the Great Midwest
December 29, 2008
In the immortal words of Jim Anchower – I know it’s been a long time since I rapped at ya, but shit’s been crazy. I got a new job, I moved back to the state that I used to live in, and my kids have grown to the point that they need me to go places and watch them do shit…so anyway, don’t call it a comeback, I been here for years.
I recently had the pleasure of going to an “apple festival” in
“Sioux Falls, South Dakota” and I think it can safely be said that
one can decline all invitations to both fruit-based festivals and South
Dakota and still die happy.
The only thing I have done recently that was less pleasurable than
attending an apple festival in Sioux Falls was working with a friend at
her booth at a flea market in Iowa. I think it can safely be said that
one can decline all invitations to both flea markets and Iowa and still
Also recently, I started walking towards the hipster-downtown part of Springfield, Missouri in search of food.For some reason I walked into an Irish bar instead. And for some reason the Irish bartender was Korean, which was weird…but she was hot.
I drank frosty cold beers for dinner and made idle chit-chat with the 24 year old girl. She was impressed that I knew she was Korean (she brought it up btw and by impressed I mean that she wanted me to tip her) and she knew nothing about anything that I did for a living.
I finally ran out of money and had to go to the ATM. Then I found myself at a little Italian deli, wondering why everything had to be so damned ethnic.
For some reason the Italian deli was playing the best of Journey - this did not make the nasty burger go down any easier. I finished up and started walking back to my hotel, except somehow I had gotten considerably farther north than I had been before…still confident that I could figure it out, I walked. And walked. And turned. And then walked some more.
I finally admit to myself that I was lost so I pull out the navigation device on my phone and tell it to take me back to the hotel. It got really pissed at me that I couldn’t go much faster than 3 mph and gave me wrong directions out of spite.
So I finally just walked into a Subway sandwich place ordered something I didn’t want and called a cab. While I was telling the cab place where I wanted to go the “samwich artist” snickered. Then she asked me if I knew where I was. Then she asked where I was from, apparently to tell her friends from where really moronic people who call a cab to go 8 blocks originate. I told her I was from Cleveland.
I finally got back to the hotel, watched the Bunny Ranch thing on HBO (what a bunch of weirdos) and fell asleep. I woke up slightly hung over, but otherwise ready to go sit in a uncomfortable chair and listen to some guy talk about actuarially required contributions all day.
So anyway…there you go…a column…kinda…see you next week…maybe…
The West Virginia Surf Report!