USA

Back to our peregrination … I can’t help but wonder from time to time, what is it we are doing going from place to place... to place? Is it solely for the love of travel, to experience new places and people and landscapes; or am I looking for something or someplace instead? It seems the more cities/towns we go to (regardless of the accommodations and amenities) they are all so similar. Yes, they are each wonderful in their own way, but they are all still uniquely quite the same. What is the balance between working towards a goal and progress versus floating along a life? Is it better to continually focus on gaining ground, whatever the aspect – work, routines, house, family, education, etc.? or is it better to be content with the present, and focus only on the now, without feelings of failure for stagnation in those other aspects? Or... IS there a better? Do we lose when we succumb to acceptance of just ‘being’ or do we lose when we continually strive for something? And who is to say what should wear that bulls eye? What is the goal - for some maybe a different job, a bigger house, planting roots and spending precious time with family and friends? Or maybe the question is IS there a goal at all - others may be absolutely happy with no clear goal or passion of any specific tangible. Is one way of thought or living more beneficial or more detrimental? Is life without a target or something to aim for meaningless... or free? What's true for me may not be true for anyone else. It's all relative, and it's all impermanent.

On our way, we stopped at a little town called Bismarck, North Dakota. This is the same place that Cujo had lived for a while years ago. We didn’t realize that this was the Pow-Wow weekend in the area, and there were no rooms to be had. After driving around town and calling dozens of rooms, we finally ended up where on of his friends had stayed those few years ago. And – check this out – we got the SAME ROOM! What are the odds? Same town, same motel, same room. Crazy. It was a different (read odd) place – Charlie came up with a pork chop bone from under the bed, and in the morning the cleaning girl stopped by to pull our sheets before we left because as she said ‘it would make HER job easier’. Eh, okay. True, we weren’t actually lying on them anymore. On our way out we had a BIG breakfast at an old time diner, I just think it looks groovy.

We are members of a club - not the Wine of the Month or Cheese of the Month, but Home of the Month - and it is currently in the Twin Cities area of (said in a Jesse Ventura accent) the great state of Minnesota. This area is very pretty and very big. I had an impression of this area, (which was completely wrong) like how different the two cities are, for one. Minneapolis seems more metropolitan and business, while St Paul seems more blue collar and capitol-city-ish. However, the greater metro is quite large and traffic can be demanding even with all the different highways and byways of getting from Point A to Point B. The RNC was here in St Paul a week before we arrived, and there is still much on the news regarding the chaos and calamity all those pesky protesters provided. There were still billboards and placards up outside businesses with Ronald Regan’s face plastered on them, promising a great meal for only $14.95. Marketing is pure genius and pure pathos. One man who wasn’t a protester was released with protesters from jail, others didn’t get their belongings (cell phone, wallet, bags) returned, and now they are claiming victory in their actions while paying an independent company to tell them exactly what they did so well during that week. Aargh, politics! Speaking of, from the state that elected The Body comes Al Franken for Senate. When his commercials come on, I still half expect him to throw in a witty dry cynical comment at the end, instead of ‘I am Al and I approve this message’. And on a side note, his race has the nastiest commercials by far – both sides. I can’t say it’s not interesting, though. Or maybe the correct word is entertaining.

While traveling, you never know what you are going to have or (think you) need. This is adaptability folks. Ha, real adaptability would probably be not bringing all that shit.

First thing I think of when I think Twin Cities is the Mall of America. This is an amazing example of excess. Wow. We didn’t even know where to walk and ended up in the amusement park. Sensory stimulation overload. This is where I almost wished I loved to shop. If I have something in mind or am getting a killer deal, I like to shop, but I can’t just wander around. I get bored and pissy. So I guess I need a list of stuff to shop for and then I will go back. Place your orders folks. Or I will just go back and ride the rides.

I have to say, this area loves animals. There are a TON of dog parks, and a lot of those shows on Animal Planet are from this area. We’ve been to a few, and Charlie is really digging it and thinks we should stay here forever. What more can a dog need – big swampy moldy lakes, trees and bushes with tons of foliage, and other dogs to romp around with? One of the parks is actually on airport property, and was created to help deter vagabonds and hooligans from doing whatever it is they do on open property adjacent to an airport. It’s loud at times, but pretty cool to see them constantly take off and land. In fact, there is never a time here where I don’t see an airplane in the sky, but we are fairly close to the airport, maybe 10 miles.

There is a great little bar on the property here, and it’s our favorite new Cheers. They have a membership called the Mug Club (which of course we joined for beer discounts) and people here are so friendly. We talked for an hour with a fellow barstool squatter next to us, and were congratulated on our membership by another guy near us, funny joint. Apparently it’s a chain, which is good because I already have a new favorite beer. The Bock. Just in case you were wondering.

I choose to think this was somewhat serendipitous - but a new favorite band of mine played in Minneapolis this week! They were the opener, but hey, that means we got to go – it was early and we were home not too late for the working man. And, because they are still not ‘big’ we actually got to chat after they played, while the headliner was playing. The headliner by the way was a group called the Fratellis. And the opener for the opener was Electric Touch. Both were good, but the Airborne Toxic Event band was excellent. Seriously, excellent. As the drummer walked by, and said to Curtis ‘The Drummer!’ and he actually turned around. That’s when I had a moment of geek and I waved, gave him a thumbs up and said ‘You’re awesome!’. Big sigh, I know. But that didn’t stop me – I then stalked and accosted the guitarist and pretty much did the same, just for an extended time. The venue was great, similar to a Big Easy or a Knitting Factory, and they had a voter registration table inside – how great is that?! Apparently it’s where lots of famous folks got their break, so I’m crossing my fingers. All in all, a very good night.

I'll admit it, I got a black eye from a dog. And MY dog, nonetheless. And yes, I still have her. Her body, at least. I had no idea that a dog's head was roughly as hard as a big rock. Now I know. And I also don't think that young puppy prancing and jumping is so cute anymore. Well, it's still cute, but from afar.

Our local fair is generally full of tractor pulls, demo derbys and rodeos with a country concert thrown in. This year, they went retro rock, lucky us. Seriously, we had grown up on this shit and were not part of the Rock of Love fan base - the difference is you know the words to the songs. It was obvious who was there for what reason, it was GREAT people watching! There were the leather, long haired stoners with their lovely blue eyeshadow ladies with big hair and tight clothes and then there were the youngins... hehe. I think I've gotten soft, I used to love to stand in front and fight through the crowd to get a killer view, but now I just get pissy and wish they pick the wrong angry person to stop in front of. And, now I also notice that they are generally loaded and spilling their precious expensive beer that took 15 minutes in line to get. What a liquid waste, how sad. Though... they don't really NEED to drink it ALL at this point. Damn, I sound super lame today. Back to Poison, they haven't changed (despite pimping Rock of Love on VH1)! You know how some bands morph or 'evolve' with their music and appearance? Well, these guys look pretty much the same - maybe a bit shorter hair, and maybe a tad less makeup, but there is still lots of hairspray and mirrors involved, and they actually sang the songs you want to hear - not all new ones. That always irks me to no end.

And where else than a state fair can you find a super tall clown and a 700 pound pumpkin? Make that two.

We have an admitted love of Jack Johnson - not obsession - but appreciation. Really. Okay, sometimes it's intense. Anyway, we like Jack. And how can you not? Seriously, you just can't help but listen to his music and his lyrics and be moved on some level, right? Either kick back and mellow, or moved to action - take your pick, or some of both. So - this was our goal of last weekend, along with a little bit of catch up with friends and family and nature. Hi Mr. Rock!

Oddly enough, during our visit again with Wendy at the new house (which was way too short) I didn't get ANY pictures! Dammit! Little Cody was sleeping when we snuck in to peek at him, he opened his eyes, but then crashed again. And we had a close call with an attack of a mule! Not joking - I literally had to RUN behind Wendy, who I was stunned was quite the little cowgirl now and not as petrified as I. 3 adults hiding from a mule in a storage shed is just plain old funny shit.

After meeting a random stranger from craigslist at a gas station in Meridian to get our concert tickets, we booked on over to Payette to see the cuzzies and Haylee and mom's old stompin' ground.

Get this - a motel in Pendleton, Oregon - does this make sense to you?

The best part of the Gorge is that you camp out within walking distance to the actual concert venue - it's more an experience than just a concert. People are great, friendly and fun - we play games, fly kites, drink fun drinks and grill out. The concert itself was great although we weren't close at all. Especially compared to the last time we saw him in Boise, which was about 20 feet away. This time was more like 2000 feet away, but still a wonderful time. We didn't have a backdrop of the Columbia River in Boise.

We decided to drive through Northern Idaho back home and camp again because we just smelled too good. And - again - a brush with danger! A tree fell right in front of us on the highway! We saw it sway, then gracefully land on the road in front of us and a car traveling toward us. Eerie to think about if it happened 2 seconds earlier right on top of our heads. Crazy. And the crazier thing - it was cut up and moved out within 30 minutes! The Lolo area had great foliage like wild raspberries and whatever this pretty flower is. And the barn pretty much sums up my answer to pretty much everything in life... The Clark Canyon picture is where Cujo and Papa Joe say that they spent the coldest day of their lives ice fishing when they first moved to Idaho. Looks pretty nice in the summer.

Here are some pictures of Charlie's new tree house Cujo built and her new bed that I made for her. Can you say spoiled? I think its a sign that we either need kids or we need to go back to work.

Well, after seven years of recovery from Idaho, they've returned! Yup, seven years - can you believe it? No. Actually, no, no, I can't. Damn - seven years since I got married. Wow. Ok, my bright light moment of realization is now over. Onwards...

They got in on a night where we actually had an event to go to in Pocatello - music night on the Idaho State University quad - the girl's last name was Curtis, but other than that she really didn't make an imprint on me, sorry. However... she did on Daniela, who bought her CDs and and stood in line for her autograph. It's really been amazing weather, just perfect summer weather which I so wholly appreciate after our winter in Illinois. Lovely, lovely weather with beautiful days and calm and brilliant sunsety nights.

After our evening libations and enjoyment at the quad, we decided to go play frisbee golf at the park before heading home. It was lots of fun, and Ma Wendy did great with the oil company plastic freebee version circa 1987. The week before, the new sculpture of Chief Pocatello was dedicated just down the hill, so we stopped there on our way home to awe in the spendor. It was quite pretty, and very respectful, I believe. (Not so) Funny enough, we were there a couple days before, and ran into a descendant whose name was misspelled on the placard there - oops.

So, I have an admitted open obsession with this local grease grub called Spaceburgers, which I share with my mom and AC. Not sure if this comes from the typical 'comfort growing up food' OR if I just really like the food and the inventiveness of the food. It's basically two pieces of bread squished to toasty perfection an eighth inch thick with ground beef and cheese melted in between. I digress... and I drool... anyway... I was very excited to share my love with the family, but it was quite anticlimactic. Not impressed, I guess it runs in the family - Cujo could care less about it as well. All this talking about it, I think I'll have to go get one tomorrow.

We wanted to go rafting somewhere, so we decided on the closest and cheapest river - Lava Hot Springs! Only 40 minutes away, sounds great plus the fact that we get great Thai food after. Perfection in motion, to me. Little pleasures baby. Anyway, perfection may be an overstatement - three out of four of us ended up with injuries or shoe losses for god's sake - is this age or stupidity, I sure as hell don't know just yet. Give me another decade to figure out what I do wrong this decade. Either way, today I remember much fun and little scrapes. Poor Wendy crashed and burned as I tried to pull her up the riverbank. And dammit, it worked so well when I did the same to Daniela. Cujo crashed and burned on a big ole drop to a higher put-in in the river, and I just burned my elbows - I have no idea HOW exactly, oddly enough. But - the good news is - we had a lot of fun AND we got to eat Thai AND drink a bottle of wine we had just bought on Main Street 10 minutes before without paying a cork fee.

Sight saw some of the area, Scout Mountain and Mink Creek, and Charlie got to chase a few cows so she was happy. I swear, that instinct is so strong it's alarming. Makes me wonder if we as humans have any of those born in instincts in us anymore, or if we have suppressed and repressed them to the point of extinction over social boundaries. Beautiful area, it's that 'higher than anywhere' point where you can't help but have a different perspective on things. I've always thought that either a)looking down from above like in an airplane or b)looking up from the ground like lying on the ground peering up through tree branches is always an experience of viewpoint astoundment.

As if physical exertion were no object, despite our old folk injuries, we came to the conclusion that another try at disk golf at the harder course was in order. Now, this course is quite incredible, and is supposed to be one of the hardest and most elevated. The truth to that, I'm not sure, since we just barely started playing this sport, but that's the word on the street. The street that houses the frisbee golf store. And a guy I ran into that does it every day that I used to work with. So, for what it's worth, it's a kickass course. One of the tees has a five hundred and something distance, which is FAR. Throwing a frisbee - seriously - hard. Especially when the wind catches your disk and you end up five hundred feet down in the gully that you slip and slide to get to, through cactus and rock and dust. Nonetheless - FUN SHIT. Crazy what we consider fun. Actually, now that I think about it - no, I disagree. It is fun - get outside in nature in the summer and play a game, you try to better yourself, and Charlie loves it. And the cherry on the pie - you can carry a cooler with you with your favorite liquid.

We've only bought Charlie a few bags of food so far, haven't had her a year yet, but damn does she get excited for bags and boxes - wayyy more excited than the $10 toys we buy her. I think we've finally caught on - now we just save our pop and beer boxes for her to demolish before recycling them.

Very cute and conscientious, Daniela insisted upon wearing a helmet on the bike. Nebraska has a helmet law, Idaho does not.

So, it's been a while since I've been to Yellowstone, even with it a few short hours away, and it's gotten busy. I mean, it's always been busy I suppose, but this trip seemed a tad hectic. There were long lines to get into the gate at West, lots of traffic, lots of people, and drivers in a hurry. Isn't this the part of the trip vacationers are supposed to slow down and admire? We even saw a car wreck a few minutes after the crash - people being tended to along the road and TONS OF SHIT thrown out of the van or SUV they were all in. They had to be on quite a trip based on all the crap they had strewn about. Oh, and there was a fire! Unfortunately, this WAS the fire that pushed out the bear into the waiting arms of a firefighter. He is okay, but holy shit what a story. Our animal viewing started off slowly, but we made up for it - at the end of the trip we had seen bison, deer, fox, coyote, bald eagle and a moose. Not bad, eh? Pretty damn good I say. And, another highlight - no blowing of the infamous Caldera. Even though we'd still be goners anyway if it happened now. Thanks to Bob, I have that fear instilled in me so I attempted to pass on that unreasonable fear to my little sister.

Some say this is the most beautiful place they have ever been - tops the list. Okay, it's Cujo that says that. This is his number one. I have to admit, while I have such a hard time with rankings and orders because everywhere is just so different, I can't really argue that this place is simply magnificent. No wonder people are so moved from this viewpoint. It's much more spectacular than the Grand Canyon to me - this one is surrounded by cleaner air so that you can actually see across the canyon, for one.

In order to get the whole experience of National Parks, (and since Daniela didn't really remember doing this before - not her fault btw - she was nine) we camped out. Not in the sticks, but in a civilized campground with water and ranger discussions and scary signs like this one:

Leaving Yellowstone out south, you can go through Grand Teton and Jackson to loop back home and different scenery is always great, right? These peaks are breathtaking and they always seem to far away, even standing at Jenny Lake.

On our way home, we drove right by Blackfoot so we figured we might as well stop by the Blackfoot disk golf course along the marina - we could play and Charlie could frolic in the water. However - Cujo lost his brand new distance disk in the tree, and the water had a warning that read some sort of warnings of swimmer's itch. What is swimmer's itch anyway? All I know is Charlie still swam. And she lived. And she's not scratching uncontrollably. Bummer to lose the new frisbee though, although I'd rather lose the frisbee than the Cujo, who tried to reclaim it by climbing the 70 foot tree.

At the local Fort Hall Casino, one only needs to be 18 to gamble, so we HAD to take Daniela. She actually didn't do bad, but when I lost $8 I was done - what a wimp I've become. I just can't see the point in losing large amounts of money on purpose anymore. Sign of age, like the fact that I'd rather buy alcohol and drink at home than go out to the bars and pay triple. Or a sign of alcoholism? hehe. Or... is it that you don't drink while on a reservation? And THAT is what impairs your financial gambling judgment? Duh.

Now, a little back history is necessary here - Curtis has an unhealthy obsession/competition when it comes to miniature golf. I don't know where it comes from, it was there before me. All I know is that drive is very very strong. And annoying. Anyway, he was beaten by his dad in Missouri, thankfully. But - we are now in Idaho so that apparently does not count. Sheeesh. Anyway, the talk was all talk. Good thing his sister got the putt putt genes and humbled her brother. Although, of course I do need to mention this WAS the day he was diagnosed with walking pneumonia and bronchitis. Excuse? Crutch? Validated reason? Injury take two? Maybe all of the above. Oh yeah, AND he got a tetanus shot in his putting arm that day as well. Ugh, damn, putting it that way, yes - he was handicapped. Poor guy.

There are usually a couple weeks a year that we have an apricot mess here at the yard - especially when the fruit stunter doesn't work. This was one of those years. And unfortunately it coincided with a family visit. Each morning we would have to pick up a dozen or so super ripe apricots that had fallen to their death and exploded with a vengeance on the patio. Why don't we eat them, you might ask? Well for one, they have worms, and secondly - they are a good 30 feet above us. So they leave a sticky, squishy mess that Charlie is drawn to. In fact, she does eat them and occasionally spits out the pits. Yeah, her shit is orange, that's how we know. Ha. And she has a new aroma. Ewww. I don't think eating apricots is terrible. Anyway, during this picture, one just happened to fall down right on Cujo as he was snapping the photo - priceless. Life is good.