stoop. Bob & Vickie and the kids were over. And there she was looking for a home. Possibly dropped off by somebody or she was dropped from the sky from points unknown, she was hungry and affectionate and not afraid of the dogs too much (we kept them inside the screen door). She flipped over and let us pet her and wrangle her around and touch her paws and all that good stuff.

So, the next day, we eventually decided to keep her because she was just too darn cute and too personable to say no. Hannah, who's allergic to kitties, approved as well. So, then we went through all sorts of name options - Karen, Iris, Fran, Astrid, June - and eventually wound up with Irene. She's a good Kitty so far. Wendy and Hannah got her some kitty food and some cat litter. We're keeping her in our basement room to help assimilate with the hounds. So far, we've had them all close to her and we're trying to spread her scent around the house (you know, rubbing her on the walls and stuff like that). Romeo and Irene had a nose to nose moment, with Romeo on the choke chain. He was scared. There was a little barking, but the choke collar took care of that. I think they'll learn to hang pretty quick. We're thinking it might take a week or so, but the set-up is pretty good. So, now we have three boy dogs and one little girl kitty who likes to be wrangled with. We'll keep you posted. Welcome Irene!

Camo-Romeo

2007-05-22T11:33:00.003-05:00

CSI (Crime Scene Investigators): Cannon River

2007-05-13T22:40:00.000-05:00

Fishing season opener on the Cannon River. How do you do it? Well, first off, you have to have about 18 guys, 9 coolers full of beer, an assortment of meat, a generator, P.A. system, lights to illuminate the bean-bag toss games, floatation devices, bait, sunflower seeds, grill, turkey frier for deep-fried shrimp/potatoes/cheese curds/walleye/onions, tents, 2 chainsaws, iPods, first-aid kits, and gasoline.

Rightly so, we determined that our fleet was more like an armada. A canoe barge was constructed by lashing together 3 canoes with the middle one being solely a cargo ship. Then, we embark. Some choose to fish. Stops are made along the way. Other weekend pleasure-crafters pass us by with questionable looks as Creedence Clearwater Revival blares out over the peacefulness of the river. Some fish are caught, but mostly there's a lot of lounging in camp-chairs and passing of various bottles. It doesn't look good in print so much, but it's actually a pretty good time. The weather was beautiful (very rare for fishing opener weekend).

I'll leave it with the shelter that Boyce and I made when we found out that our tent poles and stakes were missing. After going through the trouble of erecting this lean-to, a fellow camper said, "Oh, I have an extra tent if you want to use it ...", so we did that, but the lean-to did protect our snacks and the tent that didn't work.

All in all, a good time was had by all and we were out of there by 9AM to get cleaned up for Mothers' Day. Fairly uneventful, successful, and predictable, except for the fact that Buggy pondered going digital sometime during the afternoon(!). Let's wish him luck with that! Here he is preparing some "Dinner Surprise"!

P.S. Apologies to anyone who was kept awake by Boyce and myself demonstrating the art of fat dudes pretending to be AWA wrestlers in front of the bonfire. I think Boyce (aka The Bowler) hurt my shoulder in a figure-four smack-down. It's all part of the game, though. "And that is all the people need to know!".

But....What Does It Mean?

2007-03-30T18:54:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, there is, honestly, nothing like old-school Chinese take-out. Cannon Falls boasts China City, a restaurant owned and operated by a family from China. The food kicks ass and every family member I've met is beyond charming and will bend over backwards to serve a customer well. Once, one of the daughters told me that fortune cookies were not invented by the Chinese. Naturally, I was taken aback.

Upon further research, I discovered that they were actually invented in the early 1900's right here in the USA. Two Chinese American's battled over the orgination of the idea; Makoto Hagiwara of Golden Gate Park's Japanese Tea Garden claimed ownership in San Francisco in 1909 and David Jung, founder of the Hong Kong Noodle Company in Los Angeles, did the same in 1918. In 1983, a San Francisco court ruled in favor of Jung but because the court was criticized for bias, the last word has not been spoken on the controversy. Speaking of words, the Chinese have real no term for "fortune cookie" but it has been attempted thusly: 幸运签饼, 签语饼, 幸运饼, 幸运签语饼, 幸运甜饼, 幸福饼干, 幸运饼干, 幸运饼, 幸运籤语饼, 籤语饼, or 占卜饼.

Now that we know the fortune cookie was created with American consumer appeal in mind, we can no longer truly marvel at the mystery of the message inside ... as if it might hold some ancient Taoist metaphor ... a deeper, more exotic meaning than we westerners can possibly fathom. Sorry to bust your cookie. Given that, what I want to know is... what wasted rapscallion from some random, west Texas bar was paid a shot of Jack Daniels with a lite beer chaser to come up with this one??? My fortune on Thursday night....

Signs of Spring

2007-03-13T14:28:00.000-05:00

MUD

BIRDS

BASEBALL

Sausage & Bacon

2007-03-11T23:31:00.000-05:00

The last couple weekends have been "all about meat", more or less. Last weekend, Brent and I took the backroads, the only roads, to Buggy & Miss Vickie's in order to witness how does or bucks reach their culinary nirvana. Buggy had done his manly country duty in the fall -- taken down his deer -- and he and his hunting compadres finally gathered in the garage for the sausage stuffing extravaganza. 260# of meat ground in this turn of the century contraption......emerging as potato/venison sausage or jalapeno & cheese/venison sausage, to name two. I can't deny there is something very phallic and contraceptive about the process of stuffing sausage, jokes abounding, and if I can figure out how to get videos onto the blog, you can see and hear for yourself. Until then, I won't say more. And here, the venison stix, as proffered by the smoker. Meat is classically difficult to photograph but just imagine it in your mouth... or.... something like that. Really really tasty. Buggy, if I've recounted any of this in error, please feel free to correct me in the comments. Now, on to the topic of bacon.

Meanwhile, on St. Clair and Cleveland, my great uncle Eddie's early 1920's Bacon banjo was being brought back to life after years in storage. I had dragged it's bedraggledness on stage for a Neil Young cover with Redstart (For the Turnstiles) a few times over the last year or two but it was in need of some serious professional love. The banjo doctor at Willie's declared it a true gem -- in great shape -- all serial numbers and even the original factory stickers in tact (which increases the value even more) sporting a special order and rare resonator. He replaced the head, made adjustments and put on new strings. I've spent the evening reading up on and practicing banjo finger picking patterns. I'm pretty sure this is my new love affair, secret hillbillie that I am. The fact that it has four strings instead of six together with awesome bluegrass open tunings makes it my kind of deal. She's a beauty, as "they say".

Romeo in Repose

2007-03-04T17:46:00.000-06:00

.... how can this possibly be comfortable....?

Blizzards, Bereavement & Birthdays

2007-03-02T12:54:00.000-06:00

The winter of 2007 has been shy on snow and big on sub-zero temperatures but in the last week and a half, we finally got dumped on - twice. This guy appears to have been a casualty. I guess possums are so unappetizing even the dogs won't have them. Poor, poor possum.
Here's Kitty & All Her Parents chowing down sushi at Origami -- her official birthday celebration on Wednesday night. Awesome. The second round of snow started on our drive home but it wasn't so bad.
Finally, Rocky cooling his creaky old knees in the snow. He sits out there for hours....

KITTY DAY!!!

2007-02-26T15:04:00.000-06:00

SEE?
You really haven't changed all that much in nineteen years!

HAPPY
BIRTH
DAY
BABY!

XO

Hannah?

2007-02-24T03:46:00.000-06:00

Thinking of you (well, we all are ...) Me and my people ... waiting for you to get back from GAY PARIS.

Midnight Obsessions

2007-02-22T12:07:00.000-06:00

Brent has been following the Scooter Libby trial with great interest and the kind of focus only the B-Rent can pull off for weeks. There are a team of political bloggers who have been in the courtroom typing live transcripts on the internet as it happens for the duration of the trial and then posting a video commentary at the end of each day, which we've been watching nightly. It's been fascinating... sorta like watching the World Series. The jury is in diliberation now.

Caught in the act of going politico....

Mommy's Girls

2007-02-20T17:54:00.000-06:00

I don't think I prattle on too often about my children -- you can correct me if I'm wrong and I'll sort of apologize. Mostly, I'm just inspired by what they are busy with and support them as they make their way in the world, the same as I would with any of my friends.

That being said, just thought I'd share a little of their recent work here, beginning with the oldest first.

Hannah is in London attending Central St. Martin's College of Art & Design, as most of you know by now, and if you don't, please peruse her blog, listed in the links on the right. One of the things she has done while attending to course work there is to take an elective (extra-curricular) in fashion design, which has been her passion since she was about 2 years old. When she was a senior in high school, I remember a conversation we had about her future, in which she stated that all she wanted to do was get a degree in fashion design but being the practical girl that she is, said at the time, "It would be like growing up to be a princess". Nonetheless, it is a passion of hers and she's damn good at it, as exhibited here. That's some serious haute couture. Good work, darling. If it keeps your ivy room in London humming, just keep staying up all night. Obsession is the better part of valor.... to rework a phrase.

Next, we have Kitty, who has been whining about her lastest assignment in drawing class. The prof gave them an ink pen and asked that they do a piece that uses ALL the ink in the pen. She procrastinated a bit, which always puts the pressure on and can call up internal protest, but I do have to agree that it's a dubious assignment.... a little too attached to our over-expensing "culture". She was not in the best of moods last night at the Sparklehorse/Jesse Skypes show at First Avenue as a result. But, today, she sends me this..... .... and all I can think is that if this is what comes of bleeding all the ink from a pen, then bring more of these assignments! She says she's getting rid of the rest of the ink on bigger bird on another piece of paper that will accompany this drawing, but I like Daddy Brent's suggestion as well... "you grab another piece of paper and scribble on it until the ink runs out... you know... cheat!" I'd have to agree. An artist knows when a piece is DONE. Expensing ink for the sake of it does not a good piece of art make.

Girls... you are busy. That makes Mommy grin. Keep me grinning, okay?

It's Been a Hard Day's Night

2007-02-13T08:31:00.000-06:00

Here's a portrait of me after working an overnight Target in-store film shoot.

No, wait... here's another one.... In either case, I've been up for roughly 24 hours and I'm SO not tired. During some down time on the shoot, I was making conversation with the director about how strange it would be to work the night shift all the time.

I said, "I mean, when you get off work at 7AM you're thinking pot roast and cocktails... right?.... so while your kid eats Cheerios, you're having dinner and a Manhattan."

He said, "Well.... that's what I do when I have one of these shoots. It helps me get to sleep." Ah-ha!

I took his remedy seriously. I got home, heated up Brent's leftover's from that Mexican restaurant in Northfield where he dined last night and am now sipping a Jameson at 8:30 AM. I fed the dogs and let them out for their morning constitutional. As I write this, Brent is, no doubt, the Master of Ceremonies in his eternal Circus of Dreams above me. At some point soon, sleep will take me down for the day.

Meanwhile thanks to all of you, to whom I sent that outraged, overwhelmed, stumbling rant and supporting links regarding the profound and endless inhumanity of mankind, for your thoughtful responses. There are days when I just can't handle the profound depravity of the world we live in. A couple days prior to having said meltdown, I had taken this photograph. I think it may have been my prescient anti-war statement for the month. Working title: Peace

All in a Saturday

2007-02-11T11:54:00.000-06:00

First, it's about getting up late, not showering, throwing on yesterday's clothes, covering bedhead with hats and dragging to the car in 6 below zero temperatures for breakfast at The Cannon Ball. Then it's about deciding what kind of greasy breakfast food will slide down easily.

The customary locals were gathered around the counter. One of the men was complaining about the slow service, insisting that this kind of service is acceptable in the south but not in Minnesota. When the waitress brought him his meal, she leaned forward and said, "It took 11 minutes..." He harumphed. While they debated the finer points of service, I wandered over to the pie case. Romance has abandoned the pie case at The Cannon Ball and been replaced with convenience (pre-cut slices) and sanitation (lots of plastic wrap). Still, it has a certain charm.

After breakfast, we wandered over to the Countryside Antique Mall to procure a gift for one Master Chad Nelson. We would be celebrating his 35th birthday at Moscow on the Hill that evening. Vodka was plentiful. The food was... well... "for the people", as expected, and the party lively. The birthday boy is the one to the left in the vintage "safety goggles". Happy Birthday Chad! We love you!

1967 Plymouth Fury III

2007-02-07T00:50:00.000-06:00

Who had the coolest car in High School? Me? Yeah, maybe ... but Buggy's was pretty cool, too (1966 Plymouth Belvedere Station Wagon "THE COW") Both sported the Heroic Mopar 318 C.I. motor. And as we found out through trial and error (mostly trial), they both could achieve - side by side - an average speed of about 115 mph.

This is how Buggy's car would have appeared had it been Black instead of all white (Rev. Boyce would refer to it as "the AntiCow" ... maybe he'll tell the story in the comments?):

OUR HOME: WINTER 1940s

2007-02-06T17:34:00.000-06:00

The doctor who lived in our house with his family from 1941 to 1952, Dr. Karl Phuetze, loved to take photographs. Some of you have heard the story of how his daughter Mary visited us this past Summer and how awesome it was. Anyway, as Wendy and I sit alone in this cozy house after a fresh snowfall, I thought I'd post a couple photos from Mary. This next one is looking from our porch to the end of our driveway. Amazing how the landscape changes!

VICTORY DINNER: WHITE LIGHT RIOT

2007-02-06T16:06:00.000-06:00

Dinner was awesome. Had a big ol' beef roast, potatoes, black beans, and horseradishy coleslaw. Watched "Idiocracy". Then, we finally all decided to head into the below zero coldness (Mark had been taunting us with ideas of sledding). So, we prepared. Wendy took the photos. Here's Mike and Dan suited up and obviously ready (even if they're not sure at the moment):

Anyway, the sledding became more interesting after I fired up the Allis-Chalmers. In the end, it didn't last very long (too cold), but Mark got his sledding in and everyone else got a good chuckle. And there we went:

Next morning (afternoon) ... Mark and Joe get to work:

Just another Scout & Navigator success story.

Up Late

2007-01-18T03:06:00.000-06:00

Wow. It's 3:06 AM and I show no signs of fading. It all started with Guy Reed's email and link to this article about my most dependable creative hero who, at 80 years of age, is about to publish what he says will be his last book of poetry which makes me weak. Go here to read about Jack Gilbert. It inspired me.... and maybe, you too.

I've been musing about things and things, drinking Jameson & ginger (ale) and resisting sleep because I just don't want this night to end. It's a painful, blistering, blissful night. The candles on the dining room table have burned out and I wrote lyrics to some music I've been working on and the whole song just took on a life of its own. I don't know if I'll be wrestling with it in the coming days or weeks, but it has asserted itself tonight.

Brent went to bed early, possibly coming down with another cold or flu in his weakened state from the last cold or flu he contracted. I can hear him coughing upstairs. I should probably take some vitamin C and go to bed too.

It's A New Year

2007-01-12T12:53:00.000-06:00

Ah, the ceremonious holiday table summoning hungry hearts, brains and bodies. Each participant brings with them the compilation of days creating the year they've lived to this table along with a bottle of wine or two and some food to flesh out the menu. We come elated, deflated, disappointed, inspired, lost and most often, found. Each holiday gathering cooks up its own swirling cosmic soup, and this one was no exception. We celebrate all of it; the darkness and light that comprises each real life being lived. The beauty is, we are all in this crazy world together and every year I stand at the head of the holiday table, I am overwhelmed with profound gratefulness for my family and friends.

On our dinner plates was beef tenderloin with a red wine/shallot reduction and bleu cheese crumbles, a salad of greens and baked yam with a balsamic/mustard vinaigrette, gingered carrots, mashers, gravy, cranberry orange puree, and crusty bread. For dessert, there was pumpkin and apple pie and a superb gingerbread.

Christmas morning looked something like this....

The Holiday Portrait of the Year was Brent modeling his new bathrobe. Fetching!

A close runner up was Hannah busting elf moves.

Immediately following the seemingly endless days of myriad celebrations here, there and everywhere, we sent Hannah off to London, where she'll be attending Central St. Martin's College of Art and Design until mid-April. That was a feat of epic proportions which I never want to revisit. Try persuading a 20 year old fashion queen moving to London to pack light!

But, she made it safely and from what we hear so far, all is well. I'll post fotos if she sends some. Franz has been in London with Hannah for two weeks but will leave tomorrow for a job he landed with an NGO in New Dehli. He'll be gone for a full year. We'll miss him but are as excited for him as we are for Hannah waving goodbye as they head out into the world seeking adventure. And like Rita and I have always said, "Just remember who you are and who your people are!"

New Year's Eve was spent as we did last year but with a different crew. Buggy and Miss Vickie were our guests at The Nicollet Island Inn and we were joined by Mark Dalton, his friend Jen, nephew Mike, later GR Anderson and Princess Sweetheart, and the built-in host of cretins, mutants, beautiful urbanites and delicious neighborhood derelicts of Nye's Polonaise Room. This year we spent more time in the polka bar .......but ended up at the piano bar where Mark and Brent sang (hollered?) Billy Joel's "Piano Man" and GR sang a heartbreaking rendition of "Rhinestone Cowboy". Princess Sweetheart was stunning in her faux jungle coat, which she had fashioned with her own, lovely hands. Wish I had a picture. Instead, I give you this....

Since then, we are all in blissful recovery mode.
HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!

The Spirit of Giving

2006-12-13T14:35:00.000-06:00

Ahhh.... I never get tired of that long view. But the landscape is seriously lacking in a blanket of that stuff we in Minnesota used to get sick of in years past. Today, I miss it and not having some makes it more difficult to get into the Xmas spirit. HA! Gotcha! That's bullshit! It's in the 40's today and I LOVE IT. And last weekend, it was pushing 70 degrees on Saturday and in the 50's on Sunday. No long underwear, no scarf covering my entire face, no freezing for the first 20 minutes until I start sweating under all the layers and then getting cold again once I'm lathered. No shoveling, no driving home at 30mph in a white-out. But, someone needs to educate me about whether this continued diminishing of cold and snow in Minnesota is really due to global warming or if that's another of those bastardized scientific phrases being thrown around like we all know what we're talking about. Boyce? Bring it.

Music is everywhere in the TC, and the last couple weekends were no exception. First, Alpha Consumer released their CD on December 2. Amazing night from front to back, including special guests Chris Koza, Story of the Sea and our beloved Dosh. Here's Mike, Jeremy & JT (barely visible in the back on drums) making arena moves in a local bar. Uh-huh. And here are links to them all: http://www.myspace.com/alphaconsumer = http://www.myspace.com/doshanticon = http://www.myspace.com/storyofthesea = http://www.myspace.com/chriskozaband =
Go check them out, listen and buy their CDs if you like any of it for Xmas gifts or a present for yourselves. Music is always the gift that keeps on giving.

Next weekend, Alex Ward came up from Jacksonville, AL to record more songs in the Mary Ellen Studio on Lyndale. Rumor has it he tracked 40 songs or so in three days -- it's hard to explain, but he writes a song while he sings a song. Prolific doesn't touch it. He's also a brilliant poet. I got to do a little hooting with him on a couple piano offerings. He also graced me with a coveted hardcover of collected poetry by Paul Celan as a belated birthday gift. He'll have a new CD out on Mary Ellen Records in 2007. In the meantime, go here http://www.myspace.com/aalleexxwwaarrdd to get to know him a bit. His website is difficult to read with that blue wash over it but I'm quite sure it was chosen intentionally.

Same weekend, Kitty and I saw Fog and Low perform at First Avenue. Fog, another band we can claim as local, is a power three-piece now and I was wishing they had played in a different venue but it still kicked ass. I cannot wait for their new release. Low? ... well... Kitty turned to me after the second song and said..."I wish I were on my sofa..." It's true. They sounded great and it was sort of amazing to witness the packed First Avenue mainroom floor hush to silence when they started the first song. But, there's not much to see or experience differently than through your stereo splayed out on a comfortable, parallel-to-ground surface, even though some stoned guy named Clarence in a long, black leather coat who glommed onto Kitty while I ran to plug the meter between sets swore that they were the best live band that ever took the stage. He stood there swaying in reverence while Kitty and I grinned in complicity. Yeah, Clarence, whatever.

Still same weekend... The Starry-Eyed Lovelies,comprised of Dean Granrose, Mike Lewis, Dave King and Anthony Cox (Google any of them) played the AQ in St. Paul. That may possibly have been some of the best super-jazz jazz I've heard in many years. They rarely join up and play out, but dear god... it's pretty life informing stuff. If there is ever a recording, I'll let you all know. The best I can offer for now is a visual........ so, I dunno, use your imaginations.

Meanwhile, today marks the 50th straight day in a row that Brent has been in the studio, producing the lads from White Light Riot, who were big winners at the Minnesota Music Awards this year. (ok... it's true he had Thanksgiving off) Brent has clearly entered another dimension of existence, which is fascinating to witness. He's been talking in his sleep in full sentences, most recently "just hammer it in... it'll work" giving orders to his interns, or honking my boob like a bicycle horn three times, and then saying "do you hear that?" One night he was throwing down rhymes ... I mean, seriously, like stanzas of them. He wishes I'd recorded him so he could release a CD of his own dream-inspired work under the name of MC Slumber Flo. I have to move my dictophone from the car to the bedroom.

On another musical note, symphonic swells to Buggy who arrived in my driveway with his kids during that balmy aforementioned weekend with a truckload of firewood (our "Christmas present", he said). After we stacked it all, we took a cruise on the property and he felled a nicely-dead red elm, which he chainsawed in short order and we added the smaller logs to our cache in the shed. He took the rest home at my insistence and if he brings it back to our house split, I'll have to kill him. He redefines the phrase "spirit of giving" and raises the bar for us all since he does it continuously year-round. I, for one, know that I'll never be able to even the score, no matter how hard I try... but I plan to keep trying.

I'm slowly getting things ready around here for the holidays which translates into cleaning after weeks and weeks of neither Brent nor I being here very much. We'll be lucky enough to see some of you at our table and fireplace over the holidays. I wish all of you could be beamed here for Christmas Eve.

This just in... the Humphreeds getting into the spirit out in upstate New York.
Big Love to you all.

note: remember that all you need do is click on images to enlarge them for your viewing pleasure

Giving Thanks

2006-11-26T18:59:00.000-06:00

We had a great Thanksgiving weekend. Everyone was home. Here are some highlights.

After dropping Kitty with friends, Hannah & I had a little dinner at the Mill Street the night she rolled into town. She dreams of beer, but gets coffee instead.

We gathered at Mike & Rita's around 2pm. The weather was surreal... mid-fifties and sunny. A lovely day. Here are the Jensen gurlz all in a row, no relation, but family, nonetheless. These girls have all grown up together. Evelyn, the youngest at 15, is mere months from getting her driver's license. From left to right, Kitty, Fuzzy, Lillian, Evelyn and Hannah. Fuzzy flew in from NYC where Hannah hopes to be by 2008.

Paparazzi caught rock star Mike Lewis on the street prior to dinner being served. It must have been an international call.

Here we are devouring the meal; succulent (truly) rolled & stuffed turkey breasts, a fabulous salad, carmelized onion risotto, wild rice w/dried cranberries, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, lots of kick ass gravy, Mary's Irish potato buns and the always adored sliced canned cranberry mash. Brent looks as if he is holding high mass over his plate. Then, we hung in the yard for many hours, the firepit continually restoked while cigars, cigarettes, french vanilla cognac, wine, coffee and conversation was shared. We were the last to leave, around 11PM.

The following day, we celebrated with the Sigmeth/Hoffman clan at Helen & Gary's. It was the traditional Thanksgiving meal of turkey, sage dressing, sweet potatoes w/ marshmallow topping, mashers, fruit salad and the always anticipated green bean casserole. Leftovers were distributed... did I hear an AMEN!? Here's a rare family photo. And, the post feast crashers....
Even Maria got in on Gerber's version of sweet potatoes. Next year, it's all about the marshmallow topping for her.

There was an afterparty at our place... we got a fire going, nephew Chris stopped by as well as some of Hannah's friends. We listened to music, talked about stuff, enjoyed some coffee drinks Hannah created and did our best to digest our food. I do remember, however, sneaking to the refrigerator at some point late in the evening and reheating the leftover green bean casserole. You bet.

Mad Poets Found in LaCrosse, WI

2006-11-18T19:29:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting here in the homestead half way through a bottle of dry French rose listening to American Roots on NPR out of New Orleans. I know, it sounds dumb, but they are playing Hank Williams, George Jones, Tammy Wynette and even Elvis Costello crooning out the country shit. Does it rock? Like, duh. I'm supposed to show up at Buggy & Vickie's tonight where the smoker is huffing, laden with slabs of venison from seven (count'em) young does he laid to rest, which will now prance their way to our eventual bellies, for which we are already eternally grateful -- all honor and thanks. But before I head over there, I have a story to tell.

Juliet showed in my driveway later than planned for our departure further south to LaCrosse, Wisconsin on Thursday November 16th, 2006. (Now, George Jones is being interviewed.... he's waxing sentimental about a show he was trying to get to which involved getting thrown in jail en route -- his raspy old man voice is killing me.) We were slated to appear as Poet & Rock Star at The Pump House Center for the Creative Arts that evening. A room for us at the motel off I90 was waiting and Juliet had called ahead for early check-in. After one turnaround, we landed at what will now be forever known as the Moose Ass Motel. This place is pretty much beyond description, but, imagine a suburban housewife still devoted to a husband who's done well in the insurance or car business. She doesn't work and has time on her hands, so she decides that the upcoming redeco project on the home front will involve hunting, which he loves. We're talking carpet to walls to tabletop to ceiling detail in horrifying overkill: pinecones and pine bough carpeting, duck decoys nailed to the wall replete w/ duck whistles dangling 'round their necks, bear, fish and elk lamps, grizzly bear art and, in the yard, chainsaw sculptures. You get the picture, but I'll help. (George Jones is talking about having a bird haircut, still doing 70 shows a year and god knows he's old as dirt.)(George was given a nickname -- The Possum -- after which he did something about his hair....)This one is my personal favorite... the bleak if fancifully milling area outside yet another conference room. I'm sweating in those flannel curtains.

Soon, we left our hunting lodge nightmare (albeit comfy -- good towels, soft beds, hi-rent bathroom sundries) and arrived at The Pump House in town. The theatre was unexpectedly warm and inviting; 140 tiered seating capacity, workable sound system, moody lighting. Nice. There we met Bill Stobb and David Krump, our hosts... young men, in deference to the old hippies with a small town vision I'd imagined meeting us at the door. We got set up, sound checked and headed to Piggy's for pre-game warm-ups. It was there I became slowly aware of who I was in company with. Bill has a PhD at 35 and is a professor at Vitero College. He is a poet, slated to be published by Penguin having already been published in serial weighty writing magazines prior. David has just won the most prestigious literary prize for poets under 30 -- the Ruth Lilly Fellowship -- which affords him a $15,000 prize and seven trips to Oxford over the next year. Wha---? Dudes just want to talk about something else, humble beasts that they are, even though Juliet presses a bit, but the conversation sways easily into poets. I listen attentively. After a couple of drinks, we head back to the theatre. Here's where I admit this is my first solo show, after 20 years of "singing professionally". I got through it. Juliet was brilliant as usual, and the open mic which followed was very, very entertaining -- some good stuff. Check Mental Contagion for December for more details.

Then, the party began. (Nina Simone is singing now... not country, but somehow she fits in here.) We bounced back to Piggy's for food & cocktails after the show. The table grew and grew.... Who knew such luciousness lay in the downtown strip of LaCrosse. After Piggy's, we wended our way to the Bodega. Upon entering, I was lofted by an ear-plugged, tattooed, teddy bear bouncer into a very satistying hug. Why? Probably because David was my escort, but I have to say, it did more than the hot tub might have back at the hotel. A college jazz band was set up at the rear of the room and before I knew it, first Bill and then David swept me out onto a dance floor created in our party spirit. Ahhh... I love being whirled and dipped. The guitar player had strains of Jerry Garcia in his offering, the drummer was talented and the sax playing duo up front were doing their best.

The following hours were filled with conversation, one person after another, about music, about poetry, about life and death and the importance or impedence of whiskey. Beautiful, shy human beings each on their own personal exportive journey. But I have to say, these poets know how to party! Bill had to go home first; he's got a family but he had partied well, which says to me he has a good woman at home giving him love for who he is. (Taj Mahal is wailing now .... ) There is no doubt Bill offers the same margins for her. He is a very BIG man, in every sense of the word. Then, we were in David's hands, who appeared to know what to do with us next...

We left the Bodega but not before I was mauled (again!) by the beloved bouncer who obviously had some tatts to shout out on camera.... (Jackie Wilson is giving it up.... bring it!)
Then, it was on to another awesome bar where we rocked a purple pool table. Here is Dave dealing with a steaming heap of pool balls. Pressure..... Melissa and I lost on the 8 ball, but we held our own. She's a painter. I didn't get to talk to her enough.

Then... it was 2 AM.... and downtown was closing. Juliet looked spent... so we turned down the after-party. The streets were swarming with police cars. Dave reiterated the cheap cab ride back to our motel, but I wasn't impaired, I assured him. Well, OK.... slightly impaired, but not beyond driving. Our goodbyes were bittersweet....
... we had fallen in love with these young lads, their pals, their city. Who knew so much life teemed down river? It's simply more evidence that wherever you go, your windows and doors must remain open. After spending three weeks traveling across the country, this visit to LaCrosse was further proof that wherever you go, you will find your people... whether you are in search of tired old barflies, excitable young artists, blue collars, white collars, or up and coming poets. They are, we are, all of us, beacons across the enduring landscape, across the waters and mountains and plains, across the boundaries which pretend to divide us. We have everything to give each other.

Swing Down Chariot is being proffered by some hillbilly crooners on the airwaves now. I'm off to Buggy's where the venison smoke is thick and the bar is stocked. And... what is it about rivers and the congregations that flock to their shores?

What We've Been Doing Since We Got Home

2006-11-14T03:37:00.000-06:00

So, Steph sez, she sez.... "Why no action on the blog?.... I miss it." Well... Steph gets her wish and I offer typically lengthy explanation. It starts with her, actually.... and her friend Lee.... who graced our table with their splendid, entertaining selves. Another great night of food, wine and conversation. Lee and Steph met at Cornell in NYC. Steph is getting closer to being a doctor and Lee, closer to being a novelist. I mean... c'mon... this is good, digestive brain activity over dinner, which is what dinner is about, after all.

After checking in with Kitty at the U of M for an evening, it was off to Madison to visit Hannah, who I'd not seen in months. It sorta went like this...... girl on sofa...
...girl at coffee shop...
...a bit of bird feeding...
...girl at work...
...sunset drive to the grocery store...
...girl loading fridge...
...girl and mommy swilling while cooking (mandatory action)...and much conversation had late into the night in candle light followed by a movie in bed (first night, Woody Allen -- second night, Big Fish) and basically just happy to be lounging in each other's company. There appears to be a hat theme going on here.

On the lovely ride home, a stop in LaCrosse to gaze at the lock and dam on this lovely, chilly day and this git'er'done tugboat....

Meanwhile, back at home, Brent was busy with the young lads of White Light Riot in the illustrious Pachyderm Studio, producing their soon-to-be-award-winning follow-up recording. Here he is, apparently hipping them to guitar suave in his award winning suit (huh?)... while they take notes on their laptops. What's going on here is a longer story, but if we can figure out how to get movies on this blog, you'll understand. Waaaaait for it. Just for the record, Brent has been working every single day since October 25th. But he is having a really great time with this awesome band and on this project, which sounds like a promising future in rock and roll. He's even getting paid a living wage!

Then, there was some more work for me and some more entertaining, this time with our friends Mark & Susan......Romeo is clearly coveting the dessert pig offerings.

Following that, more work and then, The Old Crow Medicine Show at First Avenue with Kitty after pre-game warm-ups at Nye's Polonaise Room. What a great band! Catch them if they come your way... and their Tshirts rock. During the show, she said, "I wanna come home tonight... I wanna see Brent." And so, part two of our evening began. En route down Hwy 52, just to spice things up further, we called Mike and ordered him to get his ass down to the farm, swinging by the studio for some meet n' greet the band and... some party. I didn't think Mike would show up, but, he surprised us all and after more studio party, we (barely) made it up the driveway. All members in the White Light Riot crew gladly pushed from the rear on all three cars after what had suddenly become a hellacious blizzard descending on the river valley. Mike was in front so he led the way home, which was almost unnavigable, but hey... we're Minnesotans and we know how to do this stuff ...and after actually all making it up our own driveway, settled cozily into part three of our growing-ever-longer and more luxurious evening... ...involving dining room-tabled laptops, guitars, thawing out a red chicken curry and even more party until finally folding comfortably into our respective beds past 4am.

When I woke up next morning, I couldn't believe how horrible I was feeling. I was sure I'd not overdone it, even though we were up late, since that's a natural occurrance 'round heah and we're all atuned to the rhythm of it. After Kitty and Mike left, I took to my bed and remained there for the weekend with only the flu as bad company. It sucked, as flu has a tendency to do but that's its nature. By Sunday, I was barely back on my wobbly feet but anxious to do something. In between naps, I got laundry rotating, kitchen cleaned and floor mopped, bedroom tidied and a Tex-Mex stew bubbling on the stove by 7pm. Mike had returned to Pachyderm to record some saxophone tracks for the WLR lads and when he was done, well... you know... he stopped by for some food and some company. Brent returned home hours later and the conversation deepened into the night. Before Mike left this morning, we did the forest trail with the dogs...... and scarfed down fried egg sandwiches. Somewhere in there, Brent came blearily downstairs for coffee, stumbled back up to the shower and left for work. Mike left shortly thereafter. I turned on the radio, dragged the pile of bills onto the table and let the dogs out again to sit in what remains of the snow from that crazy blizzard. Rocky enjoys how it cools his arthritic hips.

We're back to life as usual in the Cannon River Valley... work when we can get it, late nights as often as we can sustain it, love around the table and food within reach. Steph? I hope this helped quench your S&N blog thirst. It's 5:00 AM and now that Jack has returned home from his Coyote Meeting on the prairie and this post is finished, I think I better give it up and go to bed. Or... maybe I should wait just a little while longer to watch the sunrise. Mmmm.... life is good.

(p.s. just for the record, any of these fotos can be enlarged simply by clicking on them... happy viewing!)

Post Script Upper

2006-10-26T00:28:00.000-05:00

This was in my mailbox this afternoon in a tiny envelope, contents intact, including cash. Like I said before, there are good people everywhere.....

Landing

2006-10-25T21:55:00.000-05:00

Here's Brent conjuring the very last of the absinthe, which we absconded with out of Oregon, and even with copious sharing had the decency to stretch until the home stretch. It looks as if he's having success with the gods of self-destructive poets and tireless adventurers. This was our final ritual after returning home from the western slopes. What a trip. Like, literally.

This morning, I took the boys out for a long walk. Beautiful, crisp fall morning (as "they" say and say and say ad nauseum but it's still true) and everyone was excited to take the upper prairie-down-through-the-forest-to-forest-path route. Jack had, clearly, been eating corn from the recent harvest, exhibited in his frequent, stinky trail deposits. At least they are not being left in the house. Half way down the trail, the dudes got amped and looking towards the lower prairie, I saw an eight point buck high tailing it through the grasses at full speed. They dogs took off; Rocky and Romeo came back in short order but Mighty Jack was not seen for awhile. He should be president. He never gives up or is influenced by lobbyists. We flushed out a few turkeys from the clearing and I stopped to watch a red tail hawk circling once we got to the river. He was screeching and tearing up the clear blue sky. Damn. I never get sick of that. It was then I realized I was happy to be home.

Returning home, I finished up email after putting yet another load of laundry into the washer and then, the oven timer went off. What? I went to turn it off -- and affixed to it was a blue Post-It note that said "I love you!" The Dude abides. After that entertaining moment, I made a grocery list, cleaned up the dishes, put other things away and set off for town. First I went to the local car wash and vacuumed out the three-week pile of this and that in the car. Had a teary-eyed moment when the salt flats and the dunes just wouldn't let themselves be removed from the floor mats. I feel summoned. Truth be told, I'd love to live out there somewhere. Always have.... never did. Life is complicated sometimes.

So, I have to hold forth on Maureen Donohue... most of you know (or at least remember) her from the nuptials. Irish, loud, worker bee fashionista who is also a stud -- Xcountry skier, hiker, all around athlete (buff & fabulous) who is ALSO a dog lover. She stayed at the house and took care of the hairy toddlers.... FOR THREE WEEKS... working in the city all the while. She also has a dog, who mixed well with the pack, along with her boyfriend Declan (an Irishman who deserves her, from what I can tell even though I've not yet met him), various and assorted pals who came and went during her retainment/vacation here. When we came back she had left this glorious birthday arrangement on the dining room table.

Let me break it down for you since it was difficult to photograph. Three hand made party hats complete w/ baubles she dutifully found in the basement (scrounger that she is), five gorgeous blood red roses plunked in lovely Italian pottery, some crazy Native Americanesque beaded trivet and, the most glorious gift, a GIANT "smoke bomb" mushroom with a bird nest/berry/feather "hat". I'm sure the mushroom is the one I spied on the forest trail prior to departure which was, at the time, white and growing. I'll have to ask her. She even dragged down Kitty's almost life sized Barbie doll to complete the look. Other presents were left to be found, like a sweet little potholder in the drawer next to the oven, a deck of Bush playing cards, and this.... on the master bedroom mirror....

There it is. She said it... I'm 50. And this is what it looks like... and today, walking along the windswept prairie, I got all amped up about the weather-beaten face and body I aspire to. It's all about being where you are and the person you've become after everything and before everything that will come.

Shout out for Mo. Thanks upon thanks, Maureen, and if there is anything here that I find that is actually not intended for me, please let me know. I'll happily return swiftly to you.... you Goddess. And I think the Irish need to go out drinking soon, right?

Having said all that, here's a final statement about intentions. I can't say that this would be one of mine, but after some people walk the planet for awhile, they become focused on certain things.... In case you can't read the article, this gentle man (yes, space intended), Douglas Tabler, freaked out about live lobsters being sold at the local Co-Op (which doesn't bode well for the Co-Op vibe) when "he and his partner saw them huddled in the corner of the tank feeling that the lobsters were afraid". So, he bought up the ones in the case and mailed them to his brother in Boston for release. His brother is the Humboldt Baykeeper Director so I suppose he has all kinds of rights in that regard. The lobsters cost $80 and the shipping was $140. He says he'll continue until the sales stop. What's a Co-Op to do? That's intention for you.

Peace Out....

WE'RE ALL HOME AND STUFF!

2006-10-23T22:30:00.000-05:00

Today was a good day. We headed out from Sheridan @ 7:33AM (MST). Wendy had an egg & cheese bisquit from Burger King, I had coffee (breakfast), and we found the highway. Just plant that cruise control at 80 MPH and steer. Wyoming was really scenic and the roads were SMOOOOOOOOTH.

South Dakota? Not so much. Bad roads, weird towns, lots of road repair that didn't help much (doin' it on the cheap, I'm sure), and a lot of nothing. I did find a two-SUV caravan from Michigan to follow - the lead driver had a radar detector, so we were able to achieve an average of 80-85 MPH, which makes for good time (specially when you want to get the hell through South Dakota!). I did take particular notice, though, when we passed by Mount Vernon and Mitchell, South Dakota. Mount Vernon is where my Dad's mother's parents had a small farm. It was opening pheasant hunting day in SD today, too, and my Great Grandfather, Harry Hanson, was a pheasant hunting guide there. Great Grandmother Cora was in a nursing home in Mitchell the last time I saw her (probably 1973??) before she passed on. And Mitchell is the home of the Corn Palace, so .... South Dakota ain't so bad (but, really, pretty bad ...). probably gets better the farther away from the interstate that you get -- a lot like many states, I imagine.

At the border of Minnesota (the higher taxed state), there was a huge greeting sign, the interstate turned to velvetty-smooooooth blacktop, the road signs were prominant and informative (thanks 3M and your sign making contracts! Ha!).

When we pulled into Cannon Falls around 8:40PM, we were greeted at the Super America (and ain't America just SUPER!??!?) by Kitty's buddy, Travis, who works there. Picked up some Half&Half and some eggs. Got home. The dogs were wimpering, leaping, and happy (thanks to Maureen, who probably gave them more attention than they get from us in a year!).

It's good to be home, dammit!!! What a ride ........... sigh. The scout and I successfully spent 21 days together 24 hours/day, but we did get into some fights. The first one was about a U-Turn (I think), the second one was about not hearing what Scout or Navigator said (You know, "assuming makes an ass out of you and me"). Both "fights" lasted a couple seconds and then we made up. It was a test: Could we remove ourselves from the normal day-to-day comforts and familiarity and still be Scout & Navigator on the road across America? Well, we did it. We're in love (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), and that's why we didn't fail it. Thanks to all who traveled along with us via these here internets!!!! It was so good to have you with us (duh!).

Now, I'm going back to writing my new smash-hit country song: "ADOPT A HIGHWAY"

Parting Shots

2006-10-23T01:58:00.000-05:00

One thing I learned about my beloved husbundt tonight was that he covets a blue 1950's toilet. I know my next mission.

Just had to share this, from Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. Wish we could have stayed there, just to tempt fate.

This, our last stop in Sheridan, Wyoming, as Brent has already intimated, is the motel we want to take in our car in a Ziploc bag and unfold for every stop along our next journey to anywhere. Humble presentation, hi-fi friendly service, clean retro room, WWII Pacific war TV (20,000 American casualties and 6,000 deaths in one battle on Iwo Jima -- can't wrap our brains or consciousness around it at all), and all for $50 including tax. Our neighbors were unbelievably loud for an hour and a half (Brent kept peeking out the curtain) -- sounded like they were stomping around their room w/ lead boots on, but all is quiet now.

It's time for bed now. The train is coming through town... the whistle is blowing. I can't stand it... it's too nostalgic. Ouch.

Finally, here's what it's really all about. Ahhh.... the endless.... eternal.... and abiding....

Thanks for coming along with us. It's been quite a ride.

luvluvandmoreluv

Alamo Motel - Sheridan, Wyoming

2006-10-22T23:32:00.000-05:00

This Motel wins as BEST MOTEL for our entire 3-week trip. The twenty-something latino fellow at the desk was incredibly helpful from the get-go. Wendy explained to him that a lot of motels advertise "FREE WIRELESS" only to find out that it's weak and doesn't even work most of the time (But, it's free, so how can you complain, yadda-yadda-yadda). He assured us that we would each have four bars of reception (we were still skeptical). We hooked up the lap-tops and BAMMM: FOUR BARS! The bathroom sports some glass brick window action, canary yellow and baby blue tile work, a blue porcelain toilet and tub, tons of shower pressure, refrigerator, microwave, pleasant smelling for a smoking room (the only room they had left), and parking 3 feet from the door! price, you ask? With tax .... $50. Nice.

Coeur d'Alene to Sheridan

2006-10-22T11:02:00.000-05:00

We drove ..... this country is immense. That is all.

Leaving Seattle (Sweet Seattle) ....

2006-10-22T01:34:00.000-05:00

So, we left SUNNY Seattle and Diane's cozy pad, headed North a few miles to hook up with my old buddy Maia, her husband Jeff, and their adorable little peanut, Sophia (who was born on the same day as our friends Trisha and John's Sophia!). We caught up; we agreed - through the fog of time - that we hadn't seen each other since about 1995, which is CRAZY, but had kept in contact over the years through email and phone calls. It was so great to see Maia as a happy, albeit tired (as expected), and connected mom. Her husband Jeff is a fella we'd like to know better as well; his Radio K bumper-sticker was a curiosity when we pulled into their driveway .... later we found that he lived in Minneapolis for a couple years.

Anyway, we also had some great sandwiches on their deck, talked about our lives a little bit, and entertained Sophia as she entertained us. It was the perfect sunny Seattle send-off in a season that should be bringing the rains of Winter at this time of year (the Scout & Navigator get good atypical weather AGAIN!). We also talked about how little most people change as they grow older; Maia seemed as familiar to me as she did in 1988 or 1995. WACKY ... but, so good.

Sophia is getting pretty good at Tinker Toys --- a little tinkerer. I'm sure that Maia and Jeff would concur. What a little sweetheart she was!

Then, it was off to Idaho for the night ... on the way, we saw these sights:

The Cascade Range:

An hour or so later (Navigator took a nap!) ... The Columbia River:

Runnin 'Round Seattle with Mark & Lady Di

2006-10-22T01:00:00.000-05:00

This part of our trip rocked ass ....TOTALLY. Wish we'd had camp counselors like these guys in SanFrancisco... things might have gone much much better. As with most cities, Seattle has neighborhoods and we covered a bunch of them in less than 48 hours: first a walk to Upper Queen Anne for provisions, returning for a delightful dinner at Chez Lady Di and then down to Fremont and along the Washington Lake canal, also on foot. Later, more cocktails in Lady's Di's four-story DE-luxe hill house and finally to bed. Next morning...a luxurious slow start, soft boiled eggs & homemade muffins, and then off to Mark's Playboy Pad, picture windows overlooking a commercial seaport filling tanker ships with grain, which is what he's always lusted for as a view. Next, busline downtown to the Bainbridge Ferry and a short walkabout (a way-bit-too 50th & France for anyof our tastes ) but the ferry was an awesome ride with the added color of a bored captain who, after embarking, announced ".... there is good news and bad news.... the bad news is, I have had more accidents at sea than any other captain in Seattle -- but the good news is, I'm not driving the ferry today...." and then went on to point out the safety features of the ferry. (note: once again, coffee cup in hand)

We'd planned that morning to take the Bremerton ferry, on Mark and Di's recommendation, and walk around this last bastion of affordable Seattle real estate (where the artists are moving, sez Di) -- a more colorful, lo-fi territory, befitting our adventurous and acrid tastes. But, it took an hour to get there after waiting an hour and a half for embarking and there was too long a wait for return so we opted for "just a ferry ride" to Bainbridge in lieu of more tantalizing destinations. Next time we visit, touring Bremerton is going to be my primary initiative, since I'm always planning to move somewhere else.

Meanwhile, Mark recounted an anecdote about Bremerton, the Seattle naval base where his ship was docked state side when he was an enlisted sailor, during the Vietnam War. (Those of you who know Mark, imagine him decked out in his blue and white sailor uniform..... wait for it.....!!!! THERE!) He said that since moving to Seattle, he'd had a nostalgic drink at a bar where he used to imbibe with his fellow sailors when they didn't have enough money to make it to the mainland. When they did have money, god only knows what happened upon their arrival in Seattle. You'll have to ask him. And I can't wait to drink some Irish whiskey at that bar.

The dudes did a little blue-collar manly work to bring a little of that "Bremerton vibe" to the too-precious streets of Bainbridge ....
(note: Brent & ... what else?....coffee.... even while lifting heavy objects)
Returning from the ferry we visited an amazing book store and strolled through the downtown area for awhile looking for a place to hold cocktail & appetizer times. Here we are waiting for our hors d'oeuvres, which took over an hour to be delivered, at the Triple Door (a longer story).... there was no gratis food b/w/o apology, but we were thanked "for our patience". Fortunately for them, the food was really really good once it got there.... Lady Di is holding forth and making a good point, as usual. She has been my hero for many years.

And here we are in East Lake at the Zoo (a socialist bar) playing out Nordeast traditions like pool and a cheap pitcher of beer (note: Basil Rathbone: wall photo on the far left -- must be Mark's long lost uncle, right?)
And here's the cab ride that ate my wallet... (gone, gone, gone... classic!) Thankfully, our cash is in the First Aid Kit.

After East Lake we went to Capitol Hill, scarfted some awesome Thai food and then back to Upper Queen Anne for a nightcap and coffee -- the bar was loud and slamming stupid corporate techno for the girls in "retro" 80's garb and the bartenders were assholes. So, returning to Chez Lady Di, we went the last mile as a palate cleanser, cooking up some absinthe for the final final nightcap. I asked for a night of barhopping ... and I got it.

Thanks Mark & Di. Yer the best, as always.... count on it!

Leaving Klipsan - Headed for Seattle

2006-10-22T00:07:00.000-05:00

Klipsan Beach Cottages Cozy Action Times Love Action

2006-10-19T01:30:00.000-05:00

Here I am posting from the toilet; it ain't so bad ... a few years ago, this travel 'blogging wouldn't have been possible anyway. The Scout is out in the dining area blogging away. I realized something today: We had to inform Denny (the owner) that we would be staying an extra day by 11AM. I threw on some clothes, made some coffee, and walked around looking for him or his wife, Mary. I could see some smoke from a fire billowing from behind their complex, so I found my way back there through the gardens and yards and said, "good day for a fire, huh!?" Denny said, "Yeah, I've been waiting all Summer for this ... we had a fire ban in effect until last week. How are you two doing? Everything going fine?". I answered, "Everything is perfect." He lit up a Winston and we continued talking about living in a small community and all that. But, the mind-stirring thing about hanging out with him was that I could see myself doing what he does - like he was me a few decades down the road --- which lead me to wonder if the Scout and I are destined for resort-owner status ... maybe a fitting retirement occupation?

Hosting different people and return customers in an official way, like we do on our own porch in Cannon Falls. Scout concurs. So, for the next 10 years or so, I think we'll be keeping our eyes and ears open for some kind of property that we could retire on hosting people from around the country. I think we could pull it off ... all this proves is that a vacation of this sort makes you look closer at time, retirement, and ways to survive happily until you tip over for good.

(P.S. I love you, Wendy ........ not kidding at all in the least for sure you bet duh!)

SCORE!!!

2006-10-18T17:49:00.000-05:00

As I've mentioned, we really hoped that the encounter with beach lightning might conjure up a piece of shoreline and a nice cottage before we left for Seattle and then, home. On the phone, Rita mentioned an area she and Mike had visited on their last trip west on a skinny long peninsula that begins about six miles west of this amazing bridge we encountered leaving Astoria, Oregon where the Columbia River dumps into the Pacific. I don't think I've seen anything like it before.... a roller coaster bridge! I imagine there have been plenty of times that the lower portion of this bridge was completely submerged in a mix of fresh and salt water. Amazing.

Reaching the other side (about 3 miles later!!) we'd arrived in Washington state. We drove west through Chinook where there is much history available at the Lewis & Clark Interpretive Center and sites around Cape Disappointment State Park & Lighthouse but we headed up the peninsula to get a place to stay. The peninsula is about thirty miles long and only three miles wide, interrupted with little towns like Seaview, Long Beach and Oysterville, which is the very last tiny town before the Willapa National Wildlife Refuge and Leadbetter Point State Park.

The resort Mike & Rita stayed at was not responding via phone and when we pulled up, the office was dark and locked. We drove up past Ocean Park, checked out a few more dumpy motels and were starting to get discouraged. We turned around and headed back south. On the north edge of Klipsan Beach I spied a quiet grey sign: Klipsan Beach Cottages. Pulling in, it looked expensive and when an enormous Doberman barked from behind the locked office door at me I thought we were destined for the Super8 Motel chain. I hesitated before walking away ... and just then Denny appeared like a light in a dark road trip moment. He let me in, his dog calmed down and I said, "You have any rooms I can afford?" and he said "I want all your money!" Ocean views? Yes. Kitchenettes? Yup. Internet? Uh-huh... wireless. How much? I winced. $100. WHAT?!? We walked out to the car and he said to Brent..." Wanna see a cottage?.... $200!" He showed us two cottages and we took the one with the big fireplace, large window and sliding glass door opening to a huge deck overlooking a lovely, rolling grassy dune and the ocean beyond -- a 3-minute walk to the beach. "I've gained three acres since I bought this place... the ocean used to come up to the edge of the trees." I think he said he'd owned it since 1975. What a deal!

This resort is very neat and tidy; landscaped grounds that are beautiful but not precocious or precious, well-designed and utilitarian. The eight cottages plus the grand A-frame stand in a row facing the Pacific. There's an open-air shed stacked to the roof with wood; a big stump, an axe for splitting and a wheelbarrow to roll the wood to your cabin. "I don't chop it for you... and don't take your leg off -- you city folks don't know much about chopping wood", he said, "and no smoking in the cottage!... I can't even smoke in my own house." Another shed lined with BBQ grills on wheels which you can roll up to your deck and an area to clean fish or clams and ... a pay phone. No cellphone signal to be found here btw, not even roaming. The WiFi comes and goes for me, but Brent is relegated once again to the bathroom or the front stoop... the one and only downside to this place, given our penchant to travelblog.

Denny reminds me of a guy who shoulda been doin' stand-up in Vegas, sporting aa handsome beer belly like Brent (he likes his beer, he said) a quick, deadpan wit with steady delivery ...you can just hear a punchline coming, and he threw us a few. He looks a bit like a short Walter Mondale in Levi 501's and a cooler hairdo. He whipped out a map marking restaurants, grocery stores and fresh fish markets for us -- very helpful -- and told us what wasn't good, in his opinion, in addition to repeating (four times) that if we wanted to stay another night, we had to let him know by 11AM. (I had weird dreams worrying I'd sleep past 11AM since I couldn't fall asleep until 4:30AM) I'll try to get a photo of he and his wife Mary before we leave. They run a tight ship here and they are awesome. I have to get the name of their dog too!

Storytimes: After loading into the cottage, we drove south into Long Beach in search of dinner when we should have gone the shorter distance north to Ocean Park and gotten groceries there as well. Not much open in Long Beach and the first place we saw was a bar & grill sorta spot. Walking up the sidewalk, an ENORMOUS, bear-sized, territorial dog in the bed of a truck first growled, then barked and finally lunged, straining at a leather leash that didn't look very secure at the time. We laughed nervously and then scooted into a place that seemed okay from the doorway but once inside was... uhhh... not so good... instantly bad vibe.

It was one of those moments when everyone turns to look at you and if you leave, it's just not cool. So, we slid into a black Naugahyde booth struggling to converse over the straining voice earnestly going after a 90's girlie ballad on the Karoke machine, while we tried to figure out if there was a server or if we should just approach the bar. Finally, this skinny, overly-amped, scarey-smiley bartender approached our table (meth addict?) over-apologizing about not seeing us and then, again and again aaaaannnnnd again. Some guy was meandering back and forth aimlessly between a table and his beer on the bar, clearly wasted, but looking as if he was accomplishing something or other. To our left, a table full of white trashers were yapping and snarfing what looked like tacos from some distant steam table. The next Karoke singer launched into some country song. Yikes! We decided to order a drink and get the hell outta there ASAP. We were drinking some unidentified and nasty Irish whiskey, which I left 3/4 of in the glass as we exited, running into the bartender who was manically smoking and talking on a remote phone outside the door. He hailed us and apologized AGAIN for "not seeing us" to which we said, "no problem maaaahhhn", but kept moving, past Kujo in the truck without incident (didn't even growl... he must have figured out we're dog people) and hi-tailed it to a great Thai Restaurant where we met these kissy face fish....
and had a kick ass meal w/ left-overs to boot. Another S&N road night. I'm beginning to think we are magnets for making fun out of the weird, dark shit... which is fine and great and whatever but I was not in the mood last night for more white trash meth party tragic crazy. I just wanted to get back to that cozy little cottage on the dunes, dammit! It was time for a respite from the plight of America's small communities.

There has been steady rain since this morning. We went into Ocean Park to grab groceries; Klipsan Beach for fresh seafood -- oysters, crab, scallops. I'll make some kinda something for dinner out of what we have and we'll just hang here for the night. A quiet, uneventful evening ... unless the tsunami decides it's time to roll and we are staying in a tsunami zone. Now, wouldn't that be perfect..?... S&N finally land a great place to hang out and then....CRASH, SLOSH, GURGLE, GURGLE --- DOWN! Could be a great way to go, if we have to. But, I don't think we're ready to check out of the planet anytime soon. We're still having fun and reading the guest book library only reinforced our own feelings. We'll be back here.... maybe we'll bring some of you along.

Meanwhile, Brent takes a nap....

LOOKOUT BIRTHDAY TIMES, ETC!!!

2006-10-18T00:08:00.000-05:00

Nothing like a 5 mile round-trip hike up and down hills and switchbacks to Lookout Point to prove that the Scout can kick my hiking butt. It was so worth it, though. Again, no words. But, seeing the Scout on her birthday as happy as clam dip to be sharing this overwhelming vista made it seem like it was my birthday, too!

After Lookout Point, we high-tailed it to a restaurant called The Pirate's Cove. Great view, great mashed potatoes, good wine, good steak, lousy seafood (go figure), too expensive (refigure). After dinner, we made our way around Cape Meares Lighthouse and finally ended up back in Netarts (which we began referring to as Retarts and/or Netards) where we were staying at a pretty ridiculous "cottage". We found a bar down on the water called The Schooner. The Scout will hold-forth on the great time we had there with Dave, Amy, Trish, and Lavelle.
Below, you will see a photo of the interior of our "cottage". It was way more funny than disappointing.

You know, when you're a photo-stylist, you can't pass up an opportunity like this one. The Scout didn't have to do any work; this photo just took itself.

When we checked out in the morning, the fellow at the desk told me in his broken English that he had once delivered corn seed to a farmer in Minnesota and he gave him coffee and pie, so every time he rents to a Minnesotan, "I am so happy". Hmmmm. (Wonder how he'd like to house Norm Coleman?!?!?!)

This morning, we hit the Tillamook Air Museum. It's housed in a blimp hanger built in 1943 for coastal patrolling -- the hanger itself is known as the world's largest wooden structure. It's footprint is 7 acres (!!!!). Anyway, we spent about 2 hours there looking at all the old WWII fighters and bombers, some later model aircraft, and a lot of photos and memorabilia. The highlight for me was to walk around this beauty - the Chance-Vaught F4U-4 Corsair, my favorite airplane (every boy has a favorite airplane --- Rev. Boyce, I will send you photos of their P-38 Lightning ... pristine!).

Tonight, we found the best lodging so far on our trip. A little cottage on the Long Beach Peninsula. We'll be posting from here, but AGAIN the Navigator has to go out to the front of the cottage to get Wi-Fi access, while the Scout sits at our dining room table internetting away at will. Oh, well .... there can be no complaining after a find like this (which was spotted by Scout, of course, as we drove frantically looking and as our disappointment began to rise with every place we looked at ... there's even a fire crackling away in our fireplace.

So Much to Post, So Little WiFi

2006-10-17T16:23:00.000-05:00

OK--- it's 10/17 and we're in Tillamook, Oregon at a strip mall doing more laundry. The Radio Shack next door has unintentionally proffered us their wireless signal and while the clothes go round and round in the dryer, I'll pack as much as possible into this post. We haven't downloaded any photos from my birthday adventures yet, so that post is yet to come but I assure you it was quite a day ... and quite quite the night.

Here are some more photos from our time w/ Fatguy at Cooley's Cottage -- a cute little place much like what you'd find on the North Shore.

It was a two block walk from the beach and we had no view but the back deck was surrounded with coastal shrubbery which gave us privacy from neighbors. On Friday night, we found a pretty damn good dinner in Old Town at the Waterfront Restaurant. A self-proclaimed shaman (with "heavy necklace") was our waiter and he poured on the charm(s) if you know what I mean. Returning to the cabin, we made our way to the beach in the dark. The tide was out but the water was wild and it was windy. The weather was grey the next day, but we did some stuff anyway like driving to a state park to see the dunes.
The dunes are much larger and more impressive than can be seen here -- but I really had no idea that pine trees grew all over them -- a strange sight for a girl used to midwestern black dirt spawning pines. In the distance, people rode rental dune buggies up and down the steep slopes. Hilarious. We decided not to spend the money. But, I made a Lumix movie of a tiny blonde boy sandboarding on the dunes. It's all the rage out here. I'll show it to you sometime when we invite you to dinner to view our vacation photos and films. You know... the night when everyone falls asleep while we go on and on and on and on....

Then, we took a long walk on the beach near our cottage....
....returning to the cottage for cocktails serviced by the 1960's vintage Executair 707 port-a-bar I gave Brent for Christmas two years ago, which we finally got to break in on this trip.... (note the squeeze cheese for color and fun with crackers).

.... and, finally, an awesome take-out from Thai Talay,my favorite being the hot seafood curry which had tons of scallops, shrimp, crab, myriad fish and mussels (still in their shell) and god knows what other kind of sea creature. Damn.... that was good.

What happened next (after absinthe) is what you've already read in the previous post.... that crazy encounter with beach lightening. We were lucky to make it out alive and we are definitely enlightened for having survived it. Nirvana takes unexpected forms. We are beginning to really understand how Rimbaud wrote poems like a madman for four years and then disappeared into the ocean.

Today we're leaving Tillamook, heading north to the Washington coastline -- Long Beach -- as we've been advised to check out. It appears there is much history around the Lewis & Clark expedition which brought those brave and weary dudes & company, on the last leg of their journey via the Missouri River to the Pacific. Some good hikes will be had here I'm sure. And possibly sleeping in the car if we can't find a place to stay.

We hope to finally get a cottage that feels right for a couple days ... something on the beach or at least with an ocean view that doesn't cost a million dollars or, worse, look like a suburban neighborhood replete with stone gates, private resort signs and garish streetlights.... for what....?.... spotting land sharks? What we have discovered on this trip is that the Ma & Pa motels of the past are struggling and very rundown, and while we can roll with that (even though we've tired of it after two weeks), they are not very affordable either, especially for what you're getting. The rest of the beachfront places have become condos or are huge, corporate hotels which just suck, no matter what. So even if we have to blow our budget, we're gonna get a piece of beach. Or at least a clean bathroom that doesn't flood the floor when you shower. Still, we have dug the human beings we've met along the lo-fi way and decided that there really are awesome people most everywhere... and they far outweigh the assholes.

ONWARD, BRAVE TRAVOLIERS!!!

Localized Beach Lightening Near Old Town

2006-10-17T15:54:00.000-05:00

This post was scribed by Fatguy in a rainy, foggy, windy Newport OR on October 15, where we bid him farewell after our time in Florence, OR at Cooley's Cottage .... So long Fatguy.... see you at Christmas!

Here we are preparing to go hunt “beach lightening”, which has been talked about by the locals but which no one had actually captured in the wild. Our neighbor, in fact, was threatening to call the cops on the lightning, though why he thought this was a valid threat was beyond us.
The first tool necessary for success is absinthe, which just happened to be provided, once again, by Fatguy. This only seems to work correctly with a heavy dose of spiritual mumbo. Jumbo? Not so much.

Once thoroughly prepped, we slipped to the beach, past the glowing séance the locals had thrown together attempting to save themselves, the poor dupes. This is just before we got hit….

And now the phenomenon kicks in, chasing ‘round Scout while Navigator and Fatguy wet their pants in abject fear.

Next, Navigator got the once-over. He claims he smells nothing but brimstone since.

And finally, Fatguy gets his, sprouting his Vishnu arms, lifting off only to return later riding to the cottage on the biggest, boldest raccoon you’ve ever seen.

Was it a dream? A vision?
Yes, and Yes.

Just One More

2006-10-13T03:14:00.000-05:00

Here's Brent in The Vineyard Inn... after our night with Uncle Buck... Brent Down #2 (see Salt Lake City post) .... damn.... we know how to have a vacation.

The Wee Walks Among Giants

2006-10-13T02:51:00.000-05:00

So, these are like the biggest trees in the world, these redwoods. And here I am at the Econo Lodge in Eureka on the steps outside of our room (because apparently Mac Powerbooks don't have as good of a wireless receptor as iBooks ... Wendy is relaxing on our bed with two bars, while I have to go out into the not-so-bad 56 degree weather in my pajamas). But, really ... back to the giant redwoods. THEY'RE HUGE!!! I stumbled upon a website for a motel complex that was built solely from ONE of these trees. (Take a deep breath, Brent). Just to touch a part of a stump that was growing around the time that Jeebus was born is just beyond words...). If the redwoods don't make you appreciate the planet we live on and how tiny we are in the whole scope of things, I'm not sure what would do it for ya. I mean look at this shit!

Love,

Redwoods promoter #1

HONEYMOON TRIP (Day 10)

2006-10-13T01:24:00.000-05:00

Ah, the fog rolls in and suddenly a fella is looking as if he's above the clouds. Something about the coast of North America -- it just always seems to me that it's the final goodbye to the day in America. It's like the closing credits in a film. That's what I love about it. It feels like that ... like you're casually the last person awake at night and everyone else missed what happened after they went to sleep (or something like that ... I'm sure that I could make it more poetic, but ...). Being out here with my Scout is timeless. We're just drifting, silently through all this intake. It's magic.

And the roads just wind through. I've already planned a trip in my head on rented motorcycles with Buggy. It's too much. It's almost Science Fiction ...

And then just look at my sweet Scout, my panda cub pop-tart one-and-only checking out another speechlessness area! I want to spend more time out here someday when we win the lottery or invent the next post-it-note. I feel GOOD out here, so much so that Ol' Scout hasn't heard much from me for days and days (and I, in turn, haven't heard much from myself, either ... just a sort of constant BBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Tomorrow, it's Florence, Oregon at Cooley's Cottage with Fatguy; I know he's ready. Bring on the coastal cottage and the coastal Absinthe!!!! One must live from time to time ... as I did today when I hauled this 600 year-old redwood chunk up this hill with my bruteness:

SanFran, "Uncle Buck" and Fort Bragg

2006-10-12T21:36:00.000-05:00

San Francisco: lots of walking, bussing, eating and fending off aggressive, albeit theatrical, panhandlers. I’m a nice person, but I was ready to punch the next one who got in my face for money. Highlights: dinner at John’s Grill (first night in the city), the guy who held Brent up with that phone/penny trick, Haight-Ashbury, a confusing, after dark 25-block trudge through the Mission hood (we should have eaten some Latino food there but we never did find that club called “The Make Out Room” – of course, I didn’t write down the address), North Beach “disco” Italian w/ the Mob (both Italian & Russian) at the table behind us and last but not least, stumbling upon Vesuvio (the bar Kerouac & Ginsberg drank & schemed in) where we drank…. what else?.... Tuaca! Lola has wanted me to see this place for years. And there, magically, it appeared -- a nice bit of synchroni-city.

“Uncle Buck”: aka Matthew Nagan – entrepreneur, restauranteur and all around good times provocateur. We called en route to Sonoma, where chef Matthew owns & operates The Schellville Grill, hoping to dine there. The restaurant wasn’t open that night, but myriad wine bottles were opened anyway and our party didn’t end until well after midnight.

The A’s lost the game but that chicken quesadilla topped with fresh avocado slices and “special sauce” he cooked up afterwards was perfecto.

Uncle Buck was in rare form as usual with anecdotes and adages galore but Matt had to get up at 4am to rev up his awesome restaurant for the breakfast crowd. Of course, we ate there after enjoying a lot more sleep than he did before breakfast. The chipotle gravy kicked ass along with everything else. Uncle Buck, thanks again for getting us such a great deal on that chi-chi motel. Thanks so much for everything! Trust me, this guy really knows how to live and love. Can’t wait to hang out with him again.

Fort Bragg: not much to bragg about. This is the best white trash town -- from one bleary end to the other -- that I’ve been in since Hastings. But I have to say that it’s always easy to talk to people in places like this and I’m not sure why. I met one guy out from upstate NY there with eight other guys from his demolition company doing coastal clean up work. What?? That’s crazy. He sez there’s no work back home… I sez… Whaddyamean?... the East River ain’t dirty enough to keep youse busy?

Meet Kristy and Dylan, our bartenders at TW’s . Kristy grew up in Sacramento and on her only visit to grandma’s house in Brainerd at 10- years of age, she not only heard Paul Bunyon call out her name but also contracted Lyme’s disease and after returning to California spent months recovering in the hospital and then, in a wheelchair. Kristy's bored in Fort Bragg, she says, but it’s cooler than Sacramento. Dylan is, yes indeed, named after Bob Dylan and her father is a bona fide Bob Dylan freak. Her brother’s first name is Zimmerman. It’s true.

And, in towns like these, there are always gigantic plates of food for a good price, even if the food’s not good at all. All meals were served with a cocktail umbrella stuck into them… like this….

So tonight, we’re in Eureka after doing this….

and some of this….

and a little more of this….

…..AND tomorrow night after driving up even more of Hwy 1 and 101, we’ll be landing in Florence, Oregon at a place we rented called Cooley’s Cottage. It’s a family cabin we found on Craig’s list…. a pathway’s reach from the beach they said, and the town appears to sport great hi-fi to lo-country food – the Thai Restaurant bragging fresh seafood curries sounds awesome. Let’s hope it looks as good live as it does online. In either case, we can’t lose because our beloved Fatguy will be joining us for the weekend. Woo-hoo!

HONEYMOON TRIP (Day 9) Marin Headlands

2006-10-12T11:46:00.000-05:00

Not too many words for this one. This is one of my favorite views. Weather was perfect. Wendy had one of her perfect coincidental moments when she was trying to determine the identity of a particular bird ... a birdwatcher fellow just happened to walk up, identify it for her, and also treat us to some bird calls.

Before WWII, this gun emplacement was built for a 16 inch gun with a range of 7 miles to protect the harbor. It was never armed, since the possibility of an attack by 1943 seemed impossible due to the success of the Pacific war. For some reason, I just really get a kick out of these old structures. The echo inside the tunnel was stunning.

More later. Internet is extremely slow here at the Quality Inn in Fort Bragg. Heading to the redwoods now!!!

SCOUT HEADS TO CHINATOWN

2006-10-09T01:44:00.000-05:00

We ate at John's Grill tonight, after we witnessed and filmed the Blue Angels performing over the Bay as we drove in over the bridge slowly in a traffic jam. Those Blue Angels sure can fly some planes!!! Anyway, we ended up in Chinatown after dinner (which basically means that we walked up a 25% grade for about 5 blocks and finally made it to Chinatown. (sorry if the photo doesn't appear --- I'm trying to figure it out).

We tried to find a Chinese outfit for Mitch, my nephew, but had no luck ... so, we ambled on back towards our hotel (The Hotel Union Square). We stopped at an Irish tavern that proved to remind us of nothing unique, so we high-tailed it back to our cozy room, where we reside right now .... I think Wendy has passed on to slumber. Tomorrow, there may be some bike rental ...

Sorry ... this is boring. Tomorrow should contain more color ...

RENO 411 -- Our Bartender

2006-10-08T10:32:00.000-05:00

This is Tony. He was embarrassed because they didn't have fresh coffee at 8:30PM. But, after this, we did have fresh coffee. Tony reminded me of Gene Wilder and one of the many stars of the Hollywood Squares.

Trek across Utah & Nevada: Bonneville, B-Rent, Bella's Brunch & .... Converse

2006-10-08T02:07:00.001-05:00

Hugh Hefner.... Eat Your Heart Out!

2006-10-08T01:59:00.000-05:00

DAY 3: A Ridiculously Longwinded Scout Addendum

2006-10-07T00:43:00.000-05:00

After leaving Loveland, escorted south by this beats dude, we zipped through Longmont for a final hang with Brian, our new best pal. I can't really describe him, except to say that I think I've known him for, oh, I don't know.... probably a million years or more, give or take a few. We did not snag a photograph with Brian, which I regret, but suffice to say, he's deep in our tribe. He takes the life experiment to a new and very intelligent level with no drama -- just an easy, confident smile. Many present and projected political discussions were had in record time with ease. He and Amy will visit us on the prairie before he retreats to Dallas for the winter. We'll post a photograph from that table. Meanwhile, he reminds me of Rutger Howard in Blade Runner. Nick -- thanks for insisting that we meet him.

We arrived at Gene & Michelle's house in Boulder about 5:15 for dinner and an overnight, after which they graciously gifted us their very comfortable bed. The moment we entered their house, we had known them all our lives (this was a theme for the Colorado Experience) and storytelling ensued. Gene is my beloved editor (www.mentalcontagion.com) who brought his entire family to the S&N wedding because they were "in the neighborhood" around August 13th 2005 -- meaning, we met in person for the first time for about 35 seconds. This dinner would prove to be a more auspicious and focused time spent in their company. We were joined by Dean Pajevic (awesome poet, also found on Mental Contagion), his wife Julie (a reporter for the local paper and a delightful force of nature) and daughter Melena (I hope I spelled her name correctly!) who also live in Boulder -- bon chance! Gene & Michelle served up a delicious vegetarian gumbo w/ sweet potato fries, good wine and ridiculously good company. The party then moved to the backyard whereupon a fire was made and romped around. Here are their deleriously delicious children....

Emma

.... and Cooper

(we apologize for not having a shot of Melena)

And here are the grown ups (minus Julie, who had to take a very-over-spent Melena home to bed) playing with a 60 second exposure. Check out how the Lumix handles the night sky. Impressive.

And let's not forget Buster, the Bun-Bun....

.... who was a perfect gentleman all night and all morning. Everyone agreed he took a special shine to me (twinkle!) having a series of manic thumping moments when I came near him .... probably because I was menstruating.

Emma knocked on the bedroom door early and I joined the family for breakfast. We all ate cereal and quietly went about our morning together. Gene even put a couple multi-vitamins on a plate for Brent & I. After Cooper went off to school, Gene piled us into his Toyota Prius hybrid (tooootally futuristic keyless car w/ a screen that previews the driveway when you back up) for a short but sweet hike on a trailhead that begins at the National Center for Atmospheric Research, a landmark I. M. Pei-designed building on a mesa overlooking town. We Midwest-Plainers were feeling the altitude, but the scenery was worth the dizziness.

And just for the record, here is the tiny, device (barely visible atop the building) responsible for predicting the weather in St. Paul, MN. At least, this is Gene's claim. You can take it up with him, if you have misgivings. (This makes me laugh my ass off.... for some reason).

We were on the road by 10:30 leaving Michelle and Emma (who had a fever) in our wake.

It was hard to leave. I want these guys as neighbors. I mean.... c'mon! I want YOU ALL as neighbors. But that's a different conversation that will absolutely have to happen in the coming years. Just keep thinking..... COMPOUND.... or COMMUNE, whichever feels more cozy in the grey matter and the what-matters matter.

So... on the road to Salt Lake City....

.... and then we stopped at "Love's Truck Stop" for gas & water & stuff where, at the counter, I misremembered the total, passing a penny to the clerk, thinking we didn't need three pennies. She looked at it laying in her hand and queried, "...what is this for?" to which I responded.... "Oh, isn't the total $8.76?" She replied, "No, it's $8.73..." and then Brent turned to me and said, "Hey, Wendy! This is MY transaction!" in a moment of spontaneous assertiveness. I think she thought he was mad at me, for real, so she just forgave us the 2 cents after saying..."Well now.... well.... " and looking at me with concern, hoping that her donation would spare me a beating in the car.... only to return to THIS....parked next to us. AAAARRRRRGGGG!!!!

Later, there was this: Scout "Can you say 'oral fixation'? Navigator "With my mouth full?" Also, the realization that I have EIGHT pairs of glasses in my possession for this trip (and have apparently contracted an eye infection in the last 24 hours, probably due to the prior statement in punishment), all of which I am using in series. I won't explain... I've done enough for one night. Still.... still.... there is more.

Before I'm done, I'll say that Salt Lake City is beyond BIZARRE and we can't get out of here fast enough. I should have taken photographs of our perilous decent down the mountain to the city in a freaking deluge of hell-cat rain. We are lucky to have survived, and I'm really not kidding. And then, after driving around for an hour within the city limits, we entered a bar for a much needed cocktail and a looksee at the city map, only to find that we have to pay a $5 club membership fee at the bar to order a watered down drink (Jameson served from a bar gun!?!?) and still more meandering (at the direction of our stupid bartender) to check out seedy hotels down the 400th Street, followed by the Ruby River Steak House, an out-of-desperation-decision providing an educational discussion with a couple Hispanic dudes outside the restaurant (who needed a light) in town from California who validated our weirded-out vibe about SLC and then a semi-lame dinner (with an all-too-perky Kristin-server who granted us the phone number of a hotel across the street) and finally.... jezuz.... FINALLY.... a room.... A BELOVED ROOM AT ANY PRICE.... in a town where all the rooms are filled. Here's what we get for $119 in Salt Lake City.

Sleep well, babies. Sleep well. We're sure gonna! (sheesh)

HONEYMOON TRIP - DAY 3

2006-10-06T23:18:00.000-05:00

We had a perfect time visiting Bob & Ginny Crawford in Loveland, Colorado. Bob & Ginny are Wendy's outlaw aunt & uncle, meaning, Harry's mom's sister & 2nd husband. They lived in Fargo, SD for many years, but have recently moved out to Colorado to be closer to their kids; Nick & Eric (son, Tyler) are in a 25 mile radius and Ted & family are in California (a shorter flight).

A great dinner with Eric and Nick's friend, Brian, was served, and then hours of open and inspiring conversation kept us up late until we all turned in. For me, one highlight was Bob gratiously sharing his experiences as a Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol team member (Ranger) in Vietnam (1966-1967). It was the first time I was able to hear of experiences like his first hand, and for that I am grateful to him.

The next morning, after some blueberry pancakes, bacon, and orange juice, Wendy and Ginny went for a walk through a local sculpture garden while Bob & I travelled around the world using Google Earth. We started with the World's largest wooden blimp hanger in Tellamook, Oregon (his hometown), then onto Pleiku, Vietnam, our home in Cannon Falls, and finally Bob's birthplace, Wales, UK. I LOVE GOOGLE EARTH!

So, we left well-fed, well-rested, and ready for the next adventure. Thanks, Bob & Ginny, Eric, and Brian!!!!!!

HONEYMOON TRIP - DAY 2 (HARLEM WEST)

2006-10-04T10:02:00.000-05:00

Christ in the City. Who knew?! Sinners welcome. Wendy and I haven't been sinning since we got married last year, but anyway ... I doubt that this church has its own McDonald's like some of those evangelical mega-churches. Maybe some Gumbo or catfish in the basement on Sundays, though.

Then there was the Black Rodeo Cowboy Walk of Fame. This is definitely not on the "Things to See in Denver" brochure that folks pick up at the airport. Scout & Navigator off the beaten path again! Today, we head to Boulder after re-packing the car for maximized comfort. See you there!

HONEYMOON TRIP - DAY 1 & MORNING 2

2006-10-03T12:45:00.000-05:00

Denver in 14 hours. Along the way, we had the opportunity in Iowa for a side trip down "Corporate Woods Drive" ... we chose to stay on course, mainly because "Corporate Woods Drive" conjured images of "Mall of America Nature Preserve" or "Henry David Thoreau's Redwood Logging Company"

Anyway ... moving on. Wendy's favorite moment happened while listening to a country station (seems that Nebraska has two kinds of radio stations: Country and Western). A male singer was honking out some deep and unique lyrics, like "I got a picture of you in my truck" and "I love you like red on a rose" to which I asked, "Wendy, did I just hear him sing 'I love you like bread on a roll'?!?!?!?"

9:30PM Mountain Time: Landed safely in Denver at Warwick and Lisa's home for some cornbread, conversation, beans, collard greens, martinis, and finally ... wait for it ... laptops and wireless internet in our super-cozy guest room (complete with peppermint taffy on the pillows!).

Breakfast downtown Denver. Wendy walks out full of an egg plate named "The Peasant" (while I chose the Royal Blue Plate Special). Next, it's off to scout & navigate around Denver with Warwick before happy hour! Stay tuned!

Aunt & Uncle of the Navigator on their 50th!!!

2006-10-02T00:48:00.000-05:00

This is the Navigator's beloved Aunt & Uncle John & Carolyn on their 50th wedding anniversary today. 5 great children, many amazing grandchildren. Down-to-earth and non-Republican (whoops, waxed political for a second...sorry!). I admire them so much, and it was our pleasure to attend this amazing event at the Cherokee Sirloin Room in West St. Paul today. Tonight (Monday morning) we leave on our crazy honeymoon that we've been awaiting so patiently. But, the waiting is good, because our marriage has been so GOOD and so wonderful. We wanted to leave earlier, but we could never have passed up this anniversary party of Uncle John and Aunt Carolyn --- they are inspirational. 50 years!!! there's so much else to say, but we love this family. John & Carolyn and their offspring are a very large part of it. Also great to see all my cousins and all my aunts and uncles there to acknowledge this milestone. Families need to stay connected like this, even within a world like ours where connections can be so diverse.

Anyway, what a great way to kick off our honeymoon -- after the 50th anniversary of a couple that we love so much!

Here we go!

check in for more ...

PRODUCER of The Rock

2006-09-23T16:30:00.000-05:00

Here he is on a Saturday almost afternoon, heading off to work. There will be more of this before we leave for the western slopes, but until then, he delivers his amazing moustache (and skills) to Pachyderm Studio -- shepherding the lads on their way to stardom. This week -- White Light Riot. Next week, The Bad Plus for studio set up.

Just remember, children -- presentation is everything.

KITTY RETURNS FOR AN EVENING

2006-09-20T00:58:00.000-05:00

Kitty came home with Wendy. They had dinner. I got home from work and we sat at the table with our laptops listening to the Unicorns. I took this picture eventually. I was psyched! Now, I'm drinking a Miller. Kitty's finishing up her collage project for an art class. Gettin' 'er done.

Basically, I came here to do two things tonight: drink some Millers, hang out with Kitty, search some of the internets, eat some tuna melt, and go to sleep ... looks like the Millers, tuna melt, Kitty, and the internets are done ... guess it's time for bed (double bed).

Three Weeks of Miller Time?!?!? Hell Yes!

2006-09-19T01:43:00.000-05:00

And just who wouldn't want to go on a honeymoon trip with this Total Party Animal?!?!?! (Gotta love the new intel Macbooks -- in this case, photo taken by Kitty's computer ... and I SO miss college Kitty!).

Might as well post one of Fatguy, since we'll be seeing him out there on the coast of Oregon! Here's to ya, Fatguy (first year that I missed your B-day in quite a while --- happy belated!). We'll race you to the coast. If you get there first, draw a line ... if we get there first, we'll erase it!

RAMPING UP

2006-09-18T22:05:00.000-05:00

No self-respecting, observant traveler sets out on an adventure without proper archiving tools. Meet the Lumix. An awesome little camera which The Stork dropped down our chimney, replete with a big phat memory card. We can make movies with it, of course, and are figuring out (soon) how to post them on the blog. (Any suggestions are welcomed.) In any case, this camera came highly recommended, sporting a Leica (slightly wide-angled capacity) lens and multitudinous settings including one called Starry Sky which opens the lens for a maximum of 15 seconds. Nice! Our nemesis will be a lack of cyber cafes along the way, in which case, we'll load things up after returning home. It is the Wild Wild West, after all. Or, so I hear.

Meanwhile, Brent, re-embracing Navigator status, continues plotting our course with the assistance of the mesmerizing and addictive Google Earth. Shy and retiring lo-fi hotel owners who escape modern website ways and means cannot escape the intrusive satellite fotos which enable us to spy upon their locales. Bingo! We'll see how it all pans out.

Ahh... The Dude has returned home from a long day in the studio. I'll have to check in with him before I head to bed... work tomorrow.

OUT WEST : S&N Travel Journal #1

2006-09-08T23:50:00.000-05:00

It all starts with some money. Here's Brent's bacon, laid out on the table, courtesy latest recording session... check the "thumbs up" envelope it was delivered in. Looks like a drug deal and we're still trying to figure out why cash and not check . But, nevermind. Meanwhile, my contribution is in a checking account, which isn't as photogenic as cash tonight, but suffice to say, it's there and ready to go. At any rate... we leave town on October 3 or 4, due west... the long anticipated Post First Year Anniversary Honeymoon and Scout Landmark Birthday Adventure. A long title, albeit fitting. Prior to departure, we will have paid formidable taxes for 2005 (eeccchhh), pre-paid propane, procured a dogsitter (the lovely Miss Maureen Dog-Lover Donohue) who has rapaciously offered her services for the length of our journey, and will pile into the Golf (Turbo Diesel, 50mpg) after long deliberations regarding which chariot to assign; comfort or top notch gas mileage. We decided on the latter and are hoping that the upcoming elections, which have already brought gas prices down, will be on our side. Imagine... the current administration working in our favor for once in all these years -- for selfish reasons, true, but we'll take anything we can get from those elitist, economy raping bastards. NOTE: You should ALL pile into a car before November 4, just to get something out of it all.

We're Googling to decide on a car rack to which we'll attach a carrier, and begin (loosely, Scout version -- Navigator notwithstanding) to plot our destinations. We want all loose, but there are pals to visit along the way, and we can't be cavalier in regard to their schedules for accomodating our arrival. They will be living real lives while we take a holiday. It looks like this so far: Boulder, Denver, the Grand Canyon, the Hoover Dam, drive-thrus on Vegas and LA and then, up the coastal highway to SanFran where we'll spend some time. After that, the wine country, cliffs and redwood forests and on to Oregon. Seattle will be our final party stop before heading home across the top of the country. Let's hope the money lasts. Otherwise, you'll hear from us deep in the delicious grease of some lo-fi diner kitchen in the middle of NoWheresVille, working hard to get home. Or... maybe not.... if more of this happens....

Maria Helen Hoffman (Navigator's 1st Niece)

2006-04-10T18:38:00.000-05:00

Born beautifully (officially) at 01:02:03AM on 04/05/06!!!

Here's Grandma Helen and big brother Mitchell.

Navigator Misses Button

2006-03-09T14:45:00.000-06:00

"Zeke" Lundell, Nagel, and Me ...uh ... ROCKIN"!!!

2006-01-22T03:06:00.000-06:00

Just had to post a photo of me with two dear buddies .... ROCKIN"! ... at the wedding times area. (Sorry I handed you that empty bottle of Jameson, Nagel ...)

The Dude Finds the Dude's Shades!!!!

2006-01-21T22:50:00.000-06:00

At Last, the search is over. Wendy found these and ordered them from a British vintage eyewear site. A nearly two year search is over, and the dude abides.

Sacred Heart

2006-01-16T19:51:00.000-06:00

This past week, I got to work in Duluth, Mn with a band called "No Wait Wait" at Sacred Heart Recording Studio. The church was built in 1884, and in the photo you can see the original pipe organ in the background (we didn't have time to use it, though it's fully-functioning). The echo and ambience in the place was religious. The control room for the studio was located off to the side in what used to be the "Crying Room" - a room to take your crying baby to during a mass. Duluth is a very interesting town. Loved it. I'll go back some day.

The High Life (w/ cheese, olives, wine, and pears)

2006-01-16T19:43:00.000-06:00

The Scout and I rented a $250 room (!!!!) at the Nicollet Island Inn for New Year's Eve (which had comfor-rest sleep number king-size bed, but no terry-cloth robes dammit) within walking distance of Kikugawa sushi restaurant, where we met Mark Dalton to discuss future entrepeneurial (I don't care if i spelled that wrong - I have not a bit of French in me) endeavors regarding fish. Then the three of us were able to walk from Japanese to Polish (Nye's Polanaise Room) to ring in the New Year (where Mark lost a leg-wrestling challenge to some woman stranger). Anyway .... it was the retreat we needed. Most fun New Year's ever, I think. And also a precursor to the honeymoon that we haven't taken yet ..... Mmmmmmmm.

Fatguy Gives Romeo the Business

2006-01-16T19:37:00.000-06:00

That's Mark "Martha James" Dalton next to Romeo and Fatguy. Fatguy seems to be pulling one of those rabbit ear type jokes on Romeo --- good one. Christmas-times were fun (More current posting to follow).

Gilligan (I mean Fatguy) & the Skipper!

2006-01-07T01:03:00.000-06:00

Gosh, Li'l Buddy ... this must have been around 1986 or 1987. Fatguy meets the Skipper at the Minneapolis airport. Why not?!?!!

(Figured I'd stay on the 80's television icons theme for a spell). Nice work, Fatguy!

The BARON & me

2006-01-05T14:44:00.000-06:00

I wasn't the biggest fan of All-Star Wrestling as a kid. The concept of it all became quite a bit more entertaining for me later as I learned more about its colorful history. My favorite wrestler was definitely Baron von Raschke ("The Claw"). I received this autographed photo from the Scout for Christmas. I'd have to put it up there with one of the best gifts ever. The Reverend Boyce got one, too. Wish I would have had my camera out when he opened it - biggest smile I'd ever seen on his face - then, he wisely commented, "He signed my name with the same hand that administered the CLAW!!!"

Post Holiday Re-Cap

2006-01-05T00:18:00.000-06:00

Sorry we've been so absent. We'll try to do better in 2006.

I'm here to prove we did indeed celebrate a lovely pagan version of the Jebus Bday. The Dude abided, after all, had some good and oft important things to say and died an historically significant death. I honor him and set him aside other luminaries, including Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Crazy Horse, Mother Theresa and .... yeah .... okay .... Rilke. I'm including fotos of more present-tense luminaries who are alive and appeared to be enjoying themselves at our table and hearth. We rocked the elk tenderloin with a plum sauce, roasted vegetables, pomegranate & greens, garlic mashed potatoes, ginger bread, apple pie, good wine and rousing conversation.

How To Build a Snowman

2005-12-16T13:35:00.000-06:00

Holiday Tree Gettin'

2005-12-12T21:10:00.000-06:00

Here's Brent in the woods gettin' ready to take a skinny little tree down.

Here's Brent on the stoop gettin' ready to cut a skinny little tree down to size.

Here's Brent in the house gettin' ready to put a skinny little tree down in a stand.
We're gettin' ready.

Germs & Giblets

2005-12-01T11:26:00.000-06:00

We made the trek to Madtown, USA for the Turkey Fest where germs got the better of our heads & lungs but not our party hearts. We consumed enough ibuprofen & alcohol to keep us on our feet, more or less. A hi-fi holiday meal was procured from a lo-fi kitchen in Hannah's little apartment while B played with his computer and the girls watched DVDs. The Reverend joined us for the feast and orated the holiday toast with typical panache... it went like this... "Here!". Enough said.

The remaining days were filled with a few short walks, a snowfall & very cold winds, more DVDs, the arrival of The Master Gastler on the rolling legs of the Greydog, a warming trend, a delightful dinner at a Nepalese restaurant and around it all, piles and piles of Puff's Aloe tissues.

Please post your holiday anecdotes. We love you all, of course.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2005-11-20T22:20:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving is bearing down. I found this drawing in stylish green ink by none other than Buggy in the late 80's. As seen, he titled it "Cuckoo Turkey Bird" (with an underscoring of STUD PUPPIES/ MEAT AND DOUGHNUTS/YUM-YUM). I know this 'blog has suddenly become all things Buggy, but I ain't lying when I say that it just happens in the wild. He's got a deal happening (obviously). One might be starting to think that I got some kinda thing for Buggy and maybe I should come clean with it, but truly ... it happens right here in the wild. We were looking through Kitty's High School art portfolio today and I said, "Should I go get my High School art portfolio, too?" So, I did. But the first thing I found was a sketch tablet that had become (at some point) a community sketch tablet. Suddenly I saw the Buggy contribution. There's no way that he remembers it. I like it. A lot. Stud Puppies? Meat and doughnuts? You decide ...

My Beloved Buggy (circa 1988)

2005-11-17T22:38:00.000-06:00

Well, "MAN CAMP" became:

"Bob gets smoked in the shoulder by a 70 lb, 6 foot long, treated, 4X6 timber pummeling down upon him like a battering ram launched by his understudy Brent". It was bad, but he'll be okay. I don't feel too bad, but 6" to the left and I may have taken out my poor Bob's head ..... lesson 102 in how dangerous construction can be if you stop caring simply because of an animosity towards things that frickin' weigh a lot .... things that make you angry (namely 70 lb. pieces of lumber that must be moved). I will report on how my Best Man feels tomorrow. It was a huge blow -- probably the biggest non-love-oriented blow I have given to a loved-one in my life. "Do not turn your back to Brent when he has a large timber in hand that he's at odds with and wishes to throw it into the hole" ... but there he was, right in the crosshairs. Our Buggy ... taking one for the team.

Puzzle Piece #1

2005-11-16T20:25:00.000-06:00

Note: the ancient keyboard. Note: the comely sign. Note: The Reverend before he had actual papers. Now, wait for it. (clue: funerals & give-aways .... bonus point: 10/16 is the Scout birthday day ?!?)

Skiddin' in the Hole

2005-11-16T09:26:00.000-06:00

Well, there are days.... and then, there are days. This was not a good day. But there was good news. No one got hurt, the skidloader wasn't damaged, the crane hired to pull it out was relatively cheap and, most importantly, the freshly poured concrete basement wall didn't cave in. Post crane hoist, I drove over to the Edgewater to meet the dudes for some plates of roast beef & mashed potatoes and a few cocktails to calm the nerves. Deer hunters were filing in while we ate, giving our table the nod and loading up at the bar with a few stories to tell in brief. For me, it was a night of sitting in a forest of big guys with big hearts and bigger plans.

Foot Smokin'

2005-11-14T21:43:00.000-06:00

This is a photograph that came in last week which took place in the wee hours of the wedding bash when the die-hards were still gathered around the bonfire. I had heard rumors about this moment, but this is the photo proof positive that the Rev, in lieu of having his feet anointed with oil post nuptials (as Jeebus would have), instead smoked a cig from the foot of the only female groomsman on the altar. Selah!

Buggy & John: Chief Counselors at "Man Camp"

2005-11-09T08:55:00.000-06:00

I got this "postcard" from Brent late last night, sent via a newsgroup.....

While you were all going over the mayoral races, I was shooting holes in a 50 gallon drum with my Springfield WWI rifle and also putting a hole in the middle of a Copenhagen snuff can at 60 yards with a 12-gauge (the hunter- dudes were impressed). Then I toured the Ahlman's gun shop in Morristown (currently displaying 3,000 guns!). The highlight of that tour had to be the greasy early-thirties type dude with a Renaissance Festival t-shirt on holding forth on WWII Japanese sniper rifles (how he took his to the range and found it to be deadly accurate, adding: "Now I know what our Marines were going through"). Then, I went to WallMart where my buddy Bob bought a camouflauge backpack and a bucksnort. Oh, and I also had lunch at Arby's. Wow, what a day ... hunting season in Cannon Falls!

I also hear that he's continuing work on the Rapture Accelerator and has the basement poured on a 20x40 house addition he's building with these guys somewhere in the Sogun Valley. This is all the news I have for now from Navigator who is spending these fall months in "Man Camp". Sounds like he's having fun!

Still Life W/ Mattress and Freaks

2005-10-20T16:04:00.000-05:00

MADISON SEPTEMBER 1989 (Freak Photo-Ops from Fatguy)

FATGUY

THE yet-to-be REVEREND BOYCE

BUGGY FALES

NAVIGATOR

A huge post, but well worth it. These were taken before an Erosion Theme Park event in the attic of some crazy college crash-house. Fatguy reminded me that there was a laser show, as well. Most of the clothing belonged to Boyce's uncle (who's name Boyce will share with us in the comments). A photo of Dave Hollister may be posted as well. He ain't got the internets, though ...

Notice the beautiful mattress w/ duct tape as back-drop. Milk crate prop is nice, as well. At first, I thought ol' Buggy had combination slacks/jeans ... but then realized that he's merely wearing shorts over jeans with blown-out knees. A great look, nonetheless ... Also digging fatguy's high-tops!

My Sweet-Stuff's Birthday (October 16th)

2005-10-17T22:13:00.000-05:00

Here, we see the Scout holding two of her gifts from Lynn and Scott. One is a dainty little red vase, the other is a Kinder Egg. Our Scout was quite happy -- so happy that she brought an adult beverage to bed with her at 3:45am (While I passed out beside her). That night, Lynn had a dream that Kitty removed a scary bat that was perched on her hip. The Scout was dreaming about opening birthday presents (one of them being a cast-iron tea pot). Scott and I lit the bonfire with gasoline (the first time Scott had done that). I poured the gas on the wood, let it soak for a bit, and made a trail of gasoline about twenty feet from the woodpile. Scott lit it with a lighter and we were in business. Later, we had B-day brownies ...

SO, join in the comments for Happy birthday wishes to the Scout Wendy!!!!

Kitty: The Uncrowned Homecoming Queen

2005-10-08T11:54:00.000-05:00

Here she is.... copping attitude prior to the coronation festivities.... putting her game face on, dig? This is a role no one, not even Kitty, ever thought she'd be studying for. But, I think she was "getting it" by utilizing her inherent method acting skills. She also had her nails professionally manicured days before and nevermind that she broke one of them, but so go the ways of our hapless art baby. Only she could survive a nail break in the face of such tension.

The coronation ceremony was action packed with lots of ramp up entertainment including the rousing marching band numbers and a fellow classmate singing the entire version of "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof. (I'm still trying to figure out how that song related to the event, but .... whatever.) She didn't win the title but (willfully if a bit begrudgingly) upheld her duties as a member of the court throughout an exhausting week of Homecoming activities on top of homework, midterms and her work & party schedules. She, by the way, was the one who rendered the BLACK letters in the HOMECOMING banner displayed above the royalty troupe, scoffing quietly about whomever drew the substandard RED letters. Needless to say, Kitty has other talents beyond her beauty, brains and ability to lose with style. Below, a final photograph of she and her escort Travis (T-Ravis or Earnest T, as I've lately referred to him) who is known for sporting the Tshirt around town he made for himself with LESBIAN emblazoned across it. As they were introducing the couples during their ceremonius walk towards the stage, the MC quoted Earnest T-Ravis as saying his future plans included revolution.

The Rapture Accelerator (Stage 1)

2005-10-08T11:26:00.000-05:00

Here's a current update on the progress of the Rature Accelerator. Two days into it at Cannon River Machine (AKA Buggy's Shop) -- Buggy built the frame, poured the material and ran the vacuum lines. I did some base building and screen adhesion. Since many predict the rapture to happen sometime between 2007 and 2012, we've been putting in extra hours to "Get 'Er Done" in hopes that we can have those folks flying out of here by the Summer of 2006.

Stay tuned!

Witchcraft (or something) Captured on Film!

2005-10-02T14:04:00.000-05:00

HELLO!!???

From the beginning, I have warned Wendy that if she didn't stop goofing with her powers they would sooner or later be caught on film. In this particular moment (it usually happens so fast that it's nearly invisible to the naked eye), Wendy obviously resized herself to a wee 3'8". Incredible. I've seen her do the opposite when she can't reach something in the kitchen - I used to just blink, rub my eyes, shake my head, and splash cold water on my face when I saw it happen. Now, folks will know I'm not insane - there's no way that this shot is photoshopped.

Wendy's powers have been revealed. Luckily, I knew of them before I chose to marry her (unlike Dick Sargent in Bewitched!).

Romeo and The Mushroom

2005-09-17T05:09:00.000-05:00

Romeo and The Mushroom
Posted by: wendylewis.

Huh? What's this?

Just a huge, round fungus posing as comic relief while we stumble along dark and dappled forest trails. Damn! Mommy Nature has a weird sense of humor.

Rumsfeld Greets Evil! What a Mover and Shaker!

2005-09-15T22:11:00.000-05:00

I'm only posting this to continue the thread we have begun that will surely birth the American Party --- the 3rd party that may take America over the edge to (you guessed it) --- Human Responsibility! Wha-Hoooooooo! Have at it ...

The Case of the Missing Stone

2005-09-14T15:12:00.000-05:00

The Case of the Missing Stone
Posted by: wendylewis.

Part I
The Guilty & Horrified: Scout
The Grieving and Forgiving: Lynn
The Search Party: Various casts members over many days since 8/13/05

Part II
The Post: Navigator

Part III
The Hero: North Star Gone Lone Star

Part IV
The Return: NSGLS & Lynn

Can We Give the Titleist An Award?

2005-09-10T18:18:00.000-05:00

Can We Give the Titleist An Award?
Posted by: wendylewis.

Don't need to say much about this. It simply ROCKS!!!!

GRASSROOTS DONATIONS

2005-09-09T13:14:00.000-05:00

Please pass this address around your mail groups. The grassroots efforts will continue far beyond the federal honeymoon relief & clean-up period. Spend some time on the site. Much information here. http://katrina.mayfirst.org/

Here's one list I gleaned from that site.

Below are some small, grassroots and New Orleans-based resources, organizations and institutions that will need your support in the coming months.

Social Justice:
www.jjpl.org
www.iftheycanlearn.org
www.nolaps.org
www.thepeoplesinstitute.org
www.criticalresistance.org/index.php?name=crno_home

Cultural Resources:
www.backstreetculturalmuseum.com
www.ashecac.org
http://198.66.50.128/gallery/
www.nolahumanrights.org
http://www.freewebs.com/ironrail/
http://www.girlgangproductions.com/

Current Info and Resources:
http://neworleans.craigslist.org/about/help/katrina_cl.html