And now... because I can..
Sep. 5th, 2007 04:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joegodaMy version of Sunday... and Monday, of course.
First off, let me say that I don't like weddings. There are many reasons for this, and I'll tell you if you ask me, but as Bags and Grizelda would say, "Really... don't ask him. Really."
Now, having said that, It was a magical, wonderful, marvelous adventure.
It started at 7am on Sunday morning, when I decided that 5 hours sleep is enough time for anybody, especially when there are places to go, people to do and things to see. No... wait. Scratch that, reverse it. Or not.
We drove to pick up Mr. Tim, which we did and then turned the car around and headed NORTH! A great direction which coincided with where we were heading. We had no map, because I carried it in my head. Not the safest place, perhaps, but there you are. I had google mapped the route we were taking, and the location of the Motel we were staying at, so that part was covered. It was all photogenically imprinted in my tiny lil pointed head.
Zoom, Zoom, Zoom! Off we went like a ruptured duck, flying through the Will Rogers Turnpike like it didn't matter, which it didn't. We were going Places! Do I remember the Will Rogers Turnpike? This is what I remember Tim saying: "That place was called the Glass House when I was a kid." I said, "Yeah, I remember they sold toys!" It is now the world's largest *cough* McDonalds. It really isn't, cuz the McD is pretty much smaller than my apartment (603 sq ft), but they claim the whole building. Bastards.
Zoom, Zoom, Zoom! Giant Mushroom! Robert Heilein Museum which somehow isn't anywhere in Butler, MO, but the signs are! Looking for the Hooker Tractor, which sports a giant purple bra!
Zoom, Zoom, Zoom! Screech! Is this the exit? Why, yes, yes it is! But... check-in isn't until 2 pm, Says I. 12:45 says Mr. Clock on the Dash. Oh, We'll get in, Says Grizelda. Yeah, Says Bags.
Is this the exit? No... wait... Yes... or in other words... no. It's that one over THERE!
Swoop into the Rodeway (not roadway... how odd), and sure enough to Grizelda, Sherry checks us in like she's been doing it all her life and is known to all the people in the world. And she probably is.
Our rooms, our Suite, is upstairs, and is 213 and 213A. There is a door that I open that says "Do not open this door." I just had to, you know? It connected to the other Suite! Sweet! We should hold a convention here or something.
This Motel was about 10 miles from anywhere, and 15 miles from everywhere, and 20 miles from the Faire. I loved that place! It's just not quite to Grandview. People there were pretty much scum of the earth, fixing their cars out in the parking lots, walking around with shielded eyes wondering which pocket you carry your wallet in. Fooled them! I carry it in front, and not in a pocket! Indoor heated swimming pool, full breakfast in the AM, it was just a great place to say for ONE night.
So, after having dropped our bags, or Bags' bag anyway, we swooped down the stairs and headed to the Faire Grounds, which nobody in the car had ever been to. No problem! It was all stored in my hefty brain.
This is the reason, by the way, why I may never, ever forget your face. Your name is a different matter and lives in a whole nother zip code in my brain. I don't visit that neighborhood too often. I'm what you call a semi-photographic. If you were wearing a name tag, I'd remember your name. If you say it out loud, fergit it. Ask Sherry. I don't remember many of the conversations, and even the ones that I do remember, I don't remember well. And if you tell me something in confidence and then tell me to forget it? Hey presto! It's gone, outta here, history.
Zoom, Zoom, Zoom! And they let me drive, silly people. Didn't kill anyone THAT day, let me tell you. Found the right exit, turned the wrong way, which was the right way, because we needed gas anyway. Got back on the road and Zoom! To the Faire we went.
Now, we had no friggin' idea where we were going once we got there. Tim, er... Bags, walked up to the Will Call, because we thought we were getting comps or something like that. He tossed the name Susi Matthews (yes, it's now defunct) around and the Will Call window says "Try over there!"
Trudge, trudge, over there we went. "Ummm... you should probably go to the media entrance." And that is.... Where? asked the Brave Bags. "It's over there... just keep going, you can't miss it." They have obviously never dealt with us!
Trudge, trudge, over there we went. A gate. A small gate. A gate with a guy sitting at a table who said, I think, "You need to go to the Will Call gate."
Um. No. Bags puffed up, and he obviously let the guy sitting at the table cleaning his nails know that he was a person of PERSONAGE.
"Oh, hell", said the guy. "Just go on in." Score 1 for BP&G, 0 for the evil in the world. That's how I'm getting in to every Faire I ever go to!
Colors, sounds, sights, smells! Wondrous, wondrous! I could have spent the better part of a week just looking and seeing and hearing and smelling. Walk, wander, walk, wonder. It was Fantabulous!
Sherry sees someone she knows at a booth. Unknown to me, but what the heck. She looks friendly. Maybe she'll bite. I look at some of their wares and listen to friendly chatter for a bit, then off we go.
We're on a quest, you see. We're looking for the PERFECT Bags hat. Rumor has it that PB&G will be touring next year, wandering from Faire to Faire, in costume! Ren Faire folks from a distant Galaxy! How very cool is that?
Suddenly Tim calls Sherry, or, in otherwords, Bags calls Grizelda into a stall. It's a hat stall. It's a hat shop. A millinery shop, if you will. It's the Lionheart Hat shop. And there, on a peg, not quite out of Pockets' reach sat a hat, pointy and proud and covered with stars. Perhaps not a Pockets hat, but a marvelous hat, all in all. It called to me. I called back. It invited me to tea! I asked what kind. It said Raspberry with lemon! I say Ummm.. maybe some other time.
BUT.... I struck up a conversation with Ms. Kathel Miller-Smith, who made such hats and we chatted for a good long while, not because either of us were wonderful conversationalists, but because, you see, she had this wonderful face. Lined, delicate, pretty of form and character in age. I have seen such faces as this rarely in my life. I beheld one at a wedding in March, and these are faces that I could sit across and look at and breathe in for days and days and never starve for the simple feast these faces would feed me would sustain my very soul.
Thank goodness Bags and Griz had already left, else I might still be there. Entranced, I was! Bewitched, I was! I have two of her business cards, just in case I need a hat.
Out the door like Hansel from a Gingerbread house, I went in search of the friends who had left me to the demons. No! That's not true. They left to find drink! And they did, and I followed them, because that's what I do.
We talked to two bar wenches... whose names I of course, forget. They were lovely people, and served us even though I talked to them. We listened to some really good Bagpipes and drum. Heard some really bad BagPipe and Drum humor, and drank some Flying Monkey Ale! HmmmmmmMonkeys!
From there, we met up with the illustrious Jenny of Oz, and after taking her emotive temperature, wandered on, and on, and on. I was, after all, there to make sure that Jenny of Oz was okdoke. That was my job. To poke at her so that she would laugh. If you ever need someone to just poke at you to make you laugh, I'm your man. Cheap. And, I practice humor. Not necessarily children's humor, but humor where you don't have to wake up the next morning and wonder if you need to take a shot or a pill of if you have to name your next joke after me. Safe humor. Raincoat humor.
Now, if you were to ask me of all the places we went, no idea. There are really only 3 places in my universe. Here, there, and home. If I'm here, then over there is there. If I'm neither here nor there, then I'm home. If I'm not at home, then I'm either here, or I'm there. None of the three have boundaries that touch. It's just like that spot in my brain where your name is located, but I never forget your face. You can go a hundred years, and I'll recognize you, for sure and true. Because, you see, your face is HOME. It's neither here, nor there. And home is where the heart is, and your face is always with my heart.
Wonder, wander, touch things, look at goods, smell incense that smells like real leather! I think I got a card from that place. Maybe. I love cards. They let me know where I've been, when I can't remember here or there.
Climb a hill, smell yummy smells, see women that will become very sore from sunburn in places their bosses would rarely look if asked in court. Griz bought her Royal hair thingy! It was b e a utiful! Talked to the gent who made it. He's an Ex Astrophysicist. Very cool. Talked to him until his science bored me, because there were other things to see! Ended up talking to the woman that works in the same shop because... well... that's what I do. Skinny and lined from years in the sun, smart woman, and no, I didn't get a card. Interesting face, but not that interesting. Pockets was starting to get bored with talking... he wanted to DO!
Wander up a hill again, some more. Pass the place where you can play darts! Darts that made odd sounds. And there we were!
Queen's Gambit was playing, and of course, we watched and listened and watched and listened. The marvelous Kevin was there, and some of his motley crew as well. Well met, Kevin! And Crew! (and yes, I don't remember their names, but their faces are there!)
I love watching nervous performers who aren't nervous because they are performing. They are nervous because they are GETTING MARRIED! To EACH OTHER! THAT very DAY!
The great and marvelous thing is that unless you watch for the tells, unless you see what you are looking for, unless you know what to look for in the first place, you would never have known it. I'm so glad that I have been hearing them for a few years now. They have grown in Depth, Breadth and their sound is such that you know they are having a ball. Not just any ball. A ball with many colors, and shifts in sizes and floats from patron to patron, who pick it up and pass it along till it comes back to the performers, lovingly touched by all who have heard their music and their heart.
They broke for a bit, and a flautist took the stage. I, being me, and it's who I am, was speaking too loudly, and Bruce, being him, being who he is, rightly did glance my way and flourish his bushy eyebrows. Me, being me, didn't quite get it at first, but then I stopped and listened. She was very good, and worth the time and attention. In fact, I watched her last set of the day, whistled quietly with her while she toodled and loved that she played a glass flute. I think I took 3 or 5 pictures of her. I'm glad Bruce shusshed me, because she was worth the shusshing for.
Kevin and I wandered a bit between sets. Went down to the fortune tellers. I could have gotten a quicky for five dollars. This means one question answered... for five dollars. My question, which I got for free, was "Which deck do you use?" That's just how sneaky I am! I don't remember the name of the deck, but I'll never forget the face cards.
I also go to see wool and cashmere woven into yarn! I mean, I know how it's done. Intellectually, it's fairly easy to understand the process of cleaning, carding, spinning and weaving. But to actually see it and touch it! Ooooooooh... soft! Thanks, Kevin, for indulging me on my searchings.
We at some food that was... generally food like. It had a foody texture. I don't know if I would call it what they called it, but it was life sustaining after a fashion. I had a pork tenderloin, which I had not had since I left Indiana. This was more like a ... umm... cardboard tenderloin, with some sort of pork like taste added. Still, it was Fun! And that's the point, iddn't it?
Then came time to get ready for a wedding. We wandered down to where the Chapel was. I saw a cookie stand that smelled like cookies. I had been smelling cookies all day long and by the Gods and Goddesses, I was gonna have me a cookie! However, they had no cookies. They baked me a cookie, but someone else eated it. It still smelled of cookies! It had a cookie aura! A Cookie Essence, if you will, but it was all form and no substance. *sigh* I bought a root beer instead. Poor substitute for a cookie. And not as chewy.
I liked the Chapel. It was nicely done with cool stained glass windows. Not super extra-ordinary stained glass windows, mind you. They looked ordinary, but the place just felt... reverent. Churches always do that to me, make me quiet and humble. Yes... quiet, even. They do it right after they surprise me by not causing me to burst into flame. Has it ever happened, you might ask... this bursting into flame? Well.... there was this one time...... and a nun.... but that's a whole nuther story.
Notice that there is not much mention so far of my charge, the indomitable Jenny of Oz? That's because she was fine, fine as frog's hair, fine as sunshine on a windswept winter's snowy day. Did she need me? Not one whit, not a titter or a swit. She was so fine that, by this time, she was even gone! Went somewhere else to be somewhere else. Probably over there. But I knew she was safe, because my safeometer did not go off even a little bit.
Time to get dressed. Or, rather, for Bags and Griz to get dressed. Me, I just wear what I have because I've gotten so friggin huge, I have no other clothes to wear. *sniff* Good thing that I wasn't the one to be up on stage or even get noticed.
We wandered in the direction we were going, only to be told by a reception lady, who was really a lady, that we needed to go in the entirely opposite direction. Across the grounds. To the Main Gate. You see, we needed to be There, rather than Here. It was one of THOSE things.
Back at the car, Bags tossed on his shirt, and Griz her dress and they both looked like the visiting royalty they are (to me, if not to anyone else. And if not to you, then hell with you! They're my bestest buds.) (just kidding bout that hell with you thing. Seriously, they looked quite grand to me. Griz in her blue gown and matching hair piece, and Bags looking like the dashing war hero he has always been. Not too dressed up, but certainly royal, regardless)
Then back to the Grove we went, to find our seats in front of an incredible pair of visitors whom I do not know (Tracy, Stacy? Hell... it's a name! She did have this face, though) And Victor, who was a Cossack, and another gent, who was also a Cossack, but I didn't catch his name. I did catch his face. A face that showed he was easy to laugh, with shining eyes, a big bushy mustache and yellow boots! Wonderful hat, too, by the way.
They were a fun trio and put up with me talking in my pseudo Slovakian Accent. She really was descended from Transylvania and I really am descended from Slovakia. Her people probably oppressed my people for centuries. It's all forgivable, of course. She had this face, you see.
Then came the waiting. Then came... the waiting. I'm very good at waiting. I sometimes wonder about the people that turn and look at me and move away. I don't think they are very good at waiting. But me? I'm excellent at waiting! And I'm an excellent driver too!
Got to see the Doc and his wife, which is always a nice surprise. See you at the Pub, Doc (it's Craig, right?)!
I got to talk to Mechelle, and see Bill with his new toy, and see Star, magnificent as aways (she has a face too, and a heart, and a soul, and a thousand kajillion magical things. I didn't get one of her cards either.) If I had not restrained myself (happens rarely), I would have applauded and laughed with Joy when I saw her do a blessing on the west, clearing the path for all good and positive, moving evil and bad intent out of the way. It was a trip down kundalini memory lane, let me tell you. I hadn't seen that since ... well... before most of you were born, and here it was in Kansas of all places!
Jenny came over to stand by me, I'm sure to keep me from being kicked out of the place. She did an excellent job, what with her little sniffles and all. I understand that happens a lot at weddings. Pushed the protectorate button in me, so I stayed beside her the whole time. Besides, Griz told me that if I didn't, she'd hit me, and she hits HARD.
The wedding was, in my opinion, well crafted, full of love, full of white light and marvelous. It was, indeed, a magical thing and a joy to all that attended it, I believe.
Then there was a reception. With food. And drink. And I left with Michelle, Bill's wife to go move the car, so we wouldn't have to walk all the way back to the main gate in the pitch black, and good thing, too, cuz I've seen THAT movie! Thanks Michelle! And I probably spelled your name wrong, but I remember your face!
During the trip to get the car, I got to meet Squirelly Girl! For real and true! She's as cute as I remembered when I wrote her. Her name on this planet is Megan. Yay Me! I remembered ONE!
And there was an Alrescate, who also has a marvelous face. She tried a booby salute, but her face shone so much better. No offense to your cleavage ma'am. It was indeed very nice, but I figure if I can't touch it, taste it, or smell it, what's the point of temptation? Better to remember a face, than to not remember a cleavage (but then, I'm semi photographic, so it's in there, somewhere). And how do you pronounce that name? As in "I'll Risk It"?
And there was a BleuBeri21, too, who toodles so brightly, brightly with much beauty as a part of Queen's Gambit. Woo hoo! She also has a great face, which is how I remembered her, and a young face at that. I think she gets her face from her mother, who stood behind her while I gushed over her playing. I liked her mother's face as well.
Now, it was wonderful, and it was marvelous, and I was glad it was over. Getting home was another adventure. See, I had the map on how to get there in my head, but I never looked at how to get back. And in the dark it's a whole nuther world. Nightblind in the left eye, not quite 200/20 in the right... I was here, and I needed to get there, but here was dark and I took this wrong turn, you see... left instead of right, up instead of down.
I drove and drove and saw some upy and downy things and places I probably would not have seen had I not been lost. Thank Goodness for the little store somewhere in the middle of Edwardsville that happened to have a Police Officer in it. He said, "Go that way bout 1/4 of a mile and there's 435." I think being nice to him made his day. I guess not many folks are nice to Police Officers.
That was all I needed. EXCEPT.... I wanted 435 south. There was a sign for 435 NORTH, but there was no sign for 435 SOUTH. Oh well.... what's a bit more lost between friends, eh? Screech! U turn! Zoom, Zoom!
Regardless, we made it back to the Motel in one piece. We crashed gently in to our own little crashing spots and soon the night was filled with quiet breathing and soft hearts beating.
Breakfast was pretty much... uh. Coffee for me. You could have had waffles and bacon and sausage. You could have had dry cereal. You could have had bagels. Eventually, just so I could look human, I took a bagel, asked the cook to put an egg circle on it (that's what they were! Egg circles!) and then put a sausage circle on that. My own Sausage, egg and bagel thingy.
We left the motel, checking out like we checked in, by the force of Griz. We drove to Independence (*yes, they let me drive AGAIN!*), where we met up with Bill and Michelle. We had decided to go to Fritz' Train eatery place, rather than the Khan's Mongolian Bar B Que place. Just as well. I think it was more fun and I've never eaten a Mongolian before. What do you do with the bones? spit 'em out? Wear them in your hair? In your nose? I dunno.
Bill and Michelle took us on this incredible journey through and around Kansas City, showing us and telling us things about the place that only long timers would have known. Entranced and excited, I was like a dog with my head out the window, except the window didn't open, so I hope they eventually get the nose prints out of the glass.
The old Fritz was closed, but that's okay. It was just like the New Fritz' except it was OLD and the new one was in Crowne Center! We ate food that was dropped by metal trays from a train track that ran round the place, and the only negative was that I was sitting right... under... the... whistle! See, I should have been over there, when I was sitting here.
Then, Union Station. Love Union Station. Wandered and shared sadness with Michelle, who knew what it could have been and I believed her because she's who she is. Listened to Bill talk about plastering the ceiling and who should know about plaster better than he? Have you seen their house?
We walked over the freight bridge, and there, in a warehouse, is a pterodactyly! Really! With it's intestine sticking out! It was Sooooo Cool! And a train car! And another train car! and I wanted to jump from that bridge and go walking through the train cars but I think that would have been hard to do because there was a Plexiglas shield so that some fool wouldn't jump down and hit the tracks and cause all sorts of bad press for Union Station. I also think it would have hurt. A lot. Not in a good way, either.
And then.. there was the trip back.... and that's a whole nuther story. Boring. Nuthin but details. And we didn't die, but not from lack of trying (I'm an excellent driver!). Though I did get to see some of the largest Superfund Site in the entire world, got to see the area that Tim grew up in, and got to see why there's times I believe that folks that don't like Oklahoma just simply have not seen the things here that I have. Sunset on the misty hills rolling across the golden wheat fields? *sigh* Makes me all sorts of romantical.
And that was my labor day vacation. Really!
First off, let me say that I don't like weddings. There are many reasons for this, and I'll tell you if you ask me, but as Bags and Grizelda would say, "Really... don't ask him. Really."
Now, having said that, It was a magical, wonderful, marvelous adventure.
It started at 7am on Sunday morning, when I decided that 5 hours sleep is enough time for anybody, especially when there are places to go, people to do and things to see. No... wait. Scratch that, reverse it. Or not.
We drove to pick up Mr. Tim, which we did and then turned the car around and headed NORTH! A great direction which coincided with where we were heading. We had no map, because I carried it in my head. Not the safest place, perhaps, but there you are. I had google mapped the route we were taking, and the location of the Motel we were staying at, so that part was covered. It was all photogenically imprinted in my tiny lil pointed head.
Zoom, Zoom, Zoom! Off we went like a ruptured duck, flying through the Will Rogers Turnpike like it didn't matter, which it didn't. We were going Places! Do I remember the Will Rogers Turnpike? This is what I remember Tim saying: "That place was called the Glass House when I was a kid." I said, "Yeah, I remember they sold toys!" It is now the world's largest *cough* McDonalds. It really isn't, cuz the McD is pretty much smaller than my apartment (603 sq ft), but they claim the whole building. Bastards.
Zoom, Zoom, Zoom! Giant Mushroom! Robert Heilein Museum which somehow isn't anywhere in Butler, MO, but the signs are! Looking for the Hooker Tractor, which sports a giant purple bra!
Zoom, Zoom, Zoom! Screech! Is this the exit? Why, yes, yes it is! But... check-in isn't until 2 pm, Says I. 12:45 says Mr. Clock on the Dash. Oh, We'll get in, Says Grizelda. Yeah, Says Bags.
Is this the exit? No... wait... Yes... or in other words... no. It's that one over THERE!
Swoop into the Rodeway (not roadway... how odd), and sure enough to Grizelda, Sherry checks us in like she's been doing it all her life and is known to all the people in the world. And she probably is.
Our rooms, our Suite, is upstairs, and is 213 and 213A. There is a door that I open that says "Do not open this door." I just had to, you know? It connected to the other Suite! Sweet! We should hold a convention here or something.
This Motel was about 10 miles from anywhere, and 15 miles from everywhere, and 20 miles from the Faire. I loved that place! It's just not quite to Grandview. People there were pretty much scum of the earth, fixing their cars out in the parking lots, walking around with shielded eyes wondering which pocket you carry your wallet in. Fooled them! I carry it in front, and not in a pocket! Indoor heated swimming pool, full breakfast in the AM, it was just a great place to say for ONE night.
So, after having dropped our bags, or Bags' bag anyway, we swooped down the stairs and headed to the Faire Grounds, which nobody in the car had ever been to. No problem! It was all stored in my hefty brain.
This is the reason, by the way, why I may never, ever forget your face. Your name is a different matter and lives in a whole nother zip code in my brain. I don't visit that neighborhood too often. I'm what you call a semi-photographic. If you were wearing a name tag, I'd remember your name. If you say it out loud, fergit it. Ask Sherry. I don't remember many of the conversations, and even the ones that I do remember, I don't remember well. And if you tell me something in confidence and then tell me to forget it? Hey presto! It's gone, outta here, history.
Zoom, Zoom, Zoom! And they let me drive, silly people. Didn't kill anyone THAT day, let me tell you. Found the right exit, turned the wrong way, which was the right way, because we needed gas anyway. Got back on the road and Zoom! To the Faire we went.
Now, we had no friggin' idea where we were going once we got there. Tim, er... Bags, walked up to the Will Call, because we thought we were getting comps or something like that. He tossed the name Susi Matthews (yes, it's now defunct) around and the Will Call window says "Try over there!"
Trudge, trudge, over there we went. "Ummm... you should probably go to the media entrance." And that is.... Where? asked the Brave Bags. "It's over there... just keep going, you can't miss it." They have obviously never dealt with us!
Trudge, trudge, over there we went. A gate. A small gate. A gate with a guy sitting at a table who said, I think, "You need to go to the Will Call gate."
Um. No. Bags puffed up, and he obviously let the guy sitting at the table cleaning his nails know that he was a person of PERSONAGE.
"Oh, hell", said the guy. "Just go on in." Score 1 for BP&G, 0 for the evil in the world. That's how I'm getting in to every Faire I ever go to!
Colors, sounds, sights, smells! Wondrous, wondrous! I could have spent the better part of a week just looking and seeing and hearing and smelling. Walk, wander, walk, wonder. It was Fantabulous!
Sherry sees someone she knows at a booth. Unknown to me, but what the heck. She looks friendly. Maybe she'll bite. I look at some of their wares and listen to friendly chatter for a bit, then off we go.
We're on a quest, you see. We're looking for the PERFECT Bags hat. Rumor has it that PB&G will be touring next year, wandering from Faire to Faire, in costume! Ren Faire folks from a distant Galaxy! How very cool is that?
Suddenly Tim calls Sherry, or, in otherwords, Bags calls Grizelda into a stall. It's a hat stall. It's a hat shop. A millinery shop, if you will. It's the Lionheart Hat shop. And there, on a peg, not quite out of Pockets' reach sat a hat, pointy and proud and covered with stars. Perhaps not a Pockets hat, but a marvelous hat, all in all. It called to me. I called back. It invited me to tea! I asked what kind. It said Raspberry with lemon! I say Ummm.. maybe some other time.
BUT.... I struck up a conversation with Ms. Kathel Miller-Smith, who made such hats and we chatted for a good long while, not because either of us were wonderful conversationalists, but because, you see, she had this wonderful face. Lined, delicate, pretty of form and character in age. I have seen such faces as this rarely in my life. I beheld one at a wedding in March, and these are faces that I could sit across and look at and breathe in for days and days and never starve for the simple feast these faces would feed me would sustain my very soul.
Thank goodness Bags and Griz had already left, else I might still be there. Entranced, I was! Bewitched, I was! I have two of her business cards, just in case I need a hat.
Out the door like Hansel from a Gingerbread house, I went in search of the friends who had left me to the demons. No! That's not true. They left to find drink! And they did, and I followed them, because that's what I do.
We talked to two bar wenches... whose names I of course, forget. They were lovely people, and served us even though I talked to them. We listened to some really good Bagpipes and drum. Heard some really bad BagPipe and Drum humor, and drank some Flying Monkey Ale! HmmmmmmMonkeys!
From there, we met up with the illustrious Jenny of Oz, and after taking her emotive temperature, wandered on, and on, and on. I was, after all, there to make sure that Jenny of Oz was okdoke. That was my job. To poke at her so that she would laugh. If you ever need someone to just poke at you to make you laugh, I'm your man. Cheap. And, I practice humor. Not necessarily children's humor, but humor where you don't have to wake up the next morning and wonder if you need to take a shot or a pill of if you have to name your next joke after me. Safe humor. Raincoat humor.
Now, if you were to ask me of all the places we went, no idea. There are really only 3 places in my universe. Here, there, and home. If I'm here, then over there is there. If I'm neither here nor there, then I'm home. If I'm not at home, then I'm either here, or I'm there. None of the three have boundaries that touch. It's just like that spot in my brain where your name is located, but I never forget your face. You can go a hundred years, and I'll recognize you, for sure and true. Because, you see, your face is HOME. It's neither here, nor there. And home is where the heart is, and your face is always with my heart.
Wonder, wander, touch things, look at goods, smell incense that smells like real leather! I think I got a card from that place. Maybe. I love cards. They let me know where I've been, when I can't remember here or there.
Climb a hill, smell yummy smells, see women that will become very sore from sunburn in places their bosses would rarely look if asked in court. Griz bought her Royal hair thingy! It was b e a utiful! Talked to the gent who made it. He's an Ex Astrophysicist. Very cool. Talked to him until his science bored me, because there were other things to see! Ended up talking to the woman that works in the same shop because... well... that's what I do. Skinny and lined from years in the sun, smart woman, and no, I didn't get a card. Interesting face, but not that interesting. Pockets was starting to get bored with talking... he wanted to DO!
Wander up a hill again, some more. Pass the place where you can play darts! Darts that made odd sounds. And there we were!
Queen's Gambit was playing, and of course, we watched and listened and watched and listened. The marvelous Kevin was there, and some of his motley crew as well. Well met, Kevin! And Crew! (and yes, I don't remember their names, but their faces are there!)
I love watching nervous performers who aren't nervous because they are performing. They are nervous because they are GETTING MARRIED! To EACH OTHER! THAT very DAY!
The great and marvelous thing is that unless you watch for the tells, unless you see what you are looking for, unless you know what to look for in the first place, you would never have known it. I'm so glad that I have been hearing them for a few years now. They have grown in Depth, Breadth and their sound is such that you know they are having a ball. Not just any ball. A ball with many colors, and shifts in sizes and floats from patron to patron, who pick it up and pass it along till it comes back to the performers, lovingly touched by all who have heard their music and their heart.
They broke for a bit, and a flautist took the stage. I, being me, and it's who I am, was speaking too loudly, and Bruce, being him, being who he is, rightly did glance my way and flourish his bushy eyebrows. Me, being me, didn't quite get it at first, but then I stopped and listened. She was very good, and worth the time and attention. In fact, I watched her last set of the day, whistled quietly with her while she toodled and loved that she played a glass flute. I think I took 3 or 5 pictures of her. I'm glad Bruce shusshed me, because she was worth the shusshing for.
Kevin and I wandered a bit between sets. Went down to the fortune tellers. I could have gotten a quicky for five dollars. This means one question answered... for five dollars. My question, which I got for free, was "Which deck do you use?" That's just how sneaky I am! I don't remember the name of the deck, but I'll never forget the face cards.
I also go to see wool and cashmere woven into yarn! I mean, I know how it's done. Intellectually, it's fairly easy to understand the process of cleaning, carding, spinning and weaving. But to actually see it and touch it! Ooooooooh... soft! Thanks, Kevin, for indulging me on my searchings.
We at some food that was... generally food like. It had a foody texture. I don't know if I would call it what they called it, but it was life sustaining after a fashion. I had a pork tenderloin, which I had not had since I left Indiana. This was more like a ... umm... cardboard tenderloin, with some sort of pork like taste added. Still, it was Fun! And that's the point, iddn't it?
Then came time to get ready for a wedding. We wandered down to where the Chapel was. I saw a cookie stand that smelled like cookies. I had been smelling cookies all day long and by the Gods and Goddesses, I was gonna have me a cookie! However, they had no cookies. They baked me a cookie, but someone else eated it. It still smelled of cookies! It had a cookie aura! A Cookie Essence, if you will, but it was all form and no substance. *sigh* I bought a root beer instead. Poor substitute for a cookie. And not as chewy.
I liked the Chapel. It was nicely done with cool stained glass windows. Not super extra-ordinary stained glass windows, mind you. They looked ordinary, but the place just felt... reverent. Churches always do that to me, make me quiet and humble. Yes... quiet, even. They do it right after they surprise me by not causing me to burst into flame. Has it ever happened, you might ask... this bursting into flame? Well.... there was this one time...... and a nun.... but that's a whole nuther story.
Notice that there is not much mention so far of my charge, the indomitable Jenny of Oz? That's because she was fine, fine as frog's hair, fine as sunshine on a windswept winter's snowy day. Did she need me? Not one whit, not a titter or a swit. She was so fine that, by this time, she was even gone! Went somewhere else to be somewhere else. Probably over there. But I knew she was safe, because my safeometer did not go off even a little bit.
Time to get dressed. Or, rather, for Bags and Griz to get dressed. Me, I just wear what I have because I've gotten so friggin huge, I have no other clothes to wear. *sniff* Good thing that I wasn't the one to be up on stage or even get noticed.
We wandered in the direction we were going, only to be told by a reception lady, who was really a lady, that we needed to go in the entirely opposite direction. Across the grounds. To the Main Gate. You see, we needed to be There, rather than Here. It was one of THOSE things.
Back at the car, Bags tossed on his shirt, and Griz her dress and they both looked like the visiting royalty they are (to me, if not to anyone else. And if not to you, then hell with you! They're my bestest buds.) (just kidding bout that hell with you thing. Seriously, they looked quite grand to me. Griz in her blue gown and matching hair piece, and Bags looking like the dashing war hero he has always been. Not too dressed up, but certainly royal, regardless)
Then back to the Grove we went, to find our seats in front of an incredible pair of visitors whom I do not know (Tracy, Stacy? Hell... it's a name! She did have this face, though) And Victor, who was a Cossack, and another gent, who was also a Cossack, but I didn't catch his name. I did catch his face. A face that showed he was easy to laugh, with shining eyes, a big bushy mustache and yellow boots! Wonderful hat, too, by the way.
They were a fun trio and put up with me talking in my pseudo Slovakian Accent. She really was descended from Transylvania and I really am descended from Slovakia. Her people probably oppressed my people for centuries. It's all forgivable, of course. She had this face, you see.
Then came the waiting. Then came... the waiting. I'm very good at waiting. I sometimes wonder about the people that turn and look at me and move away. I don't think they are very good at waiting. But me? I'm excellent at waiting! And I'm an excellent driver too!
Got to see the Doc and his wife, which is always a nice surprise. See you at the Pub, Doc (it's Craig, right?)!
I got to talk to Mechelle, and see Bill with his new toy, and see Star, magnificent as aways (she has a face too, and a heart, and a soul, and a thousand kajillion magical things. I didn't get one of her cards either.) If I had not restrained myself (happens rarely), I would have applauded and laughed with Joy when I saw her do a blessing on the west, clearing the path for all good and positive, moving evil and bad intent out of the way. It was a trip down kundalini memory lane, let me tell you. I hadn't seen that since ... well... before most of you were born, and here it was in Kansas of all places!
Jenny came over to stand by me, I'm sure to keep me from being kicked out of the place. She did an excellent job, what with her little sniffles and all. I understand that happens a lot at weddings. Pushed the protectorate button in me, so I stayed beside her the whole time. Besides, Griz told me that if I didn't, she'd hit me, and she hits HARD.
The wedding was, in my opinion, well crafted, full of love, full of white light and marvelous. It was, indeed, a magical thing and a joy to all that attended it, I believe.
Then there was a reception. With food. And drink. And I left with Michelle, Bill's wife to go move the car, so we wouldn't have to walk all the way back to the main gate in the pitch black, and good thing, too, cuz I've seen THAT movie! Thanks Michelle! And I probably spelled your name wrong, but I remember your face!
During the trip to get the car, I got to meet Squirelly Girl! For real and true! She's as cute as I remembered when I wrote her. Her name on this planet is Megan. Yay Me! I remembered ONE!
And there was an Alrescate, who also has a marvelous face. She tried a booby salute, but her face shone so much better. No offense to your cleavage ma'am. It was indeed very nice, but I figure if I can't touch it, taste it, or smell it, what's the point of temptation? Better to remember a face, than to not remember a cleavage (but then, I'm semi photographic, so it's in there, somewhere). And how do you pronounce that name? As in "I'll Risk It"?
And there was a BleuBeri21, too, who toodles so brightly, brightly with much beauty as a part of Queen's Gambit. Woo hoo! She also has a great face, which is how I remembered her, and a young face at that. I think she gets her face from her mother, who stood behind her while I gushed over her playing. I liked her mother's face as well.
Now, it was wonderful, and it was marvelous, and I was glad it was over. Getting home was another adventure. See, I had the map on how to get there in my head, but I never looked at how to get back. And in the dark it's a whole nuther world. Nightblind in the left eye, not quite 200/20 in the right... I was here, and I needed to get there, but here was dark and I took this wrong turn, you see... left instead of right, up instead of down.
I drove and drove and saw some upy and downy things and places I probably would not have seen had I not been lost. Thank Goodness for the little store somewhere in the middle of Edwardsville that happened to have a Police Officer in it. He said, "Go that way bout 1/4 of a mile and there's 435." I think being nice to him made his day. I guess not many folks are nice to Police Officers.
That was all I needed. EXCEPT.... I wanted 435 south. There was a sign for 435 NORTH, but there was no sign for 435 SOUTH. Oh well.... what's a bit more lost between friends, eh? Screech! U turn! Zoom, Zoom!
Regardless, we made it back to the Motel in one piece. We crashed gently in to our own little crashing spots and soon the night was filled with quiet breathing and soft hearts beating.
Breakfast was pretty much... uh. Coffee for me. You could have had waffles and bacon and sausage. You could have had dry cereal. You could have had bagels. Eventually, just so I could look human, I took a bagel, asked the cook to put an egg circle on it (that's what they were! Egg circles!) and then put a sausage circle on that. My own Sausage, egg and bagel thingy.
We left the motel, checking out like we checked in, by the force of Griz. We drove to Independence (*yes, they let me drive AGAIN!*), where we met up with Bill and Michelle. We had decided to go to Fritz' Train eatery place, rather than the Khan's Mongolian Bar B Que place. Just as well. I think it was more fun and I've never eaten a Mongolian before. What do you do with the bones? spit 'em out? Wear them in your hair? In your nose? I dunno.
Bill and Michelle took us on this incredible journey through and around Kansas City, showing us and telling us things about the place that only long timers would have known. Entranced and excited, I was like a dog with my head out the window, except the window didn't open, so I hope they eventually get the nose prints out of the glass.
The old Fritz was closed, but that's okay. It was just like the New Fritz' except it was OLD and the new one was in Crowne Center! We ate food that was dropped by metal trays from a train track that ran round the place, and the only negative was that I was sitting right... under... the... whistle! See, I should have been over there, when I was sitting here.
Then, Union Station. Love Union Station. Wandered and shared sadness with Michelle, who knew what it could have been and I believed her because she's who she is. Listened to Bill talk about plastering the ceiling and who should know about plaster better than he? Have you seen their house?
We walked over the freight bridge, and there, in a warehouse, is a pterodactyly! Really! With it's intestine sticking out! It was Sooooo Cool! And a train car! And another train car! and I wanted to jump from that bridge and go walking through the train cars but I think that would have been hard to do because there was a Plexiglas shield so that some fool wouldn't jump down and hit the tracks and cause all sorts of bad press for Union Station. I also think it would have hurt. A lot. Not in a good way, either.
And then.. there was the trip back.... and that's a whole nuther story. Boring. Nuthin but details. And we didn't die, but not from lack of trying (I'm an excellent driver!). Though I did get to see some of the largest Superfund Site in the entire world, got to see the area that Tim grew up in, and got to see why there's times I believe that folks that don't like Oklahoma just simply have not seen the things here that I have. Sunset on the misty hills rolling across the golden wheat fields? *sigh* Makes me all sorts of romantical.
And that was my labor day vacation. Really!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:01 am (UTC)Melissa=Michelle=
Berkie=Brooke=
BleuBeri21=Nikki=
Me= Bummed that I missed Craig and Alicia. Poo. They give awesome hugs.
You= My dearest Pockets, and my only Pockets, which is convenient, when you think on it. You might think one could never have too many Pockets, buut you would be wrong, 'cause you only need one when it is you.
Glad you enjoyed your visit to KCRF!! And I can't wait to see what kind of hat you wind up with.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:26 am (UTC)My Mom says that when I was little I called myself "Sissy" and Missy just sort of happened from that and the fact that Michelle was a big name for a little toddler.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:37 am (UTC)But for me to call myself Chet is just plain wrong.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 03:04 am (UTC)I grok that. In my own Missy way, of course.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 04:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:19 am (UTC)What day would be good for you to come into town for pubbin? Cuz.. I happen to know that special arrangements are made for special folks. And I'm not talking short bus special. I'm talking True to the heart, red-blooded, you make me glad to be alive and a friend sort of special.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:26 am (UTC)This weekend is kind of busy, with the boyfriend and I taking Smog to the zoo...first meeting with them and all....*bites fingernails*
Actually, I'm not really nervous, because they are eager to meet each other and have tons in common and look, I'm babbling.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:32 am (UTC)Quite wild.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:49 am (UTC)Maybe you are rubbing off on me.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:53 am (UTC)You, without a doubt, are you, completely and unadulterated. That is one of the joys of knowing you. Like most of the women I know and admire, your force of will almost intimidates me. Hell, it does intimidate me. I get shy around you folk. But I do plan to steal that quote for some part of this current story.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 03:13 am (UTC)*giggles*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 03:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:44 am (UTC)Besides, you deserve to grin as much as you want! OH! OH! I just realized that with your grin, that big grin you get sometimes, that you resemble the original woodcut of the Cheshire Cat! Now, that's just cool! Cept for the pupils. That would be just scary. And the whiskers. but those would just tickle. Or... so I would think.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:46 am (UTC)That's me....but Lioness rather than Cheshire!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:50 am (UTC)*hee*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:45 am (UTC)odd comment unsues...
Date: 2007-09-06 02:19 am (UTC)SECOND of all, I'm reaming somebody at the Media Booth since the list was right THERE, dammit! I saw it with my own eyes, somebody was being careless and I will find out who it was (the regular person is an old friend.)
*hee* And thanks for the lovely compliment about QG; and twasn't exactly nervous, but exhilarated, well, you know.
I could So tell you stories about those fortune-tellers, really!
And thanks, yeah, the wedding was magical. Glad you were there by Jenny, saw you beaming over there.
Um, psssst....it's Michelle, not Melissa and I think you mixed up Berkie with Nikki who is our new whistler/soprano but that's ok 'cause they're bestest friends.
Last but not least, the old Fritz closed down about 15 years ago but there is still another one in KCK.
Love you, dear! Glad you were there!
Re: odd comment unsues...
Date: 2007-09-06 02:26 am (UTC)Second of all, ok. Ream if you wish, but it was really part of the adventure. Sorta like sneaking into heaven or hell and the gate guard being asleep (there's a story there).
The fortune tellers struck me as having the same attitude as old hookers do. And no, you aren't going to get the answer to the obvious question. Unless there's drink involved.
Done fixed! *sigh* Me and names... names and me... Who are you again?
and last.... but... but... but... the building is still there! Still standing! And they added a drive through!
Course, that might explain why they didn't answer their phone....
I only go to ceremonies where the people are important to me. Ceremonies! Ptewwwwiieee! Not a Pockets thing, at all!
Re: odd comment unsues...
Date: 2007-09-06 02:32 am (UTC)Re: odd comment unsues...
Date: 2007-09-06 02:36 am (UTC)Used to go there with the folk from Payless corporate when I worked there...back in the dark ages!
Re: odd comment unsues...
Date: 2007-09-06 02:46 am (UTC)Re: odd comment unsues...
Date: 2007-09-06 02:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:24 pm (UTC)Real names can have tremendous power. That is why cats have three name. One that we know them by, one that other cats know them by and one that is known only to themselves.
I'm not sure why I don't remember names well. It works out fine, though, because folks can call themselves anything they choose. Faces are a bit harder to change.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 04:14 pm (UTC)And yes that is a bear, but he prefers to give bear hugs and I'm sure he wouldn't bare his bear teeth to bite my bare shoulder!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-06 02:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-09-15 04:22 pm (UTC)Wonderful telling, my friend! I enjoyed every moment, including the opening of the door that nobody is supposed to open and the going the wrong way to get gas. *grin* It's all the way it should be.
Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you THANK YOU!!!
*contented sigh*