The Week of Crazy - Pt 1

Hi, and welcome to rustic Whitehouse, Ohio, home of, well... nothing.  And as this is my vacation, I embrace the nothing.  Good food, beer and "nothing" make a superb vacation, if you ask me.


I got here easily enough; no hold-ups at all.  Boarded my Southwest flight with the first group and for some reason, and for the first time I can remember, I picked a window seat.  I almost always take the aisle.  But I was rewarded for my choice because shortly after I sat down, a  pretty young girl took the aisle seat, and even better than that, no one took the middle.


We chatted a bit during the short flight.  She came from New York, routing through Baltimore, to Detroit, then heading to upstate Michigan for a bridal shower.  Not that any of that really matters, but it made for a pleasant flight.  (Between her, and the latin flight attendant dude with a severe excess of personality, it was an entertaining hour and a half.)


No doubt that if he were there, my hound-dog buddy Rik would have came off the plane with her phone number.  (If he didn't nail her in the lavatory...)


As usual, my buddy John picked me up, then we headed to our usual haunt, Shawn's Irish Tavern.  We met Rik and John's dad there for lunch and beers.  This particular place has been through a number of ownership changes, but we always seem to wind up there.  Rik, in particular, has engaged in a number of adventures within those walls.  Like I told him Friday, "Dude, if these walls could talk, they'd be screaming your name."


I'm not saying that Rik is a playboy, but he gets his Viagra pills from a Pez dispenser.  (Which is shaped like Pinocchio.)


As we always do on my first night in town, we assembled in John's garage for beer and loud music.  Rik's son and daughter also came by to visit.  They're such great kids.  The boy, Jake, is only 12 and is already almost as tall as his dad.  The girl, Kyrie, is just dazzling.  (Remember, she was the inspiration for my "Letter to a 16-year old girl" post from last year.)

Jake and Kyrie.

I got up Saturday morning with the inspiration for a new segment for my vacation posts.  I now bring you:

Irritating My Mother - Part 1

You may recall that my mother and I had a running battle as I was growing up.  I wanted sugary cereal and Pop Tarts, but because she didn't love me, she made me eat eggs and waffles and pancakes.  Revenge is mine!

John and I had a day ahead that was packed with errands.  First, we stopped at a local engine shop, so he could check on a new motor for his father's wood chipper.


What, doesn't everyone have a wood chipper?  Anyway, out front of the place, (which was packed with all kinds of fancy riding lawn mowers), they had this:

You gotta love small town businesses... Pink flamingos, dressed as Baltimore "Hons", cutting the grass.

Also, while in local traffic, we saw this:

I don't know what it is, but it was pretty cool.

After our first errand, we had worked up a pretty good hunger, so we went back to Shawn's for a burger and a beer.  Once sated, we headed for Lowe's.  John had to pick up a couple of light fixtures.


You know you're out in the country when outside the Lowe's, they have about 30 or 40 lawn tractors all lined up in two rows.  It looked like the starting line for the Redneck 500.


While John searched for illumination, I checked out the plumbing.

So.  Tempted.

I was dying to try it out.  I swear, if I worked at a Lowe's, I'd set up a mannequin, preferably holding up a newspaper. 


Our last errand was to go get the car washed.  John's neighbor's daughter was working on a fundraising car wash for the high school.  And because we are such supporters of quality education, we went to have a bunch of high school girls wearing short-shorts rub warm soapy water all over the car.  


Two of the girls even had a quick water fight, which I'm sure was arranged for our enjoyment.  In fact, they probably have one every 15 minutes, knowing that all the suburban dads will be texting their suburban dad buddies, going "Dude, get down to the car wash, right now!"


All over town, suburban moms will be going, "Honey, where are you going?"


"I'm getting the car washed, dear."


"Why are you bringing chips and a 6-pack?"


No, I didn't take pictures, so don't ask.  I have more decorum than that.  Plus, I didn't want to get kicked out of the car wash.  But I tell you, when that flock of girls started swarming the car to dry it off after the wash, it was like getting a full car massage.  Call it an "auto" body experience.


After all the excitement of the motor store, Lowe's and the car wash, we called it a hard day's work and retired back to the garage.


Later that night, it turned out that they were having an All-Year high school reunion, down in front of the local bar.  So we turned out there, but it was kind of under-whelming.  I mean, the event was fine, but there didn't seem to be many other people there from our class.  (And NO, they haven't all died off!)


But I did get to meet up with an old neighbor of mine and Barn regular, my old friend Margaret.

Reunion accomplished, we went back to Shawn's (again) for a few, then called it a night.

Coming soon, Father's Day, a Mudhens game, and fishing on Lake Erie.

Happy Father's Day, Dad!