COMMENTS AFTER OBSERVING A THIN SLICE OF HEAVEN
So, in late June, my wife and I headed off to visit children, grandchildren and old friends in Tulsa, Chicago, North Carolina and Delaware (how's that for hopscotching the country?). In Tulsa, besides drinking wine and sampling local cuisine, we visited a retirement community where we came face to face with the reality of how difficult it would be to downsize 50 years of accumulated "stuff" housed in nearly 4000 square feet to a cute little 1200 square foot number. What shall we purge, what shall we purge? Our decision was: let's talk about that some other time---we have to get on the road. Off to Chicago.
We had a really great time in Tulsa as we did with everyone we visited along the way and we also, as a result of making the trip, had many opportunities to see others of our fellow citizens at work and at play. For example, in the windy city and it's environs, I was introduced to a driving technique which I like to call "The Chicago Merge". This involves another motorist pulling into your lane in such a way that if either auto had had one more coat of paint, a collision would have been inevitable. I have previously only observed this sort of behavior in the chaotic melee that passes for a traffic circle around the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, where the "civilized" French approach dictates that the car whose bumper is 1/8th of an inch in front of yours is assumed to have the right of way, and the horn is the most overworked accessory on the car.
Meanwhile, back to the Chicago story. While there, we stayed at a Hampton Inn which, it turns out, is popular among the Six Flags crowd. We were interested in the attire opted for by this bunch when they came to the lobby for the well known and delicious Hampton Inn free breakfast. Now, you expect recently-roused-from-sleep children to be in their "PJs" at 9AM , but we were caught off guard by their parents' garb which often featured pajama bottoms, stretched out T-shirts and FUZZY SLIPPERS! What a sight! And in some cases it was made even better when worn by women with pastel hair coloring, including but not limited to pink, lavender and chartreuse. A style statement that seems to be currently in vogue among mid-40s to mid-50s Chicago gals. Another highlight at one of our breakfast sessions was the blurb on a local TV morning show about a fundraiser for some cause or other being held at the Friar's Club and featuring several bands. One of these was in the studio and, in fact, performed. It was a trio consisting of an electric mandolin (which, until that minute, I had no idea existed), bongo drums and, in lieu of a vocalist, a short fat guy in lederhosen and wearing a Tyrolean hat and working out with a hula hoop! This group's name is----wait for it---"MEXICAN WEREWOLF"---not that there's anything wrong with that (no offense meant to Mexicans or Werewolves), but I just wonder what it means and what they were smoking and/or drinking when they chose it.
We left Chicago in the rear view mirror and headed for North Carolina. Enroute, we stopped in Batesville, Indiana where, after checking in to our hotel, we saw a road sign pointing toward a town called "Oldenburg". Being old Germany hands, we were intrigued by the name and, so, went exploring. It turns out that Oldenburg which, truth be told, has a very Bavarian look about it, is home to the annual "Freudenfest" where, according to the brochure, "Everyone is German for the Weekend". So we were excited to try out this new (to us) place and stopped in at the town's "Brau Haus" where we were, in traditional German style, immediately and pleasantly greeted. But then, in apparent Indiana tradition, we were completely ignored for 20 minutes, so we left and moved on to an establishment billing itself as a "German Pub" so called in all likelihood because I doubt that anyone in town can spell "Gasthaus" or, indeed, knows what they are. I make this seemingly harsh judgement because while it is true that when we entered the "pub" and were greeted and served in the spirit of "gemutlichkeit", when I, intending to honor what I thought was the sought after flavor of the town, thanked them in German, I got nothing but blank stares. So, I asked if anyone in the place spoke German and was told that the only person in town who spoke German was the high school German teacher and he had, since, died. So, if you want to practice your German in Oldenburg or even thank them "auf deutsch" for a good time at the "fest", you're just out of luck. They did serve Warsteiner beer, however, so they can be forgiven anything.
We pressed on to North Carolina where we watch lots of Rugby matches and marveled at the athletic prowess and toughness of the people, both men and women, who indulge in that sport. It is not for the faint of heart nor the out of shape. Where American football guys are worried about how fast a player can run "The Forty" (yards that is) on a given snap of the ball, Rugby plays seem never to stop until everyone on the team has run at least 100 yards and only the old guys seem to get tired. The local rugby players were also quick to point out that since they don't wear football style helmets, tacklers do not lead with their heads and thus contact is, actually less violent than is often experienced in football. After returning from the matches, we cooled off and ate a lot of what our grand children call "Naughty Food"and it was wonderful!
Next,we headed to Lewes Delaware for the July 4th celebration in anticipation of what we had been told would be great fireworks displays. Unfortunately, the first sign we saw upon entering the town where our friends live, informed us that, starting this year, the town has outlawed fireworks of any kind because of the danger to the public. Another case, it seems, of government saving you from yourself. But, then, it is Joe Biden's home state so a certain amount of liberal mothering is to be expected. We, ultimately, did get to see fireworks anyway though. These came on the 5th of July in the form of photos transmitted in a text message from the grand children we had just visited in Chicago showing us how they spent their 4th, and it seemed to be a lot more explosive than ours. Also while visiting in Delaware, our hostess cooked bacon (an all time favorite of mine) for breakfast one morning. While drinking my coffee, I had a chance to read the label on the bacon package. It was full of assurances to the consumer that the bacon contained no "Genetically Modified Organisms" and "No Preservatives" as well as some of the other BS that you see on all politically correct food packaging these days. It did, however contain one notification that I had never seen before. This was a silhouette of a pig with the words: "Humanely Raised". I took this to mean that they fed the pig organically grown and gluten free food right up until the time they slit it's throat (with all love, I'm sure). Am I the only one who sees the irony here? But, no matter---the bacon came out of the oven crisp and delicious and I, for one, felt that we at the breakfast bar were being treated very humanely. Another highlight in Lewes was a visit to "On The Rocks", a Bar and Grill at the ferry terminal. This place serves the best hotdogs on the East Coast and was, in fact, the winner of the first leg of our "Great American Hotdog Tour" which was held right after I retired from being a merchant of death back in 2008.
Alas, the day after that visit, it was time to head for home. But not before a final stop in downtown Lewes for coffee with yet another set of friends who made my day by giving me a can of SPAM, which I love, to commemorate two birthdays---my 76th and SPAM's 80th. Then, as we bid farewell to the last of the folks we had traveled all that way to see, we really did reflect on what a wonderful trip it had been and how much we had enjoyed seeing everyone. Lots of talking, laughing and reminiscing ----and, after all, that was the whole point of the exercise in the first place. Let's do it again sometime----Cheers.