Yeah, that's exactly what this is. And I'm sorry. But if I wrote one of my classic, throw-reader-daunted-ness-to-the-wind enteries here to bring you (the three of you) up to date (two of which know damn well what happened as you were there) would be pretty worthless. Also it would amount to that novel I've been asked to write. And I think I want some more thought before I write a novel. You know all the classic amenities; a plot, a villian, a conflict, a girl (I especially want that part...yeah good luck) and some kind of conflict resolution. Plus some shenanigans/misadventures. But hell, we're talking about me here so that's a given. In fact I'd better hope that there's something other than those in there.
Anyway, since my last correspondance much has transpired. For instanzizzle(and in no particular order): concerts, camping, sudden realization, a sense of hope, a new class schedual, a KICK ASS concert, rediculous-ness on my part and good old fashion hilarity.
So, as far as the cronological order of said events...well I forgot. You're a big boy, pick up the pieces and move on. But I'll start with the concert (aka "KICK ASS" concert). It was a TMBG show. That's They Might Be Giants for those not cool enough to abbreviate. And that is competing with Alkaline Trio and The Urge for the best show I've ever seen. Wow is the one and only word I can use to describe it. Of course I'm going to use about 209 more words but that's really just an anal retentive thing for you to count you ass. Anyhow, that show was amazing. The two openers were both hilarious and good warm up acts for the main gig. Oh yeah I might throw a mention of the ride down, most of the fun was in the front seat where I was because, despite it being July, Krazy Carrie was icing up the back with her sullen, sallow, icy-ness. (Note to self, getting sick of the 'ness suffix.) But she wasn't all that bad and I felt a lot better after my attempt to break the 'ice'. Which of course means I punched her...not as well recived as could be hoped. So it goes.
Still seeing TMBG, a band that I have loved fiercely for years, I felt like Michael Jackson in a school zone. It was just a hugely elated feeling. Probably somewhere between Spiderman's first spin around New York and Superman's first flight around Metropolis. *I can't help but notice that no good feelings come from the X-Men at all...they're some darks sonsa bitches.* And They played my favorite They song: The End of the Tour. A song that has gotten me through many a rough end of tour transistion.
Well on to the camping. Or rather the night before camping. I was in a really shitty mood and I was having a few fights here and there with the parents and others. Eventually everything got squared away for better or worse, and the arrangements were made. I tried to go to bed as I was planning to set out early, but I lied there and thought about things and people and came to a realization that I don't want to chat about just yet but I hope I can be more forthcomming about in the future. Suffice it to say the next day I was in a much better mood.
All the next day I kept waiting for hell to break loose, I got dressed...no hell to be seen, packed mostly, showered, changed clothes...no broken free hell yet...hmm odd. What is going to do it then? At which point the universe laughed and sent Ross home and BAM!!! all hell DID break loose. Specifically in the form of a strangling, walking stick braking, yelling, screaming, hood smashing in, fight. Not only was Ross home, but mom was AWOL while on assignments from me. Now that sounds assholey I know, but I was (1) In a damned hurry and (2) She had been gone so long and knew that we were out of time and wasn't answering her cell that we had to assume that she was lying dead by the side of the road or something. Thank God she wasn't, but it didn't make me that happy that she had been sitting at the Schells and jacking her jaw. I like the Schells as much as anybody, but I WAS IN A HURRY. Did no one on Earth understand this??? Sadly, no. No they didn't.
When I eventually hit the road with the camper in tow and Mr. Barry at my side (and Ross's truck at my command) it was not a smooth road. The first mistake was that I took I-55 right through the heart of St. Louis during rush hour. With a camper. And shitty visibility. Because of the camper. But luckily I was big enough that I went where I wanted and others looked out for me. This wasn't as much an out and out mistake as it was just a bit of jumpyness on my part. I saw the I-55 exit and knew I needed to be on that road at some point and your butt puckers everytime you pass an intersection when you don't really know the route and you can't easily turn around. So that was a bit of a hair trigger type thing. But the next Donner Party-esq turn of events was somehow getting onto I-270 against my will. How in the hell? Well that's a question for another day. I finally gave a quick call to Dad and he hooked me up with a route to get me where I needed to be. After there it was strictly by the map...yeah right.
One thing happened before I move on to our next detour that isn't so much an inconvience as something totally awesome to see. As me and Mr. Barry were getting along down the trail we noticed but didn't really give much thought to the fact that there weren't any cars on the opposite side of the 4 lane highway. Then all of a sudden as we came down a hill and got right to an overpass we looked up the other side of another hill and saw easily 15 cop cars driving in formation with their lights on. Hmmm, was the general thought. Then we noticed the small beat up old mustang ahead of them. It was being driven by a fat black guy with one hand at 12 and the other out of sight. He was looking over his shoulder at the cops and looked pretty pleased with himself. That's when the lack of cars ahead made sense; the highway had been cleared. Then we obligatorily gave our best wishes to the man passing 20 feet to our left and laughed our asses off over seeing a high speed chase up close and personal. It was pretty sweet.
After that things went smooth pretty smooth until we got to a crazy hillbilly out in the back parts of Missouri. He came running out infront of the car like a mad man, screaming and waving his arms. I thought he was just the most enthuastic hitch hiker ever, but it turned out he was pointing to a road we were supposed to take. Apparently there had been a wreck up ahead and the highway was blocked off. Well I had passed him by this point and pulled up in an old man's driveway and had a little chat with him. He gave me a quick set of instructions to get around the stretch of road that I couldn't pass. Long story short, all in all it took us 20 minutes to go over about 1 and a half miles of highway. Good times. So understandably when we got to the camp site we just wanted things to run smoothly...
Which of course they didn't. We got there. All I was hoping to do was get a site and camp. Not too hard. Nothing about it should tax anyone. Should is a funny word, it pretty much gaurentees that whatever it is, it isn't going to happen. Though it does make it sound kind of hopeful that it will. In this case what should have happened is that we could have camped where I wanted to. What did happen, was that I ran into two 14 year old girls running a campgroud. They gave us a spot (with no electricity) in the middle of nowhere with no directions to the location.
Well, me and my right hand man Mr. Barry drove around looking for the spot. While we were out there we saw a friggin pant load of skanky tent campers camping with electricity. They don't need electricity. If they don't have it at home why should they have it here? Damn filthy hippies. If you know me, you know I'm not taking this crap. We'd heard tell of a campground down the trail. So we ditched the camper like a dealer ditches his snow with the cops at the door, and headed out of there like an Olsen out of rehab.
One good side note on the way: we noticed a surburban that had gone down into a huge ravine. A few yuppies with Jeeps and a wench actually pulled the surburban out before me and Barrett drove back by again. Pretty slick stuff. Anyway. We went to the other campground. It turned out that it was staffed by ADULTS. What a strange thing for a buissness to do. To have professional people working there? Making logical choices and actually taking reservations? Outlandish. That's what it was. Pure and simple. But we got ourselves a spot there. I should say we got ourselves a spot there too. So I found myself in a situation where I'd payed twice. Someone was going to give me my money back. And I knew two 14 year olds with 30 of my dollars. Hmmm, who should get the beating I had building up inside me....
The following is a dialogue between me and little 14 year old girl that looks like Heather Matthews:
- Me(with cold rage): So, are the campsites filling up?
- GTLLHM: Tee hee, my boss propostions me. And yes.
- Me: Well you got one more open; we're leaving. Could I get my money back now.(No question mark on that because it was a statement. A cold vicious statement.)
After that, we got our money back and hauled ass out of their campground. Cutting across campsites with the camper in tow. People were giving me looks. But they were just as likely to get the beating of a lifetime as me looking at me. Luck was with them and I got out of there with out having to kick anyone's ass too hard. Once we got set up (and everyone showed up) there were more shenanigans and misadventures, but nothing too major. And writing it here would just add to this already rediculously long entry. Insufficient? Well, this part is. And there's your minimum daily requirement of truth in advertising. - Scott
