Just wanted to drop a quick line to tell our loyal fans (*tries to suppress laughter*) that we're back from our trip. It was a solid trip, absolutely rock solid. The travel was killer though. We drove close to 1,700 miles during the 10 day trip. Wore me the Effingham out (note: Effingham is an inside joke between Cooch and I...if Cooch wants to elaborate further, he's got the green light).
While we were on the road, we planned on chronicling the trip day by day. Unfortunately, neither of us Rhode Scholars brought our laptop with us, and instead, we spent $10 on the Hampton Inn's version of WebTV. Think WebTV at sub-28.8 dial-up connections. And we split the $10 to use this "service" for the day. During the course of our 24 hour limit, we tried putting up a blog on how our trip was going. But to make a long story short, putting up the blog was as reliable as Florida's voting system. We couldn't even get the main page to load, much less put up a stinking blog. So that pretty much soured our experience. Neither of us wanted anything to do with the internet after that. And Hampton Inn didn't even give us the common courtesy of a reach around...
Then one night we went to Kinko's to get map directions and for Cooch to check his porn...I mean his mail. I make some random comment about Bank of America and next thing I know, this neo-conservative sitting in our area starts going into a five minute tirade on how Bank of America is the devil. Dude looked like a homeless person, or a person with extremely bad fashion sense...still trying to figure out which. But this guy had an opinion about everything, and once he started talking, he wouldn't shut up.
This is where Cooch steps in. For those that don't know Cooch, this guy isn't afraid to challenge people's views. Next thing you know, he's sparring with him on a vast array of issues. Cooch was hitting Mr. Know-It-All with question after question, asking him to support his mostly absure claims he was throwing out there. The whole time, I'm staying out of it and enjoying Cooch just making an ass out of this guy. They went back and forth for a good 20 minutes. It would have been longer had Cooch not diffused the situation by saying, "On that note, we gotta go..." Good thing Cooch said that, otherwise this fucker would have talked our ear off till three in the morning.
That was just one of the many stories we have from the trip. We might do a daily chronicle, but who knows how easy or hard that will be at this stage...
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Monday, June 13, 2005
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 9
Chitown White Sox
Monday, June 13, 2005
Prior to the game, L&C decide to play tourists and visit the Navy Pier, catching an IMAX event and riding the "high-speed" Seadog Adventures boat.
Lavinius and Cooch watch the Chitown White Sox lose to the Arizona Diamondbacks at U.S. Cellular Field.
Prior to the game, L&C decide to play tourists and visit the Navy Pier, catching an IMAX event and riding the "high-speed" Seadog Adventures boat.
Lavinius and Cooch watch the Chitown White Sox lose to the Arizona Diamondbacks at U.S. Cellular Field.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 8
Lavinius and Cooch at Wrigley Field: Sunday, June 12th
Cooch and I had the pleasure of being in attendance at the Red Sox/Cubs Sunday Night ESPN game on June 12th. Here's a photo of us taken by a Cubs rep to go in the "fanfoto" section of the Cubs' official website. It didn't even matter to the chick taking our picture that we were both Red Sox fans. Hey, no matter! It's just cool showing up in the Cubs' fanfotos. The Sox took over Wrigleyville that night, so it should only make sense that Cooch and I infiltrate the Cubs' fanfoto section... (from the 6.12.05 Gallery 29, photo 019).
From L to R: Cooch, Lavinius
From L to R: Cooch, Lavinius
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Cooch Goes Off at Indy Speedway!
DATE: JUNE 11, 2005
PLACE: Indianapolis Motor Speedway- Indianapolis, IN
My man Cooch did a solid job of recapping our Indy trip.
But what he didn't tell you was the altercation he had at the Indy Speedway with the inbreds at the front gate.
To set the scene for this little altercation...Cooch and I had just concluded the museum tour. After hitting the gift shop and dropping some coin there, we headed outside to walk around the campus for photo ops. Since there was no official tour of the outer grounds, we were forced to give ourselves a "self tour."
We did this using our best discretion. If we saw signs that said "No Tresspassing", "Keep Out", or "Stay the Fu*k Away Or Get a Verbal Lambasting from our Inbred Staff", we certainly heeded those calls.
For the most part, we didn't wander into forbidden areas. We stayed outside the fenced-in sections of the grounds and took our pics outside the fence.
After our picture-taking, we made our way back to the parking lot. Since the place is rather large, it is easy to lose your sense of direction, and if you're Lavinius and Cooch- master tour guides, it's easy to lose your sense of direction. So on our way back, we had an SUV populated with Speedway staffers follow behind us and spy on us for a good five minutes. After they got the spying out of their system, they pulled along side us and told us we had wandered into forbidden territory, despite no signage indicating otherwise.
About ten minutes prior, we had some dude in a golf cart drive by us to tell us, and a group of people that walked in our vicinity that we weren't allowed in the area, and again, no signage. I guess the folks at the Speedway thought we were mindreaders from Dionne Warwick's Psychic Friends Network.
The motto for most businesses is "the customer comes first." We weren't exactly getting treated like royalty. The red carpet was rolled up and stored away in a closet somewhere.
After several minutes of walking, we finally make it back to the parking lot area. We weren't actually *in* the parking lot, but out on the street which surrounded the parking lot. We wanted to grab another picture of the racetrack before we hit the road. Apparantly this was asking too much, as the two guys manning the front gate signaled for us to go back to the parking lot and to our car.
At this point, Cooch and I became agitated. This was the third time we had been approached. All we wanted was some pictures. We couldn't go five minutes without having some numbnuts tell us to move it along.
So finally, we went to our car. When we got to the front entrance where the aformentioned two guys were stationed, Cooch stopped the car and rolled down the window. I saw where this was going. To the best of my knowledge, Cooch's tirade went something like this:
"We came a long way to be here...you shouldn't treat your customers like that. All we wanted was to take some friggin pictures. And we weren't even allowed to do that. This is fucking bullshit, absolute bullshit to treat your customers like that. I just thought you would like to know." (*rolls window up and drives off*)
There were some other beauties mixed in, which Cooch can fill in if he likes, but that was the jist of it.
Needless to say, Cooch articulated everything I wanted to say, and did it so beautifully. Props to Cooch for having the apples to tell those people something that I'm sure hundreds of visitors didn't have the courage to tell them.
Cooch was right- you just don't treat your visitors like that. A lot of their visitors come from over 1000 miles just to check out their place and plop down hard earned money. The folks at Indy Speedway definitely need a lesson in customer service. It's like they act like it should be a priviledge for their visitors to set foot on their hallowed grounds. Like we should kiss the ground they walk on.
The only thing that should be kissed is our ass!
PLACE: Indianapolis Motor Speedway- Indianapolis, IN
My man Cooch did a solid job of recapping our Indy trip.
But what he didn't tell you was the altercation he had at the Indy Speedway with the inbreds at the front gate.
To set the scene for this little altercation...Cooch and I had just concluded the museum tour. After hitting the gift shop and dropping some coin there, we headed outside to walk around the campus for photo ops. Since there was no official tour of the outer grounds, we were forced to give ourselves a "self tour."
We did this using our best discretion. If we saw signs that said "No Tresspassing", "Keep Out", or "Stay the Fu*k Away Or Get a Verbal Lambasting from our Inbred Staff", we certainly heeded those calls.
For the most part, we didn't wander into forbidden areas. We stayed outside the fenced-in sections of the grounds and took our pics outside the fence.
After our picture-taking, we made our way back to the parking lot. Since the place is rather large, it is easy to lose your sense of direction, and if you're Lavinius and Cooch- master tour guides, it's easy to lose your sense of direction. So on our way back, we had an SUV populated with Speedway staffers follow behind us and spy on us for a good five minutes. After they got the spying out of their system, they pulled along side us and told us we had wandered into forbidden territory, despite no signage indicating otherwise.
About ten minutes prior, we had some dude in a golf cart drive by us to tell us, and a group of people that walked in our vicinity that we weren't allowed in the area, and again, no signage. I guess the folks at the Speedway thought we were mindreaders from Dionne Warwick's Psychic Friends Network.
The motto for most businesses is "the customer comes first." We weren't exactly getting treated like royalty. The red carpet was rolled up and stored away in a closet somewhere.
After several minutes of walking, we finally make it back to the parking lot area. We weren't actually *in* the parking lot, but out on the street which surrounded the parking lot. We wanted to grab another picture of the racetrack before we hit the road. Apparantly this was asking too much, as the two guys manning the front gate signaled for us to go back to the parking lot and to our car.
At this point, Cooch and I became agitated. This was the third time we had been approached. All we wanted was some pictures. We couldn't go five minutes without having some numbnuts tell us to move it along.
So finally, we went to our car. When we got to the front entrance where the aformentioned two guys were stationed, Cooch stopped the car and rolled down the window. I saw where this was going. To the best of my knowledge, Cooch's tirade went something like this:
"We came a long way to be here...you shouldn't treat your customers like that. All we wanted was to take some friggin pictures. And we weren't even allowed to do that. This is fucking bullshit, absolute bullshit to treat your customers like that. I just thought you would like to know." (*rolls window up and drives off*)
There were some other beauties mixed in, which Cooch can fill in if he likes, but that was the jist of it.
Needless to say, Cooch articulated everything I wanted to say, and did it so beautifully. Props to Cooch for having the apples to tell those people something that I'm sure hundreds of visitors didn't have the courage to tell them.
Cooch was right- you just don't treat your visitors like that. A lot of their visitors come from over 1000 miles just to check out their place and plop down hard earned money. The folks at Indy Speedway definitely need a lesson in customer service. It's like they act like it should be a priviledge for their visitors to set foot on their hallowed grounds. Like we should kiss the ground they walk on.
The only thing that should be kissed is our ass!
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 7
"Indianapolis in a Day"
June 11, 2005
Lavinius and Cooch decided to take a side trip to Indianapolis, just for the hell of it. We felt that the 1,000+ miles logged on the rental car just wasn't enough for us... Ultimately, we decided to hit Indy in a day and proceed to our next scheduled stop: Chicago.
Highlights of Indy:
1. Conseco Fieldhouse, Home of the Indiana Pacers. Lav and I did a drive-by and was almost gunned down by the fierce security guard, who must have been the infamous Wee-Man from the heralded MTV series "Jackass."
2. RCA Dome, Home of the Indianapolis Colts
3. Indianapolis Motor Speedway, aka "The Brickyard." Home to the famous Indianapolis 500 NASCAR race and the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Hall of Fame Museum.
Lavinius and Cooch decided to take a side trip to Indianapolis, just for the hell of it. We felt that the 1,000+ miles logged on the rental car just wasn't enough for us... Ultimately, we decided to hit Indy in a day and proceed to our next scheduled stop: Chicago.
Highlights of Indy:
1. Conseco Fieldhouse, Home of the Indiana Pacers. Lav and I did a drive-by and was almost gunned down by the fierce security guard, who must have been the infamous Wee-Man from the heralded MTV series "Jackass."
2. RCA Dome, Home of the Indianapolis Colts
3. Indianapolis Motor Speedway, aka "The Brickyard." Home to the famous Indianapolis 500 NASCAR race and the Indianapolis Motor Speedway Hall of Fame Museum.
Friday, June 10, 2005
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 6
"The Longest Yard"
June 10, 2005
Not much happening... Just traveled from St. Louis to Indianapolis and plunked ourselves down in the hotel. We ended up going to a local mall and watched "The Longest Yard." The movie was a riot and included a star-studded lineup with the likes of Adam Sandler, Chris Rock, Burt Reynolds, my man Michael Irvin, Nelly, Bill Romanowski, Kevin Nash, Steve Austin, and Brian Bosworth, to name a bunch...
Here's the plot summary, unscrupulously cut-and-pasted from somewhere on the Internet:
Paul "Wrecking" Crewe (Sandler) was a revered football superstar back in his day, but that time has since faded. But when a messy drunk driving incident lands him in jail, Paul finds he was specifically requested by Warden Hazen (James Cromwell), a duplicitous prison official well aware of Paul's athletic skills. Paul has been assigned the task of assembling a team of convicts, to square off in a big football game against the sadistic guards. With the help of fellow convict Caretaker (Rock), and an old legend named Nate Scarborough (Reynolds) to coach, Crewe is ready for what promises to be a very interesting game. It's only the warden and the guards who have no idea who or what they're up against, with Paul the driving force behind the new team.
Not much happening... Just traveled from St. Louis to Indianapolis and plunked ourselves down in the hotel. We ended up going to a local mall and watched "The Longest Yard." The movie was a riot and included a star-studded lineup with the likes of Adam Sandler, Chris Rock, Burt Reynolds, my man Michael Irvin, Nelly, Bill Romanowski, Kevin Nash, Steve Austin, and Brian Bosworth, to name a bunch...
Here's the plot summary, unscrupulously cut-and-pasted from somewhere on the Internet:
Paul "Wrecking" Crewe (Sandler) was a revered football superstar back in his day, but that time has since faded. But when a messy drunk driving incident lands him in jail, Paul finds he was specifically requested by Warden Hazen (James Cromwell), a duplicitous prison official well aware of Paul's athletic skills. Paul has been assigned the task of assembling a team of convicts, to square off in a big football game against the sadistic guards. With the help of fellow convict Caretaker (Rock), and an old legend named Nate Scarborough (Reynolds) to coach, Crewe is ready for what promises to be a very interesting game. It's only the warden and the guards who have no idea who or what they're up against, with Paul the driving force behind the new team.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 5
"Last Night in St. Louis"
June 9, 2005
Union Station
------------------
Last full day in St. Louis for us, so we decided to hit a couple tourist attractions. Our first stop was Union Station. Union Station was once the largest rail station in the world, but was transformed into a marketplace in the mid-80s after rail traffic ceased operations. Anyhoo, a H
yatt Regency, tons of shops, and a mall-like atmosphere highlights the historical landmark. We wandered about for a bit before we decided to have our caricatures done. Lemme just say that the "artist" was very pissy and shouldn't be in any type of service industry. Lavinius was first up, and I laughed as the artist captured L's large ears, nose, and thin face. Lavinius got his revenge, laughing at me when it was my turn, encouraging the onlookers to laugh too. (See photo at left for Cooch's caricature.)
We were on a mission at the Station to find a football to toss around. A stop in an official Budweiser store and we were in business - they had a cool multi-colored ball with mesh covering, perfect for gripping. L and I thought the ball might cost something like, say, $10 or so, but were sticker-shocked when the cashier rang it up at over $26! Zoiks... We dropped our freshly rendered caricatures in the rental car outside the Station and played toss with our overpriced football in the park across the street. I'd dare say that, with my arm and Lavinius' speed, we'd make a great tandem in the NFL! It was extremely hot (probably 100 degrees) but we survived due to a light breeze and wind-blown water from a nearby water fountain. Time for lunch... Once again, Lavinius and Cooch ended up eating at Hard Rock Cafe, located just outside the Station. And, yes, Cooch got another turkey burger. I think Lavinius ended up with steak...
The Arch Tour
-------------------
You can't leave St. Louis without taking the Arch tour... Click here to check out the official website and see the various Arch activities. We bought tickets for the "Journey to the Top" and the documentary movie. The Journey to the Top was pretty interesting; we were transported to the top of the Arch by a tram - the tram was a space-aged pod that was supposed to hold five people, but only comfortably fit about two adults. Poor circulation and a pod stuffed full of tourists made for a very warm and cozy ride to the top of the arch for L and I. Picture a 630-foot ascent in a peanut shell with a small group of strangers in a circle-jerk formation, breathing heavily in your face. We snapped a few photos from the top of the Arch - a very nice view - and rode the tram back down in time to catch the documentary movie. The movie, "Monument to the Dream," was nicely done. It was truly amazing to see the building of the Arch and the engineering behind it - and then to realize that we were at the top of the Arch just a few minutes before.
Game 1 of the NBA Finals
---------------------------------
Back to the hotel for us, with time to spare for pre-game hype of the NBA Finals Game 1. Detroit Pistons vs. San Antonio Spurs. My man Lavinius is a Pistons fan, so you can imagine his excitement. Anyhoo, we ordered some pizza from a local delivery joint - the pizza was average. I had made the following predictions: Spurs would win the game; Pistons would score less than 80 points; Pistons would lead after the first quarter; Spurs would outscore the Pistons in the third and fourth quarters; and the person in Section 110, Row B, Seat 12 would be named Kwamee. Who friggin' knew that all those predictions would be correct? Seriously, folks, I was dead-on with my predictions, to Lavinius' dismay. Spurs won the game 84-69. Needless to say, L was upset...
The Incident at Kinko's
-----------------------------
First off, let me just preface this by saying that I hate self-proclaimed geniuses. I mean, if you've got to persuade someone into thinking that you're smart, are you really that intelligent? Lavinius and I went to Kinko's after the basketball game to get some "real" high-speed Internet access. We hadn't had much contact with the real world since we started our trip, and my inbox was filling up. At Kinko's, L and I were on different workstations, mindin' our own bidness, when L makes a statement about the Bank of America. Some dude behind us chimes in with his two cents, somehow segueing to a tirade about how we'll run out of bullets during the next World War, how our computer systems will be rendered useless by terrorist strikes, and how everyone should carry a gun.
"Are you on drugs," I asked. "Seriously."
The man, about mid-40s and barely cohesive, was working on a large Starbucks coffee and talking to anybody who would listen. I decided to humor him and lend him an ear. Course, the guy was about as credible as Bill Clinton in Monica-gate.
"I've got three great ideas," the guy said, and assumed we'd take him at his word.
"Really, what are they," I asked.
The man replied with, "First, I'm going to sell the government lightweight armor for humvees. It'll be perfect for battle." He continued with, "Second, I'm going to design a bomb made of a jelly-like substance that will kill the enemy on contact." Then, he proceeded with, "I can't remember the third idea... I'm tired."
Um, okay. I start the barrage of questions like - How much will the armor cost? Given that the majority of enemy threats to our humvees are landmines, isn't the armor worthless at that point? This jelly-like bomb of yours - lemme get this straight - only kills those who come in direct contact with it? Once again, I had to clarify, "Are you high right now?" The man was a bit dejected - his former audiences probably did not challenge him, but just listened to him as though it were gospel. I started asking him other questions about his background, what he does for a living, etc. and the guy started stuttering, obviously shaken. "I own a company. I develop software for major corporations...," he said. He started muttering some other shit about what the company does, which seemed totally unrelated. His company, as he projected it, was the ACME of everything.
Let's see. A guy owns an information technology company and he's at Kinko's paying for Internet access? His stories had more holes than Hugh Heffner's Playmates' panties. Fuck him, I say to myself, it's time to go. The man kept sputtering shit, in no particular order, and about no particular subject, so I had to cut him off abruptly. I nod to Lavinius and tell the man, "On that note, it's time for us to go..."
The Big Bang Redux
---------------------------
Lavinius discussed "The Big Bang" in the "...Day 4" post, so I won't go into much detail here. Basically, I wanted to hit The Big Bang one last time before leaving St. Louis. The hosts weren't as talented as the previous night's group, but they were still entertaining. I was basically there to see if someone could pull off "November Rain," so I put my request in as soon as we arrived. Within the hour, I could hear the opening notes of the popular Guns 'N Roses tune, and my eyes must have widened. Everyone in the crowd (maybe 20 people at that point in the morning) was signing along as best as they could - it wasn't Axl Rose on stage by any means, but the guy did a nice job on a tough song. At the end of the night, shortly after last call, the hosts were yelling to the crowd, asking if we had any last requests. "Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana," I yelled twice, just in case the first time wasn't loud enough. Sure enough, the guy starts tickling the ivory, busting out in a piano-rendition of the grunge tune. Again, those left in the audience loved the tune and were singing it loudly.
It was a great way to wrap up our last night in St. Louis. We were back at the hotel around 3:00 a.m., getting some sleep for our side trip to Indianapolis...
Union Station
------------------
Last full day in St. Louis for us, so we decided to hit a couple tourist attractions. Our first stop was Union Station. Union Station was once the largest rail station in the world, but was transformed into a marketplace in the mid-80s after rail traffic ceased operations. Anyhoo, a H
yatt Regency, tons of shops, and a mall-like atmosphere highlights the historical landmark. We wandered about for a bit before we decided to have our caricatures done. Lemme just say that the "artist" was very pissy and shouldn't be in any type of service industry. Lavinius was first up, and I laughed as the artist captured L's large ears, nose, and thin face. Lavinius got his revenge, laughing at me when it was my turn, encouraging the onlookers to laugh too. (See photo at left for Cooch's caricature.)We were on a mission at the Station to find a football to toss around. A stop in an official Budweiser store and we were in business - they had a cool multi-colored ball with mesh covering, perfect for gripping. L and I thought the ball might cost something like, say, $10 or so, but were sticker-shocked when the cashier rang it up at over $26! Zoiks... We dropped our freshly rendered caricatures in the rental car outside the Station and played toss with our overpriced football in the park across the street. I'd dare say that, with my arm and Lavinius' speed, we'd make a great tandem in the NFL! It was extremely hot (probably 100 degrees) but we survived due to a light breeze and wind-blown water from a nearby water fountain. Time for lunch... Once again, Lavinius and Cooch ended up eating at Hard Rock Cafe, located just outside the Station. And, yes, Cooch got another turkey burger. I think Lavinius ended up with steak...
The Arch Tour
-------------------
You can't leave St. Louis without taking the Arch tour... Click here to check out the official website and see the various Arch activities. We bought tickets for the "Journey to the Top" and the documentary movie. The Journey to the Top was pretty interesting; we were transported to the top of the Arch by a tram - the tram was a space-aged pod that was supposed to hold five people, but only comfortably fit about two adults. Poor circulation and a pod stuffed full of tourists made for a very warm and cozy ride to the top of the arch for L and I. Picture a 630-foot ascent in a peanut shell with a small group of strangers in a circle-jerk formation, breathing heavily in your face. We snapped a few photos from the top of the Arch - a very nice view - and rode the tram back down in time to catch the documentary movie. The movie, "Monument to the Dream," was nicely done. It was truly amazing to see the building of the Arch and the engineering behind it - and then to realize that we were at the top of the Arch just a few minutes before.
Game 1 of the NBA Finals
---------------------------------
Back to the hotel for us, with time to spare for pre-game hype of the NBA Finals Game 1. Detroit Pistons vs. San Antonio Spurs. My man Lavinius is a Pistons fan, so you can imagine his excitement. Anyhoo, we ordered some pizza from a local delivery joint - the pizza was average. I had made the following predictions: Spurs would win the game; Pistons would score less than 80 points; Pistons would lead after the first quarter; Spurs would outscore the Pistons in the third and fourth quarters; and the person in Section 110, Row B, Seat 12 would be named Kwamee. Who friggin' knew that all those predictions would be correct? Seriously, folks, I was dead-on with my predictions, to Lavinius' dismay. Spurs won the game 84-69. Needless to say, L was upset...
The Incident at Kinko's
-----------------------------
First off, let me just preface this by saying that I hate self-proclaimed geniuses. I mean, if you've got to persuade someone into thinking that you're smart, are you really that intelligent? Lavinius and I went to Kinko's after the basketball game to get some "real" high-speed Internet access. We hadn't had much contact with the real world since we started our trip, and my inbox was filling up. At Kinko's, L and I were on different workstations, mindin' our own bidness, when L makes a statement about the Bank of America. Some dude behind us chimes in with his two cents, somehow segueing to a tirade about how we'll run out of bullets during the next World War, how our computer systems will be rendered useless by terrorist strikes, and how everyone should carry a gun.
"Are you on drugs," I asked. "Seriously."
The man, about mid-40s and barely cohesive, was working on a large Starbucks coffee and talking to anybody who would listen. I decided to humor him and lend him an ear. Course, the guy was about as credible as Bill Clinton in Monica-gate.
"I've got three great ideas," the guy said, and assumed we'd take him at his word.
"Really, what are they," I asked.
The man replied with, "First, I'm going to sell the government lightweight armor for humvees. It'll be perfect for battle." He continued with, "Second, I'm going to design a bomb made of a jelly-like substance that will kill the enemy on contact." Then, he proceeded with, "I can't remember the third idea... I'm tired."
Um, okay. I start the barrage of questions like - How much will the armor cost? Given that the majority of enemy threats to our humvees are landmines, isn't the armor worthless at that point? This jelly-like bomb of yours - lemme get this straight - only kills those who come in direct contact with it? Once again, I had to clarify, "Are you high right now?" The man was a bit dejected - his former audiences probably did not challenge him, but just listened to him as though it were gospel. I started asking him other questions about his background, what he does for a living, etc. and the guy started stuttering, obviously shaken. "I own a company. I develop software for major corporations...," he said. He started muttering some other shit about what the company does, which seemed totally unrelated. His company, as he projected it, was the ACME of everything.
Let's see. A guy owns an information technology company and he's at Kinko's paying for Internet access? His stories had more holes than Hugh Heffner's Playmates' panties. Fuck him, I say to myself, it's time to go. The man kept sputtering shit, in no particular order, and about no particular subject, so I had to cut him off abruptly. I nod to Lavinius and tell the man, "On that note, it's time for us to go..."
The Big Bang Redux
---------------------------
Lavinius discussed "The Big Bang" in the "...Day 4" post, so I won't go into much detail here. Basically, I wanted to hit The Big Bang one last time before leaving St. Louis. The hosts weren't as talented as the previous night's group, but they were still entertaining. I was basically there to see if someone could pull off "November Rain," so I put my request in as soon as we arrived. Within the hour, I could hear the opening notes of the popular Guns 'N Roses tune, and my eyes must have widened. Everyone in the crowd (maybe 20 people at that point in the morning) was signing along as best as they could - it wasn't Axl Rose on stage by any means, but the guy did a nice job on a tough song. At the end of the night, shortly after last call, the hosts were yelling to the crowd, asking if we had any last requests. "Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana," I yelled twice, just in case the first time wasn't loud enough. Sure enough, the guy starts tickling the ivory, busting out in a piano-rendition of the grunge tune. Again, those left in the audience loved the tune and were singing it loudly.
It was a great way to wrap up our last night in St. Louis. We were back at the hotel around 3:00 a.m., getting some sleep for our side trip to Indianapolis...
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 4
Three Things on the Agenda
June 8, 2004
Hampton Inn
St. Louis, MO
The tour rolls on as Lavinius and Cooch enter Day 4 of their midwest swing...
On tap for the day were three major things:
1) Meramec Caverns- Stanton, MO (about 60 mi west of St. L)
2) Sox/Cards game later that night
3) "Big Bang" piano bar- LaClede's Landing (St. L waterfront)
First stop was the Caverns. Cooch and I wanted to do something a little off the beaten path- something that would give the trip a unique twist. We mutually decided to make the trek to Meramec Caverns. It was supposed to be one of the top cave destinations in the country due to their unique stalagtite/stalagmite formations. (Note: For those of you dumbasses who don't know what stalagtites and stalagmites are, do a search. You mofos should have learned that in high school anyway.).
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. On our way to the Caverns, our road parallelled the world famous Route 66. (Note: For those of you who don't know what Route 66 is, first off, you're dumb as shit. Secondly, be grateful as hell there's the internet where you can search anonymously without letting the rest of the world know you're dumber than a bag of rocks. Look, I'm just doing a chronicle here, not teaching Science or Geography class).
Just busting balls here. Hope I didn't offend anyone. If I did, I state in a tactful way to lighten the fu*k up!
So we get to within 5 miles of the Caverns. By now, we're in an area so hick, it makes Cooch's residence in Lisbon Falls look like a major metropolis. Keep in mind that Cooch lives in a town so small, his arm is in two different zip codes...
Even our cell phone carrier, Cingular, didn't cover the area we were in, and Cingular is supposed to have the largest coverage area of all the major wireless carriers. When you're in an area and you have no service, red flags...
We got to the Caverns around lunchtime. Since we were both hungry, we decided to grab a bite to eat in their in-house restaurant. Kind of reminded me of a down-scaled Denny's. And if I'm downscaling Denny's, well, use your imagination...
So I order myself a BBQ chicken sandwich. And Cooch orders...you guessed it, a friggin turkeyburger. How Cooch managed to live off those things on our trip I'll never know. Wasn't there anything more appetizing, such as roadkill, he could have eaten instead?
But I digress. My food was predictibly mediocre. Cooch's turkeyburger was even worse. My guess is it rivaled Play-Dough.
Once we got done eating, it was time to start the tour. Our tour guide (forgot his name) was an interesting mofo to say the least. First off, dude couldn't say five words without losing his wind. The fucker was panting like a dog in heat. During the tour, he had to stop several times to catch his wind. Fucking guy made David Wells look like Lance Armstrong.
Our tour guide aside, the tour itself was very impressive. We found out that the caves went on for close to 30 miles, but the general public only gets to walk about two of those 30 miles. Pretty cool. Plus, Meramec Caverns is one of the only caverns in the country (or perhaps THEE only one) that had a movie screen form from their formations. At the end of the tour, our oxygen deprived tour guide led us into their "movie theatre" where we were treated to a kalidescope of colors on their nature-made movie screen, and it was all done to music. The tour guide controlled all the colors and designs/patterns that were shown on the screen from the push of a button. It was a little cheesy, but definitely unique.
After the tour, Cooch and I decided to get some fudge from the fudge stand that was in the place. Both of us were very non-commital as to what kind of fudge we wanted, so we just pestered the shit out of the girl behind the counter to give us samples of just about every flavor they had. I developed a guilty conscience after a while, so finally, Cooch decided to get a small block of cookies n' cream. Let me tell you, that shizzle was the shiznit. In other words, it was damn delicious.
Soon we were on our way back to the mainland (St. Louis). The Sox/Cards game was at 6:10, and we didn't have much time to kill once we got back into town. Plus the weather started getting really bad, and soon enough, we were getting rained on like a mofo. Our game looked to be in serious jeopardy. We were just waiting on our hotel room for the rain to stop. We had that luxury because our living quarters were just 6-8 blocks from the stadium.
Finally, at around six or so, we saw that the rain cleared up, so we decided to head down there. Once we got into the stadium, Cooch and I ran into this young St. Louis fan. He noticed that I had a Red Sox shirt on and he wanted to know what it said. (Note: It read: THE DROUGHT IS OVER! THE REIGN BEGINS! BOSTON RED SOX- 2004 WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS). So I answered him, probably not in the most tactful way, "It says the Sox kicked your ass last year!" Needless to say, the kid was taken aback by it. Look like I almost drove him to tears. After I said it, I immediately wanted to take it back, because it was clear he wasn't there to talk smack, and Cardinals fans have a rep for being the classiest fans in baseball. So I apologized to him. He didn't seem to be too forgiving, so he probably went home thinking that Sox fans are fucking pricks.
Hey, I felt bad. Keep in mind that I'm a Sox fan. I've taken more verbal abuse than the majority of sports fans in the country in my lifetime, so naturally, when an opposing fan steps to me, my defense mechanism goes up. But still, it was an dickhead thing to do, and Cardinal fan, if you're reading this, I'm sorry brother. But that still doesn't change the fact that the Sox still kicked your asses and celebrated in your city till the wee hours of the morning!
As far as the game goes, the Sox had lost the first two games in St. Louis. They needed this game just to salvage one. Sox Nation turned their lonely eyes to David Wells, who had been knocked around like a speedbag this year. Against one of the top hitting clubs in the bigs, it seemed there was no end in sight. But I'll be damned if Wellsie didn't prove Cooch and I wrong. The guy was just "on" that day. You know when a pitcher is on, too. He's got all his shit working. He's throwing all his pitches for strikes. He's got the other team so off-balance. They're sitting fastball, Wells is dropping a deuce (okay, bad analogy there). They're sitting curveball, Wells busts a fastball on the inside corner. I mean all night dude was bringing it.
Sox won the game 4-0, their first win in St. Louis since that fateful night that Sox fans will not soon forget.
After the ballgame, it was time to have some fun. So Cooch and I hit this piano bar called the "Big Bang" located in St. Louis' famous "LaClede's Landing" located on the banks of the Mississippi. That's not necessarily a good thing. Especially with the repugnant odor coming from those waters.
The Big Bang was...well...bangin'. You had two guys on dueling pianos, playing and singing mostly 80's songs. The crowd there was mostly college-aged kids, and everyone in the bar was singing along, so it made for a high energy atmosphere. Cooch and I had some drinks and enjoyed the live music. Cooch was actually trying to put in a request for a song- "November Rain" by Guns n' Roses. They couldn't do the request because one of the piano players who normally plays that song wasn't there that night, so his request would have to wait till the next night.
At about 2:30, Cooch and I headed back to our hotel, as we prepped for yet another day of our never-ending journey through the mid-west...
Hampton Inn
St. Louis, MO
The tour rolls on as Lavinius and Cooch enter Day 4 of their midwest swing...
On tap for the day were three major things:
1) Meramec Caverns- Stanton, MO (about 60 mi west of St. L)
2) Sox/Cards game later that night
3) "Big Bang" piano bar- LaClede's Landing (St. L waterfront)
First stop was the Caverns. Cooch and I wanted to do something a little off the beaten path- something that would give the trip a unique twist. We mutually decided to make the trek to Meramec Caverns. It was supposed to be one of the top cave destinations in the country due to their unique stalagtite/stalagmite formations. (Note: For those of you dumbasses who don't know what stalagtites and stalagmites are, do a search. You mofos should have learned that in high school anyway.).
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. On our way to the Caverns, our road parallelled the world famous Route 66. (Note: For those of you who don't know what Route 66 is, first off, you're dumb as shit. Secondly, be grateful as hell there's the internet where you can search anonymously without letting the rest of the world know you're dumber than a bag of rocks. Look, I'm just doing a chronicle here, not teaching Science or Geography class).
Just busting balls here. Hope I didn't offend anyone. If I did, I state in a tactful way to lighten the fu*k up!
So we get to within 5 miles of the Caverns. By now, we're in an area so hick, it makes Cooch's residence in Lisbon Falls look like a major metropolis. Keep in mind that Cooch lives in a town so small, his arm is in two different zip codes...
Even our cell phone carrier, Cingular, didn't cover the area we were in, and Cingular is supposed to have the largest coverage area of all the major wireless carriers. When you're in an area and you have no service, red flags...
We got to the Caverns around lunchtime. Since we were both hungry, we decided to grab a bite to eat in their in-house restaurant. Kind of reminded me of a down-scaled Denny's. And if I'm downscaling Denny's, well, use your imagination...
So I order myself a BBQ chicken sandwich. And Cooch orders...you guessed it, a friggin turkeyburger. How Cooch managed to live off those things on our trip I'll never know. Wasn't there anything more appetizing, such as roadkill, he could have eaten instead?
But I digress. My food was predictibly mediocre. Cooch's turkeyburger was even worse. My guess is it rivaled Play-Dough.
Once we got done eating, it was time to start the tour. Our tour guide (forgot his name) was an interesting mofo to say the least. First off, dude couldn't say five words without losing his wind. The fucker was panting like a dog in heat. During the tour, he had to stop several times to catch his wind. Fucking guy made David Wells look like Lance Armstrong.
Our tour guide aside, the tour itself was very impressive. We found out that the caves went on for close to 30 miles, but the general public only gets to walk about two of those 30 miles. Pretty cool. Plus, Meramec Caverns is one of the only caverns in the country (or perhaps THEE only one) that had a movie screen form from their formations. At the end of the tour, our oxygen deprived tour guide led us into their "movie theatre" where we were treated to a kalidescope of colors on their nature-made movie screen, and it was all done to music. The tour guide controlled all the colors and designs/patterns that were shown on the screen from the push of a button. It was a little cheesy, but definitely unique.
After the tour, Cooch and I decided to get some fudge from the fudge stand that was in the place. Both of us were very non-commital as to what kind of fudge we wanted, so we just pestered the shit out of the girl behind the counter to give us samples of just about every flavor they had. I developed a guilty conscience after a while, so finally, Cooch decided to get a small block of cookies n' cream. Let me tell you, that shizzle was the shiznit. In other words, it was damn delicious.
Soon we were on our way back to the mainland (St. Louis). The Sox/Cards game was at 6:10, and we didn't have much time to kill once we got back into town. Plus the weather started getting really bad, and soon enough, we were getting rained on like a mofo. Our game looked to be in serious jeopardy. We were just waiting on our hotel room for the rain to stop. We had that luxury because our living quarters were just 6-8 blocks from the stadium.
Finally, at around six or so, we saw that the rain cleared up, so we decided to head down there. Once we got into the stadium, Cooch and I ran into this young St. Louis fan. He noticed that I had a Red Sox shirt on and he wanted to know what it said. (Note: It read: THE DROUGHT IS OVER! THE REIGN BEGINS! BOSTON RED SOX- 2004 WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS). So I answered him, probably not in the most tactful way, "It says the Sox kicked your ass last year!" Needless to say, the kid was taken aback by it. Look like I almost drove him to tears. After I said it, I immediately wanted to take it back, because it was clear he wasn't there to talk smack, and Cardinals fans have a rep for being the classiest fans in baseball. So I apologized to him. He didn't seem to be too forgiving, so he probably went home thinking that Sox fans are fucking pricks.
Hey, I felt bad. Keep in mind that I'm a Sox fan. I've taken more verbal abuse than the majority of sports fans in the country in my lifetime, so naturally, when an opposing fan steps to me, my defense mechanism goes up. But still, it was an dickhead thing to do, and Cardinal fan, if you're reading this, I'm sorry brother. But that still doesn't change the fact that the Sox still kicked your asses and celebrated in your city till the wee hours of the morning!
As far as the game goes, the Sox had lost the first two games in St. Louis. They needed this game just to salvage one. Sox Nation turned their lonely eyes to David Wells, who had been knocked around like a speedbag this year. Against one of the top hitting clubs in the bigs, it seemed there was no end in sight. But I'll be damned if Wellsie didn't prove Cooch and I wrong. The guy was just "on" that day. You know when a pitcher is on, too. He's got all his shit working. He's throwing all his pitches for strikes. He's got the other team so off-balance. They're sitting fastball, Wells is dropping a deuce (okay, bad analogy there). They're sitting curveball, Wells busts a fastball on the inside corner. I mean all night dude was bringing it.
Sox won the game 4-0, their first win in St. Louis since that fateful night that Sox fans will not soon forget.
After the ballgame, it was time to have some fun. So Cooch and I hit this piano bar called the "Big Bang" located in St. Louis' famous "LaClede's Landing" located on the banks of the Mississippi. That's not necessarily a good thing. Especially with the repugnant odor coming from those waters.
The Big Bang was...well...bangin'. You had two guys on dueling pianos, playing and singing mostly 80's songs. The crowd there was mostly college-aged kids, and everyone in the bar was singing along, so it made for a high energy atmosphere. Cooch and I had some drinks and enjoyed the live music. Cooch was actually trying to put in a request for a song- "November Rain" by Guns n' Roses. They couldn't do the request because one of the piano players who normally plays that song wasn't there that night, so his request would have to wait till the next night.
At about 2:30, Cooch and I headed back to our hotel, as we prepped for yet another day of our never-ending journey through the mid-west...
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 3
"Welcome to St. Louis!"
Day 3: June 7, 2005
[Editor's Note: Now, when Lavinius says "navigationally impaired," he means it. When we took our MLB trip last year, we got lost more times than a high school virgin looking for his girlfriend's clit. Did we learn our lesson? Did we take the time to scope out our territories and get familiar with the maps? Did we even think that Mapquest could possibly be wrong? No, no, and no. When it comes to directions, we couldn't find the G-spot on a beluga whale - EVEN IF THERE WAS A HUGE RED TARGET SURROUNDED BY WHITE STRIPES STARING US DIRECTLY IN THE FACE. Seriously, are you getting my point?]
Comfort Inn and Cracker Barrel: Bloomington, IL:
-----------------------------------------------------------------
We start the day with a little bit of breakfast from Cracker Barrel - conveniently located in an adjacent parking lot to our hotel. Now, I say breakfast, but I believe we slept in since today was a travel day for us. So, breakfast was probably at lunchtime... From this point forward, our body clocks and eating schedules were totally messed up.
Anyhoo, Lavinius said Cracker Barrel was the shiznit, so I take him at face value - Lavinius has made some solid eating suggestions in the past (e.g., some deli in New York, Krispy Kreme, and Cold Stone Creamery). Personally, I wasn't a huge fan of Cracker Barrel's breakfast, but I attribute that to my Northern Maine sense of breakfast - eggs, toast, and home fries [home fries: i.e., grilled potatoes with butter and, perhaps, onions]. I can't even recall what they called their breakfast potatoes, but they were slightly more than mashed potatoes with some cheese in it - and some other substances I couldn't quite identify. Anyway, Lavinius' recommendation of the Barrel was based on his consumption of pancakes - I'm not much of a pancake eater.
The ironic part of eating at the Barrel was one of their menu items - Muffins with "Fresh Maine Wild-Blueberries." Um, hold on a second... Not sure how they were advertising the berries as fresh considering that they weren't even in season... They weren't foolin' me!
After brunch was finished, we were on our way to St. Louis!!!
Dropping a Deuce & The Goon Squad...
--------------------------------------------------
Somewhere along the way, Cooch coins the phrase "drop a deuce" - i.e., take a shit. The phrase will live on in infamy, much like the term "goon squad." Lavinius and Cooch will make several references to both words throughout the course of the trip...
Despite our history of having "challenges" getting from point A to point B, Lavinius and Cooch didn't get lost once on their way to St. Louis - that's right, not once! A quick stop off the Interstate for some gas and quality time for Cooch to drop a deuce at the gas station was all that impeded our mid-afternoon arrival to the Hampton Inn at the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. Talk about great location - we were within walking distance to all the main tourist attractions, including the ballpark. We could see Edward Jones Stadium (home of the St. Louis Rams) from our hotel room window - the temperature on the EJ Stadium outdoor-display read 101 degrees.
Bored stiff and rustlin' around the hotel room, Lavinius and Cooch decided to order WebTV Internet access from the comfort of our own room. I mean, the hotel boasted break-neck speeds and unfettered access! 24 hours for only $9.95!!! What a deal!!! Of course, the shit was slower than my 28.8 bps modem used to be and the screen was so condensed that most of the web pages wouldn't fit on the screen. Oh, and no mouse - navigation consisted of using the TV remote and cursor keys on a wireless keyboard (a keyboard with dead batteries, that is!!!). Enough with the WebTV already! We had places to be...
A quick spray of odor eaters to their sandals and the dynamic duo (who other than Lavinius and Cooch?) were on their way to the Gateway Arch Riverfront to take a riverboat tour. Did I mention that it was over 100 degrees? After purchasing our tour tickets and making our way to the boat, a middle-aged woman collecting the tour tickets - who looked like a haggard grandmother - asked if Lavinius was a model, hitting on him with nasty come-on lines. I mean, who wouldn't mistake L for a model? She either thought he was cute or gay... Hopefully it was the former... The boat tour was a bit drab - we were on the Mississippi River and the primary purpose of the river for St. Louis' sake was interstate commerce. As such, there were many barges and unsightly riverbank spots, low-lighted by a filthy body of water. Quite frankly, if we both were to drop a deuce into the Mississippi, nobody would have been able to differentiate between that and the other particles floating atop the river...
St. Louis - famous for BBQ?
-----------------------------------
Back to the hotel, with fresh batteries in the WebTV keyboard... Lavinius was dead-set on finding BBQ for dinner - metaphorically, he associates St. Louis to BBQ as Maine would be to blueberries or lobster. After a serious struggle with WebTV, we managed to find a respectable BBQ restaurant that met Lavinius' strict standards - Bandana's Bar-B-Q in Clayton, MO, just 15-20 minutes or so from the hotel. Why not? It's not like we'd get lost!
I'd give Bandana's 3 of 5 stars - just average; BBQ sauces were a bit runny and their "hot" sauce was relatively mild (we were drinking the stuff before our meal arrived!). We got some sort of sampler dish - chicken thighs (or was that turkey?), pork, more pork, some pork-stuff, roasted pigs' ass, garlic bread, and baked potatoes. Honestly, there was a ton of shit on the plate and I can't remember everything that was on it - but I do know that we polished off about 2 or 3 bottles'-worth of BBQ sauce before we were finished. Lavinius accused me of taking more than half of the pork giblets, but the muhfuckah was voraciously downing 75% of the dish's contents while I was drinking my beer - seriously, the skinny mofo can eat...
Back to the hotel for us. Some television before bedtime and day 3 was officially in the books...
[Editor's Note: Now, when Lavinius says "navigationally impaired," he means it. When we took our MLB trip last year, we got lost more times than a high school virgin looking for his girlfriend's clit. Did we learn our lesson? Did we take the time to scope out our territories and get familiar with the maps? Did we even think that Mapquest could possibly be wrong? No, no, and no. When it comes to directions, we couldn't find the G-spot on a beluga whale - EVEN IF THERE WAS A HUGE RED TARGET SURROUNDED BY WHITE STRIPES STARING US DIRECTLY IN THE FACE. Seriously, are you getting my point?]
Comfort Inn and Cracker Barrel: Bloomington, IL:
-----------------------------------------------------------------
We start the day with a little bit of breakfast from Cracker Barrel - conveniently located in an adjacent parking lot to our hotel. Now, I say breakfast, but I believe we slept in since today was a travel day for us. So, breakfast was probably at lunchtime... From this point forward, our body clocks and eating schedules were totally messed up.
Anyhoo, Lavinius said Cracker Barrel was the shiznit, so I take him at face value - Lavinius has made some solid eating suggestions in the past (e.g., some deli in New York, Krispy Kreme, and Cold Stone Creamery). Personally, I wasn't a huge fan of Cracker Barrel's breakfast, but I attribute that to my Northern Maine sense of breakfast - eggs, toast, and home fries [home fries: i.e., grilled potatoes with butter and, perhaps, onions]. I can't even recall what they called their breakfast potatoes, but they were slightly more than mashed potatoes with some cheese in it - and some other substances I couldn't quite identify. Anyway, Lavinius' recommendation of the Barrel was based on his consumption of pancakes - I'm not much of a pancake eater.
The ironic part of eating at the Barrel was one of their menu items - Muffins with "Fresh Maine Wild-Blueberries." Um, hold on a second... Not sure how they were advertising the berries as fresh considering that they weren't even in season... They weren't foolin' me!
After brunch was finished, we were on our way to St. Louis!!!
Dropping a Deuce & The Goon Squad...
--------------------------------------------------
Somewhere along the way, Cooch coins the phrase "drop a deuce" - i.e., take a shit. The phrase will live on in infamy, much like the term "goon squad." Lavinius and Cooch will make several references to both words throughout the course of the trip...
Despite our history of having "challenges" getting from point A to point B, Lavinius and Cooch didn't get lost once on their way to St. Louis - that's right, not once! A quick stop off the Interstate for some gas and quality time for Cooch to drop a deuce at the gas station was all that impeded our mid-afternoon arrival to the Hampton Inn at the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. Talk about great location - we were within walking distance to all the main tourist attractions, including the ballpark. We could see Edward Jones Stadium (home of the St. Louis Rams) from our hotel room window - the temperature on the EJ Stadium outdoor-display read 101 degrees.
Bored stiff and rustlin' around the hotel room, Lavinius and Cooch decided to order WebTV Internet access from the comfort of our own room. I mean, the hotel boasted break-neck speeds and unfettered access! 24 hours for only $9.95!!! What a deal!!! Of course, the shit was slower than my 28.8 bps modem used to be and the screen was so condensed that most of the web pages wouldn't fit on the screen. Oh, and no mouse - navigation consisted of using the TV remote and cursor keys on a wireless keyboard (a keyboard with dead batteries, that is!!!). Enough with the WebTV already! We had places to be...
A quick spray of odor eaters to their sandals and the dynamic duo (who other than Lavinius and Cooch?) were on their way to the Gateway Arch Riverfront to take a riverboat tour. Did I mention that it was over 100 degrees? After purchasing our tour tickets and making our way to the boat, a middle-aged woman collecting the tour tickets - who looked like a haggard grandmother - asked if Lavinius was a model, hitting on him with nasty come-on lines. I mean, who wouldn't mistake L for a model? She either thought he was cute or gay... Hopefully it was the former... The boat tour was a bit drab - we were on the Mississippi River and the primary purpose of the river for St. Louis' sake was interstate commerce. As such, there were many barges and unsightly riverbank spots, low-lighted by a filthy body of water. Quite frankly, if we both were to drop a deuce into the Mississippi, nobody would have been able to differentiate between that and the other particles floating atop the river...
St. Louis - famous for BBQ?
-----------------------------------
Back to the hotel, with fresh batteries in the WebTV keyboard... Lavinius was dead-set on finding BBQ for dinner - metaphorically, he associates St. Louis to BBQ as Maine would be to blueberries or lobster. After a serious struggle with WebTV, we managed to find a respectable BBQ restaurant that met Lavinius' strict standards - Bandana's Bar-B-Q in Clayton, MO, just 15-20 minutes or so from the hotel. Why not? It's not like we'd get lost!
I'd give Bandana's 3 of 5 stars - just average; BBQ sauces were a bit runny and their "hot" sauce was relatively mild (we were drinking the stuff before our meal arrived!). We got some sort of sampler dish - chicken thighs (or was that turkey?), pork, more pork, some pork-stuff, roasted pigs' ass, garlic bread, and baked potatoes. Honestly, there was a ton of shit on the plate and I can't remember everything that was on it - but I do know that we polished off about 2 or 3 bottles'-worth of BBQ sauce before we were finished. Lavinius accused me of taking more than half of the pork giblets, but the muhfuckah was voraciously downing 75% of the dish's contents while I was drinking my beer - seriously, the skinny mofo can eat...
Back to the hotel for us. Some television before bedtime and day 3 was officially in the books...
Monday, June 06, 2005
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 2
"I friggin HATE getting up early!"
June 6, 2004
Tage Inn
Manchester, NH
Did I mention I hate getting up early?
When I say that, I'm not talking about 8:00am early. I'm talking getting up at an hour of the morning so early, the roosters are still sleeping. That's exactly what was in store for the Coochman and myself.
We had arranged for a 4:00am wake-up call (which are always fun) as well as set the alarm on the clock/radio the night before to go off at 4:15, just to cover our asses.
Well, I had woken up around 4, but I was still laying in bed half comatose. Whenever I have to get up that early, I milk every single friggin minute of rest until the utters of time run dry.
It had gotten to be 4:05...then 4:10...still no wake-up call from the front desk. Finally, at 4:15 the alarm goes off. This wakes Cooch out of his deep sleep. He then gets out of bed and hits the shower.
While Cooch was in the shower, at 4:23, our wake-up call finally came. They were only 23 minutes late, but it was still much appreciated. NOT!
After I showered up, Cooch and I went downstairs for the hotel's complimentary breakfast. Homefolks (a combination of homeboys and homegirls) at the Tage Inn spared no expense. They had a Belgian Waffle iron along with cups of waffle batter for guests to make their own waffles. At 5:00am, Cooch and I were the first ones down there, and we took full advantage of the waffles. That was some good shizzle.
After downing the waffles, it was time to head to the airport. To our dismay, Mallory the Shuttle wench wasn't working first shift. Cooch and I were hoping she did shuttling 24/7, but she let us down. We just needed that bubbly personality that early in the morning. But the only thing bubbly on Mallory was her ass, belly, and flapjack arms. (Mallory, if you're reading this, I'm only kidding. If you're not, I'm not kidding and mean everything I say. Just to show you how bad I feel, enjoy a few cookies at the front desk...on me).
Fast forward to the flight to Chicago, which was uneventful for the most part. We got in around 7:45 central time. Both our cell phones automatically adjusted the clock to reflect central time, which was effin cool. I don't get out of the eastern time zone too much, so seeing the clock on my phone changing had me awe-struck.
Next order of bidness once we were at Chicago Midway was get our luggage at baggage claim. I think we each had one bag, and if I recall we didn't have to wait long for 'em.
After getting our luggage, it was time to pick up our rental car at Budget, which was located in the airport parking garage. Leave it to our retarded, no navigation skills selves to have trouble finding the fucking thing. We must have walked around in circles three times and went upstairs once or twice for no reason at all. Finally, we came to our senses and asked the chick at the Budget counter where to go, since apparantly her directions didn't register the first time. Half of us mentally was still asleep at the Tage Inn in Manchester.
About a half hour later, we finally found the Budget station in the parking garage, got our car, and from there, we were off to Wisconsin.
Our jaunt to Milwaukee was deathly boring. We got a crash course on what it was like to drive in Wisconsin. If you find miles upon miles of grass fields and farmland interesting, then driving in Wisconsin is for you, but the rest of us...find some other forms of entertainment because the scenery sure ain't gonna give you any.
Eventually, when we regained our bearings, we hit a local mall to get some info on the local attractions. One place we decided to hit was the Harley-Davidson plant about 15 minutes to the north. So that's what we did. It was a pretty cool. We got a narrated tour of the plant. Since it was so loud in there, our tour guide handed out headsets. The guide spoke into a microphone which was supposed to resonate into our headsets, but I could barely pick out a cotdamn thing. I must have gotten the headset from Mars or something. But it was pretty interesting to actually go into the factory where they make Harley's and check out the process that goes into making those kick-ass bikes.
As good as the Harley tour was, it paled in comparison to the one tour I was looking forward to doing in Milwaukee- the Miller Brewing Plant tour.
That tour was solid, even taking into account that our tour was hijacked by Will. When he skipped into the auditorium with his little flower basket by his side and daisy in his hair, my gaydar started going crazy. Not to mention it was a real wood killer considering we had a cute chick leading us into the auditorium for the introductory film on Miller Beer.
Overall, the tour was real good, but it could have done without Richard Simmons' Godson. The best part of the tour was easily the free beer! We claimed our beer in the famed Miller Beer Garden. It's amazing how fresh the beer tastes at the plant versus at the bar or in a restaurant when it's already lost some of its freshness. Cooch and I agreed that the complimentary beer was excellent. Each of us went back for three.
They even offered people a chance to send postcards (postage paid) to people, so Cooch and I cranked out a few posties to peeps back home.
After the tours, we were starving like mofos. We were looking for this one place to eat, but we were never able to find it because the numbering on the street was all fucked up, so we settled on eating at this place nearby on the riverfront. I forgot what it was called, but I had some of the best steak there that I've ever had. Cooch I believe got steak fajitas. He seemed to enjoy his food, too.
After our meal, it was time to head to Miller Park to watch the Yankees and Brewers. To our surprise, we got to see "the Big Unit" Randy Johnson pitch for the Yankees. We had no idea he was pitching because we never checked, but it was a nice surprise. With us being die hard Sox fans, we were rooting for the unit to get shelled like a fucking oyster.
Unit didn't exactly get shelled, but that big ugly bastahd was laboring the entire night. He was over 100 pitches at the end of five innings. Milwaukee had jumped out to a 3-0 lead on him, but the Yankees came back and tied it at 3-3 when Brew Crew starter Doug Davis couldn't find the strike zone all of a sudden.
It stayed tied 3-3 until Junior Spivey jacked a solo shot off the Unit to give the Brewers a 4-3 lead.
Score stayed that way into the 9th. Brewers brought closer Turnbow into the game, who is one of the select few big leaguers sporting a mullet. Someone should tell him the 80's called and they want their mullet back.
Anyway, shit got tense in the 9th. Yanks put a couple of baserunners on with either zero or one out. Looked like they were gonna tie it. But the game ended when the right fielder made a nice running catch on a liner by Jeter. It was a sweet catch that ended up being a Sportscenter Top Play.
What a way to start the trip...seeing the Yankees lose.
The Yankees weren't the only thing to fall in Milwaukee that night. On our way out to our car, which took about an hour to find (Stevie Wonder has better navagational skills), we spot this woman in the parking lot laying unconscious on her back. A guy was kneeling over her trying to get her to come to her senses. When I first saw her, she looked like she was dead. I was getting ready to perform CPR. Cooch asked the guy if he should call for help. Finally the guy got the woman to show signs of life. She said something inaudible and then passed out again. Never seen anything like that in my life. It had to be that Milwaukee beer.
Alright, I'm at that point in the blog that I have to ask a very important question.
Are any of you still reading this? If you are, you've got an attention span the size of Mallory's watermelon asscheeks.
By the time we got in the car, it was 10:30 and time to drive to Bloomington, IL...which was about 200 miles away.
Leave it to us to get lost.
Now, it didn't help that Wisconsin hasn't adapted to 20th century technology of lights on the highway. We got as far as the Illinois border...then we stopped for gas and asked for directions from two different people. Of course, we got two different sets of directions, which isn't a good combination when you have a couple of guys who are navagationally impaired.
Finally...at 2:30am, we got to our hotel in Bloomington. By that time, we had been awake nearly 24 hours!
What a day! It was time for some much needed sleep...
Tage Inn
Manchester, NH
Did I mention I hate getting up early?
When I say that, I'm not talking about 8:00am early. I'm talking getting up at an hour of the morning so early, the roosters are still sleeping. That's exactly what was in store for the Coochman and myself.
We had arranged for a 4:00am wake-up call (which are always fun) as well as set the alarm on the clock/radio the night before to go off at 4:15, just to cover our asses.
Well, I had woken up around 4, but I was still laying in bed half comatose. Whenever I have to get up that early, I milk every single friggin minute of rest until the utters of time run dry.
It had gotten to be 4:05...then 4:10...still no wake-up call from the front desk. Finally, at 4:15 the alarm goes off. This wakes Cooch out of his deep sleep. He then gets out of bed and hits the shower.
While Cooch was in the shower, at 4:23, our wake-up call finally came. They were only 23 minutes late, but it was still much appreciated. NOT!
After I showered up, Cooch and I went downstairs for the hotel's complimentary breakfast. Homefolks (a combination of homeboys and homegirls) at the Tage Inn spared no expense. They had a Belgian Waffle iron along with cups of waffle batter for guests to make their own waffles. At 5:00am, Cooch and I were the first ones down there, and we took full advantage of the waffles. That was some good shizzle.
After downing the waffles, it was time to head to the airport. To our dismay, Mallory the Shuttle wench wasn't working first shift. Cooch and I were hoping she did shuttling 24/7, but she let us down. We just needed that bubbly personality that early in the morning. But the only thing bubbly on Mallory was her ass, belly, and flapjack arms. (Mallory, if you're reading this, I'm only kidding. If you're not, I'm not kidding and mean everything I say. Just to show you how bad I feel, enjoy a few cookies at the front desk...on me).
Fast forward to the flight to Chicago, which was uneventful for the most part. We got in around 7:45 central time. Both our cell phones automatically adjusted the clock to reflect central time, which was effin cool. I don't get out of the eastern time zone too much, so seeing the clock on my phone changing had me awe-struck.
Next order of bidness once we were at Chicago Midway was get our luggage at baggage claim. I think we each had one bag, and if I recall we didn't have to wait long for 'em.
After getting our luggage, it was time to pick up our rental car at Budget, which was located in the airport parking garage. Leave it to our retarded, no navigation skills selves to have trouble finding the fucking thing. We must have walked around in circles three times and went upstairs once or twice for no reason at all. Finally, we came to our senses and asked the chick at the Budget counter where to go, since apparantly her directions didn't register the first time. Half of us mentally was still asleep at the Tage Inn in Manchester.
About a half hour later, we finally found the Budget station in the parking garage, got our car, and from there, we were off to Wisconsin.
Our jaunt to Milwaukee was deathly boring. We got a crash course on what it was like to drive in Wisconsin. If you find miles upon miles of grass fields and farmland interesting, then driving in Wisconsin is for you, but the rest of us...find some other forms of entertainment because the scenery sure ain't gonna give you any.
Eventually, when we regained our bearings, we hit a local mall to get some info on the local attractions. One place we decided to hit was the Harley-Davidson plant about 15 minutes to the north. So that's what we did. It was a pretty cool. We got a narrated tour of the plant. Since it was so loud in there, our tour guide handed out headsets. The guide spoke into a microphone which was supposed to resonate into our headsets, but I could barely pick out a cotdamn thing. I must have gotten the headset from Mars or something. But it was pretty interesting to actually go into the factory where they make Harley's and check out the process that goes into making those kick-ass bikes.
As good as the Harley tour was, it paled in comparison to the one tour I was looking forward to doing in Milwaukee- the Miller Brewing Plant tour.
That tour was solid, even taking into account that our tour was hijacked by Will. When he skipped into the auditorium with his little flower basket by his side and daisy in his hair, my gaydar started going crazy. Not to mention it was a real wood killer considering we had a cute chick leading us into the auditorium for the introductory film on Miller Beer.
Overall, the tour was real good, but it could have done without Richard Simmons' Godson. The best part of the tour was easily the free beer! We claimed our beer in the famed Miller Beer Garden. It's amazing how fresh the beer tastes at the plant versus at the bar or in a restaurant when it's already lost some of its freshness. Cooch and I agreed that the complimentary beer was excellent. Each of us went back for three.
They even offered people a chance to send postcards (postage paid) to people, so Cooch and I cranked out a few posties to peeps back home.
After the tours, we were starving like mofos. We were looking for this one place to eat, but we were never able to find it because the numbering on the street was all fucked up, so we settled on eating at this place nearby on the riverfront. I forgot what it was called, but I had some of the best steak there that I've ever had. Cooch I believe got steak fajitas. He seemed to enjoy his food, too.
After our meal, it was time to head to Miller Park to watch the Yankees and Brewers. To our surprise, we got to see "the Big Unit" Randy Johnson pitch for the Yankees. We had no idea he was pitching because we never checked, but it was a nice surprise. With us being die hard Sox fans, we were rooting for the unit to get shelled like a fucking oyster.
Unit didn't exactly get shelled, but that big ugly bastahd was laboring the entire night. He was over 100 pitches at the end of five innings. Milwaukee had jumped out to a 3-0 lead on him, but the Yankees came back and tied it at 3-3 when Brew Crew starter Doug Davis couldn't find the strike zone all of a sudden.
It stayed tied 3-3 until Junior Spivey jacked a solo shot off the Unit to give the Brewers a 4-3 lead.
Score stayed that way into the 9th. Brewers brought closer Turnbow into the game, who is one of the select few big leaguers sporting a mullet. Someone should tell him the 80's called and they want their mullet back.
Anyway, shit got tense in the 9th. Yanks put a couple of baserunners on with either zero or one out. Looked like they were gonna tie it. But the game ended when the right fielder made a nice running catch on a liner by Jeter. It was a sweet catch that ended up being a Sportscenter Top Play.
What a way to start the trip...seeing the Yankees lose.
The Yankees weren't the only thing to fall in Milwaukee that night. On our way out to our car, which took about an hour to find (Stevie Wonder has better navagational skills), we spot this woman in the parking lot laying unconscious on her back. A guy was kneeling over her trying to get her to come to her senses. When I first saw her, she looked like she was dead. I was getting ready to perform CPR. Cooch asked the guy if he should call for help. Finally the guy got the woman to show signs of life. She said something inaudible and then passed out again. Never seen anything like that in my life. It had to be that Milwaukee beer.
Alright, I'm at that point in the blog that I have to ask a very important question.
Are any of you still reading this? If you are, you've got an attention span the size of Mallory's watermelon asscheeks.
By the time we got in the car, it was 10:30 and time to drive to Bloomington, IL...which was about 200 miles away.
Leave it to us to get lost.
Now, it didn't help that Wisconsin hasn't adapted to 20th century technology of lights on the highway. We got as far as the Illinois border...then we stopped for gas and asked for directions from two different people. Of course, we got two different sets of directions, which isn't a good combination when you have a couple of guys who are navagationally impaired.
Finally...at 2:30am, we got to our hotel in Bloomington. By that time, we had been awake nearly 24 hours!
What a day! It was time for some much needed sleep...
Sunday, June 05, 2005
2005 MLB Midwest Tour Chronicles: Day 1
A Dolefully Ominous Beginning...
DAY 1: June 5 2005
Severe scattered thunderstorms and tornadic activity forced Lavinius and Cooch to change their original flight plans - instead of arriving at Chicago Midway Airport by 6:35 p.m. via Southwest Airlines flight 709 (out of the Manchester, NH airport), they chose to take the 6:30 a.m. flight 1541 the following morning.
Overnight accomodations: The Tage Inn in Manchester, NH. With complimentary shuttle service to/fro the airport and the Manchester area, there really wasn't much of a decision to make regarding our overnight stay. Shuttle service was "gladly" rendered by Mallory (aka The Shuttle Bitch). I say "gladly" because the bitch had the sense of humor comparible to a bag of rocks - minus the good looks and charm...
We decided to venture out instead of stay couped up in the hotel - our mission was to find some high-quality grub (actually, we didn't care so much about the quality, we were fucking hungry and it was getting late). The receptionist at the Tage Inn suggested Billy's Pub, an apparent well-renkowned sports pub in the area, so Lavinius and I took off, escorted by The Shuttle Bitch.
Let's just say that Billy's Pub was in a shady neighborhood - some Wigga tried to climb an adjacent 3-story aparment complex Spiderman-style [read: scaling the apartment from the outside porches] with a cigarette in his mouth; apparently the cost of the cigarette was much larger than the likely surgery he'd need on his fractured skull, because he didn't want to leave the cigarette behind -- even if that meant he'd plunge to his death since one hand was too busy handling the burning butt instead of gripping the balconies with both hands... Two men on the third floor were drinking beer, encouraging Spiderman to climb upstairs from the outside, rather than use the staircase, which was directly in front of these clowns. Anyway, Spiderman made it without incident - and more importantly, his cigarette was still intact.
Inside Billy's Pub, Lavinius downed some chili and Cooch had a Bison burger - the grub was as good as advertised... Back to the hotel for us, though, because we had a long day ahead...
Day 1 was over. We had little more than 4 hours of sleep before our plane flew out the following day... It was a dolefully ominous beginning to a trip - nasty weather was projected in the Midwest region for the next 10 days...
Severe scattered thunderstorms and tornadic activity forced Lavinius and Cooch to change their original flight plans - instead of arriving at Chicago Midway Airport by 6:35 p.m. via Southwest Airlines flight 709 (out of the Manchester, NH airport), they chose to take the 6:30 a.m. flight 1541 the following morning.
Overnight accomodations: The Tage Inn in Manchester, NH. With complimentary shuttle service to/fro the airport and the Manchester area, there really wasn't much of a decision to make regarding our overnight stay. Shuttle service was "gladly" rendered by Mallory (aka The Shuttle Bitch). I say "gladly" because the bitch had the sense of humor comparible to a bag of rocks - minus the good looks and charm...
We decided to venture out instead of stay couped up in the hotel - our mission was to find some high-quality grub (actually, we didn't care so much about the quality, we were fucking hungry and it was getting late). The receptionist at the Tage Inn suggested Billy's Pub, an apparent well-renkowned sports pub in the area, so Lavinius and I took off, escorted by The Shuttle Bitch.
Let's just say that Billy's Pub was in a shady neighborhood - some Wigga tried to climb an adjacent 3-story aparment complex Spiderman-style [read: scaling the apartment from the outside porches] with a cigarette in his mouth; apparently the cost of the cigarette was much larger than the likely surgery he'd need on his fractured skull, because he didn't want to leave the cigarette behind -- even if that meant he'd plunge to his death since one hand was too busy handling the burning butt instead of gripping the balconies with both hands... Two men on the third floor were drinking beer, encouraging Spiderman to climb upstairs from the outside, rather than use the staircase, which was directly in front of these clowns. Anyway, Spiderman made it without incident - and more importantly, his cigarette was still intact.
Inside Billy's Pub, Lavinius downed some chili and Cooch had a Bison burger - the grub was as good as advertised... Back to the hotel for us, though, because we had a long day ahead...
Day 1 was over. We had little more than 4 hours of sleep before our plane flew out the following day... It was a dolefully ominous beginning to a trip - nasty weather was projected in the Midwest region for the next 10 days...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
