The multi-ethnic Gypsy punk band known as Gogol Bordello writes songs.
Most of them are supercrazy.
As it turns out, one of those supercrazy songs is entitled "East Infection."
Seriously.
It's like they wrote the song just for us.
Except they didn't.
That isn't stopping us from using the song in our final post for this road trip blog.
And so...without further adieu...I present to you -- "East Infection : The Movie."
Hope you enjoyed reading as much as we enjoyed blogging!
SEEYA!
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
The Infection Trifecta: The New England Tales
First off, allow me to offer my apologies for being so lax in blogging over the last few days. Jon and I were, to put it politely, fucking exhausted and so we chose sleep over your entertainment.
Whatever, you were on vacation anyway for Labor Day. And I didn’t see any of you blogging. So shut up!
Anyway, Jon and I are both home in LA, safe and sound now. I spent the better part of the day completely unconscious yesterday, and today was kind of the same... but I wanted to give you the last few episodes of the road trip in one handy, dandy post. And so, without further adieu--here is The East Infection Trifecta!
On Friday morning, Jon and I took the train out of New York City and picked up a car in Connecticut. By Friday evening, we were in Portland, Maine. After a (way-too-brief) nap, Jon and I asked a helpful Holiday-Inn-By-The-Bay employee for a decent seafood place, which is how we wound up at J’s Oyster House.
J's is a local hangout that overlooks the water, and it's full of wacky Portland characters. Sandy, a bigger gal with a gruff no-nonsense attitude, took our name down and told us to wait outside until she screamed it. After a while, it seemed that they had stopped calling names altogether, although tables were opening up left and right. As people began seating themselves, I asked the (much more meek) waitress if it was ok to take one of the empty tables. She replied, with a look of fear, “You have to ask Sandy at the bar.” Clearly, Sandy was not to be fucked with.
We asked Sandy who told us the table was ours (although she did glare at us for a bit). Jon and I were starving (as usual) and we were ready to order immediately.
When the food arrived, it was kind of the best thing that ever happened to me in my life. I got a seafood casserole, which featured crab, lobster, mussels and other assorted delicious fish. I don't know if it was the exhaustion or the wine or the night sea air, but I swear the food was so good, I almost started to cry.
Satisfaction.
As I tried to pull myself together, some of the locals began to argue. The main culprit wasn't exactly someone I'd want to meet in a dark alley: He a dead ringer in size and hair to Hurley from Lost. He seemed to be arguing with some other customers as well as a busboy I think. I’m not really sure what the fight was about, or many of the details during it, as I was too busy devouring the most delicious meal of my life. But I knew one thing: If they started throwing punches (or each other), I was to save my food at ALL COST.
Eventually, Sandy came out and everyone ran. Like I said, she is just not to be fucked with. I love that woman. Seriously. We had to eventually track down our (frightened) waitress for the check, at which point Jon and I meandered over to a floating restaurant for dessert.
The ancient woman at the front of this boat (who's name, coincidentally, was Jay) told us they were closed, but then had a change of heart and sat us down for some delicious Maine blueberry pie and Irish Coffee.
Not a camera effect--this is Jeff's actual view of Jon during exhaustion.
The next morning, Saturday, Jon and I woke up after only about 4 hours of sleep (Bringing the trip's total hours of slumber to approximately 10.) We asked a trainee at the front desk of the hotel for a breakfast recommendation. She explained to us that there was a diner down the street, but that we couldn't drive there because, it's a one-way street.
We were so tired, that we accepted this as fact and started the ten minute walk to the diner, which, for the record, was easily accessible by a thousand other roads that we very easily could have driven down. By this point, I was limping like a crippled person due to some unnamed foot injury from the New York era of the trip... so it took us five times as long to get anywhere.
While in there, we were treated to more Maine Notes--which apparently aren't just for the highways:
On the way back, Jon cursed out the Hotel Trainee, because we were now walking (or limping) up hill to the hotel to get the car. I was still full of seafood casserole of love from the night before, however, so I was fine, although a little limpy.
In addition to its colorful locals, Katya showed off some of Concord's other features, such as a fake Liberty Bell...
The crack is fucking painted on.
Un. Acceptable.
...a giant cement turtle....
Weeee!
...and a trap designed to ensnare and kill visitors to their lovely city.
Perish Station™
We met up with Katya's daughter Morgan and ate delicious Bison Burgers for lunch while Katya & I caught up on old times as Morgan and Jon pretended to be entertained. It was way too short of a visit to KatyaLand, but Jon and I had to say goodbye and head on out to Boston....which brings us to:
Whatever, you were on vacation anyway for Labor Day. And I didn’t see any of you blogging. So shut up!
Anyway, Jon and I are both home in LA, safe and sound now. I spent the better part of the day completely unconscious yesterday, and today was kind of the same... but I wanted to give you the last few episodes of the road trip in one handy, dandy post. And so, without further adieu--here is The East Infection Trifecta!
Part One:
The Maine Event
The Maine Event
On Friday morning, Jon and I took the train out of New York City and picked up a car in Connecticut. By Friday evening, we were in Portland, Maine. After a (way-too-brief) nap, Jon and I asked a helpful Holiday-Inn-By-The-Bay employee for a decent seafood place, which is how we wound up at J’s Oyster House.
J's is a local hangout that overlooks the water, and it's full of wacky Portland characters. Sandy, a bigger gal with a gruff no-nonsense attitude, took our name down and told us to wait outside until she screamed it. After a while, it seemed that they had stopped calling names altogether, although tables were opening up left and right. As people began seating themselves, I asked the (much more meek) waitress if it was ok to take one of the empty tables. She replied, with a look of fear, “You have to ask Sandy at the bar.” Clearly, Sandy was not to be fucked with.
We asked Sandy who told us the table was ours (although she did glare at us for a bit). Jon and I were starving (as usual) and we were ready to order immediately.
When the food arrived, it was kind of the best thing that ever happened to me in my life. I got a seafood casserole, which featured crab, lobster, mussels and other assorted delicious fish. I don't know if it was the exhaustion or the wine or the night sea air, but I swear the food was so good, I almost started to cry.
Satisfaction.As I tried to pull myself together, some of the locals began to argue. The main culprit wasn't exactly someone I'd want to meet in a dark alley: He a dead ringer in size and hair to Hurley from Lost. He seemed to be arguing with some other customers as well as a busboy I think. I’m not really sure what the fight was about, or many of the details during it, as I was too busy devouring the most delicious meal of my life. But I knew one thing: If they started throwing punches (or each other), I was to save my food at ALL COST.
Eventually, Sandy came out and everyone ran. Like I said, she is just not to be fucked with. I love that woman. Seriously. We had to eventually track down our (frightened) waitress for the check, at which point Jon and I meandered over to a floating restaurant for dessert.
The ancient woman at the front of this boat (who's name, coincidentally, was Jay) told us they were closed, but then had a change of heart and sat us down for some delicious Maine blueberry pie and Irish Coffee.
Not a camera effect--this is Jeff's actual view of Jon during exhaustion.We were so tired, that we accepted this as fact and started the ten minute walk to the diner, which, for the record, was easily accessible by a thousand other roads that we very easily could have driven down. By this point, I was limping like a crippled person due to some unnamed foot injury from the New York era of the trip... so it took us five times as long to get anywhere.
While in there, we were treated to more Maine Notes--which apparently aren't just for the highways:
Those do NOT go in there!
PART TWO:
Conquering Concord
Afterward, she took us on a tour of the rest of the downtown, where we ran into a fella that worked with her daughter at the Candy Shop (he also works at Thorne's, although Katya swears she's never been in there) as well as a man Katya refers to as "No-Nose." There was also a guy who was a dead ringer for her dog Charlie:
Conquering Concord
Jon and I then drove to Concord, New Hampshire, where we met up with my former co-worker, Katya. Katya and I worked at a radio station together for years at my first job out of college. My co-workers and I always felt bad about being dirty around her, because she was a mom and always seemed so proper! In fact, when people found out I was a homo, they were scared to tell her. Once she found out, she rolled her eyes and said, "I know. For Christ's sakes, I grew up in the Village!"
Aww, Katya!
Of course, the first thing Katya the Innocent Mom wants to show me when we get to Concord was the Main Street/Downtown area--specifically, the adult store called Thorne's.
Ofcourseshedid!
Aww, Katya!Of course, the first thing Katya the Innocent Mom wants to show me when we get to Concord was the Main Street/Downtown area--specifically, the adult store called Thorne's.
Ofcourseshedid!
In addition to its colorful locals, Katya showed off some of Concord's other features, such as a fake Liberty Bell...
The crack is fucking painted on.
Un. Acceptable.
Weeee!...and a trap designed to ensnare and kill visitors to their lovely city.
Perish Station™Part Three:
The Boston Uncommons
The Boston Uncommons
Jon's college roommate Mollie, who was kind enough to let us stay with her and her fiance Jonathan during our time in Boston, booked us into a wacky "Duck Tour" for Sunday afternoon.
The Duck Tour vehicle takes you around the city's streets for a while before turning into a boat and bringing you into the Charles River for a look at the city from the water.
Jon and I were pretty much the walking dead by Sunday afternoon, and the thought of climbing aboard a crazy land-boat with a loud guy yelling at us for 80 minutes didn't seem like something I could handle without being at full capacity, so I will admit to being a little terrified.
At the beginning of our tour, our guide, Hawaiian Howie...
...instructed us on how to quack at passersby while on the tour. Anytime he said the phrase "How are ya?" we were to reply back with: "Quack! Quack! How Are Ya!"
OK, maybe I was a lot terrified.
Howie began to unravel the tale of Boston for us, in a pretty entertaining way. Well, I was in a daze for most of it, but it seemed to be fun at the time. I imagine this is how old-age will be, and I welcome it.
Anyway, Howie was totally awesome and let us drive the boat while it was on the water...
To the left, to the left.
Everyone Out of the Water!
We took in some of the spectacular views of Boston from the water...
...and from the land.
The wind beneath his wings...
For all your tooth-painting needs.
After the tour, as Jon reported, we all went over to his friend Andrew Chang's House of Pasta...
...and enjoyed a home-cooked meal before we had to get up at FOUR AM to make it to the airport for our flights home.
And even though I was exhausted from the rest of the awesome trip, I loved Boston--thanks in no small part to Mollie, Jonathan and Andrew...who all perfectly captured the Spirit of Massachusetts.
Thanks to everyone who played with us during this crazy adventure! I can't believe it's already over... and I can't believe it only lasted a week!
Now go clean your infection up. You're grossing everyone out.
The Duck Tour vehicle takes you around the city's streets for a while before turning into a boat and bringing you into the Charles River for a look at the city from the water.
Jon and I were pretty much the walking dead by Sunday afternoon, and the thought of climbing aboard a crazy land-boat with a loud guy yelling at us for 80 minutes didn't seem like something I could handle without being at full capacity, so I will admit to being a little terrified.
At the beginning of our tour, our guide, Hawaiian Howie...
...instructed us on how to quack at passersby while on the tour. Anytime he said the phrase "How are ya?" we were to reply back with: "Quack! Quack! How Are Ya!"
OK, maybe I was a lot terrified.
Howie began to unravel the tale of Boston for us, in a pretty entertaining way. Well, I was in a daze for most of it, but it seemed to be fun at the time. I imagine this is how old-age will be, and I welcome it.
Anyway, Howie was totally awesome and let us drive the boat while it was on the water...
To the left, to the left.
Everyone Out of the Water!We took in some of the spectacular views of Boston from the water...
...and from the land.
The wind beneath his wings...
For all your tooth-painting needs.
...and enjoyed a home-cooked meal before we had to get up at FOUR AM to make it to the airport for our flights home.
And even though I was exhausted from the rest of the awesome trip, I loved Boston--thanks in no small part to Mollie, Jonathan and Andrew...who all perfectly captured the Spirit of Massachusetts.
Thanks to everyone who played with us during this crazy adventure! I can't believe it's already over... and I can't believe it only lasted a week!
Now go clean your infection up. You're grossing everyone out.
Five States. One Post.
The final three days of East Infection were pretty much a blur.
We squeezed a lot of activities and people in the span of 72 hours (there was only time for one CAN picture). Every moment was filled with EastInfectionJoy.
Don't believe me?
Well, get ready...because you are about to embark on a blog journey through five states (New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Maine) in the span of one blog post.
Once we got out of NYC at 7 in the morning on Friday, Jeff and I picked up a new rental car in Stamford, CT. It was a Red Pontiac. It didn't have a NeverLost. I never thought I'd say this, but I missed the Impala.
After driving through Connecticut and a good portion of Massachusetts, we arrived in Natick...to have lunch with my former college roommates, Kim and Emily.
They were nice enough to drive out from Boston proper and meet us at the Natick Mall (now known as the "Natick Collection"), just off the freeway.
East Infection Trivia Factoid: the "Natick Collection" is the largest Mall in all of New England and the twelfth largest mall in the country.
The mall was VeryNice and VeryClean, but it contained some very "modern," questionable looking mall shrubbery...
If you can't tell from the picture, those are birch tree logs stuck in small cylinders of cement. Instead of fake plastic leaves, the leaves consist of triangle piece of green plastic hanging from the mall ceiling. For some reason, the faux-modern/college art project-ness of it all made me a little uneasy.
We said goodbye to Kim, Emily, and the "Natick Collection" and then headed up to Portland, Maine for about 16 hours.
It was VeryNice.
(FYI, Jeff is taking on Portland in another post.)
After Portland, came Concord. Jeff's former coworker, Katya, was nice enough to give us a quick tour of the town.
It really was VeryNice.
Once we said farewell to Katya, Jeff and I headed to Boston...where we immediately got lost. I lived in Boston in the summer of 1999, so I thought I would be able to find my way around. At least, I thought I would be able to do it long enough for us to drop off the Pontaic at the Boston Sheraton.
As it turns out, the streets of Boston are filled with pain, misery, potholes, and scantily clad Red Bull girls driving Red Bull minis.
I would go into further detail about our driving tour of Boston that nearly ended in death, but all that really matters is the fun that followed...
Once we left our car worries behind, Jeff and I arrived at Mollie and Jonathan's apartment in Brookline. (Mollie was my best friend/roommate in college. And Jonathan is her fiancé.)
It's been years since I've seen Mollie (December of 2002 to be exact), but it felt like no time had passed. Jeff and Jonathan were immediately subjected to sitting through numerous college stories...including one where Mollie threatened a "hardened" townie for nearly running us over on our way to Dunkin' Donuts at 1:45 in morning.
Hardened Townie: "What do you have a f*cking death wish?"
Mollie: "Yeah! What are you gonna do about it?"
After we got ourselves situated, Mollie, Jeff and I headed to dinner at Sonsie on Newbury Street...where we met up with my high school friend, Andrew (who I hadn't seen since my five-year reunion in 2001).
Post-dinner, we all decided to checkout the Boston nightlife.
The first location, Club Cafe, didn't seem to be much of a club. Or a Cafe. It looked like they tried to convert an old Ruby Tuesday's into a club...which unsurprisingly turned out to be a poorly executed idea. The whole non-decor decor made me nostalgic for those stupid faux birch tree leaves from the "Natick Collection."
The only thing that was at all interesting about the place was a giant television, where you could send a text message to a number and the text would show up on the screen for all to see.
Now, I'm pretty sure this screen/text message thing was supposed to be used by the shy boys in order to be an ice breaker with the other shy boys...but Jeff found another use for it. Confusing the boys of Boston with a hilarious "bit."
(User 9278 = Jeff)
Hilarious, eh?
Since no one was dancing on the dancefloor, we ended up heading over to "the Roxy." Which was located on the first floor of the downtown Marriott (ofcourseitwas).
Inside, the Roxy was filled with gayrageous-ness.
This guy was working the glow sticks (not pictured)...
And this guy was working the Castanets (pictured)...
Despite the crazinesses surrounding us, I think we made the most of it.
The next night, for our final bit of BostonJoy, Andrew had us all over for homemade pasta and deliciousness.
As I watched one of my best friends from high school serve homemade pasta to one of my best friends from college and one of my best friends from Los Angeles, I started grinning like an idiot. Worlds were colliding. And I couldn't have been happier.
We squeezed a lot of activities and people in the span of 72 hours (there was only time for one CAN picture). Every moment was filled with EastInfectionJoy.
Don't believe me?
Well, get ready...because you are about to embark on a blog journey through five states (New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Maine) in the span of one blog post.
* * *
Once we got out of NYC at 7 in the morning on Friday, Jeff and I picked up a new rental car in Stamford, CT. It was a Red Pontiac. It didn't have a NeverLost. I never thought I'd say this, but I missed the Impala.
After driving through Connecticut and a good portion of Massachusetts, we arrived in Natick...to have lunch with my former college roommates, Kim and Emily.
They were nice enough to drive out from Boston proper and meet us at the Natick Mall (now known as the "Natick Collection"), just off the freeway.
East Infection Trivia Factoid: the "Natick Collection" is the largest Mall in all of New England and the twelfth largest mall in the country.
The mall was VeryNice and VeryClean, but it contained some very "modern," questionable looking mall shrubbery...
If you can't tell from the picture, those are birch tree logs stuck in small cylinders of cement. Instead of fake plastic leaves, the leaves consist of triangle piece of green plastic hanging from the mall ceiling. For some reason, the faux-modern/college art project-ness of it all made me a little uneasy.
We said goodbye to Kim, Emily, and the "Natick Collection" and then headed up to Portland, Maine for about 16 hours.
It was VeryNice.
(FYI, Jeff is taking on Portland in another post.)
After Portland, came Concord. Jeff's former coworker, Katya, was nice enough to give us a quick tour of the town.
It really was VeryNice.
Once we said farewell to Katya, Jeff and I headed to Boston...where we immediately got lost. I lived in Boston in the summer of 1999, so I thought I would be able to find my way around. At least, I thought I would be able to do it long enough for us to drop off the Pontaic at the Boston Sheraton.
As it turns out, the streets of Boston are filled with pain, misery, potholes, and scantily clad Red Bull girls driving Red Bull minis.
I would go into further detail about our driving tour of Boston that nearly ended in death, but all that really matters is the fun that followed...
Once we left our car worries behind, Jeff and I arrived at Mollie and Jonathan's apartment in Brookline. (Mollie was my best friend/roommate in college. And Jonathan is her fiancé.)
It's been years since I've seen Mollie (December of 2002 to be exact), but it felt like no time had passed. Jeff and Jonathan were immediately subjected to sitting through numerous college stories...including one where Mollie threatened a "hardened" townie for nearly running us over on our way to Dunkin' Donuts at 1:45 in morning.
Hardened Townie: "What do you have a f*cking death wish?"
Mollie: "Yeah! What are you gonna do about it?"
After we got ourselves situated, Mollie, Jeff and I headed to dinner at Sonsie on Newbury Street...where we met up with my high school friend, Andrew (who I hadn't seen since my five-year reunion in 2001).
Post-dinner, we all decided to checkout the Boston nightlife.
The first location, Club Cafe, didn't seem to be much of a club. Or a Cafe. It looked like they tried to convert an old Ruby Tuesday's into a club...which unsurprisingly turned out to be a poorly executed idea. The whole non-decor decor made me nostalgic for those stupid faux birch tree leaves from the "Natick Collection."
The only thing that was at all interesting about the place was a giant television, where you could send a text message to a number and the text would show up on the screen for all to see.
Now, I'm pretty sure this screen/text message thing was supposed to be used by the shy boys in order to be an ice breaker with the other shy boys...but Jeff found another use for it. Confusing the boys of Boston with a hilarious "bit."
(User 9278 = Jeff)
Hilarious, eh?
Since no one was dancing on the dancefloor, we ended up heading over to "the Roxy." Which was located on the first floor of the downtown Marriott (ofcourseitwas).
Inside, the Roxy was filled with gayrageous-ness.
This guy was working the glow sticks (not pictured)...
And this guy was working the Castanets (pictured)...
Despite the crazinesses surrounding us, I think we made the most of it.
The next night, for our final bit of BostonJoy, Andrew had us all over for homemade pasta and deliciousness.
As I watched one of my best friends from high school serve homemade pasta to one of my best friends from college and one of my best friends from Los Angeles, I started grinning like an idiot. Worlds were colliding. And I couldn't have been happier.
Day Six: Portland, Maine to Boston, Mass
Mile 541.8 - Bye, bye, Portland, Maine! We'll miss you. Except we're lost, so we're still here!
Mile 542.9 - Found. Okseeya!
Mile 544.3 - We might be a little tired. Ugh.
Mile 549.6 - More people pulled over in Maine. Hi, everyone slow down!
Mile 574.8 - 70 Miles to Boston!
Mile 586.6 - Jeff throws gum out the window. Or, more accurately, back into the car again. Jon: "Idiot."
Mile 593.1 - Hi, we're back in New Hampshire! Live Free or Die! Again! Jeff is definitely considering the second option.
Mile 596.6 - More Police activity--this time a car is being searched!
Mile 600.6 - We pass the 101 freeway, just like in LA!
Mile 608.5 - Jeff thinks that New Hampshire looks a lot like Maine.
Mile 614.8 - Gas Break in Epping! Where's the Jippy Loo?
Mile 623.1 - Candia! Jon shouts: "It's Canada with a little bit of I in it!" Jeff takes Jon's coffee away.
Mile 626.2 - Bumper Sticker: "Eat Bertha's Mussels." HOT!
Mile 639.1 - Jon wonders why everything is a toll road. Apparently, Jon's got a lot of money, but he can't afford a freeway.
Mile 642.2 - New Hampshire: Common Sense for all. Maybe they should export it to LA.
Mile 651.4 - In Concord, looking for Katya's Chocolate Brown Bungalow!
Mile 652.0 - We found Katya!!
Mile 652.7 - Back on the 93!
Mile 656.0 - Screw you, opposite direction!
Mile 664.4 - New Hampshire = Pretty
Mile 666.9 - Jeff fears the massive spiderwebs he sees in the trees:
...and Jon has to explain to Jeff what Tent Caterpillars are. Jeff is still terrified.
Mile 670.1 - AHHH! No Road Lines!
Mile 670.5 - OK, they're back.
Mile 670.7 - Jon: "We're taking the high road!" Jeff glares. Jon: "What? It's an inch higher than the lane next to us!"
Mile 673.5 - 49 Miles to Boston!
Mile 673.8 - It's gettin cloudy!
Mile 691.3 - Mass Welcomes us!
Mile 700.0 - AHHHHHHH!
Mile 709.4 - 11 miles to Boston!
Mile 710.5 - New Black Bear exhibit at the Zoo! AHHHH!
Mile 713.4 - Hi, we can see Boston!
Mile 717.9 - We're dropping off the car in Boston!
Mile 721.0 - Oh God, so lost. And we need gas before we return the stupidcar.
Mile 724.8 - Found Gas.
Mile 726.6 - Jeff & Jon drop the car off, happy to be rid of it. Too tired to function. Must die. They opt for a cab to Mollie's place where they will be staying, thus the Miley Cyrus notebook retires once and for all! Good. Day.
Mile 542.9 - Found. Okseeya!
Mile 544.3 - We might be a little tired. Ugh.
Mile 549.6 - More people pulled over in Maine. Hi, everyone slow down!
Mile 574.8 - 70 Miles to Boston!
Mile 586.6 - Jeff throws gum out the window. Or, more accurately, back into the car again. Jon: "Idiot."
Mile 593.1 - Hi, we're back in New Hampshire! Live Free or Die! Again! Jeff is definitely considering the second option.
Mile 596.6 - More Police activity--this time a car is being searched!
Mile 600.6 - We pass the 101 freeway, just like in LA!
Mile 608.5 - Jeff thinks that New Hampshire looks a lot like Maine.Mile 614.8 - Gas Break in Epping! Where's the Jippy Loo?
Mile 623.1 - Candia! Jon shouts: "It's Canada with a little bit of I in it!" Jeff takes Jon's coffee away.
Mile 626.2 - Bumper Sticker: "Eat Bertha's Mussels." HOT!Mile 639.1 - Jon wonders why everything is a toll road. Apparently, Jon's got a lot of money, but he can't afford a freeway.
Mile 642.2 - New Hampshire: Common Sense for all. Maybe they should export it to LA.
Mile 651.4 - In Concord, looking for Katya's Chocolate Brown Bungalow!
Mile 652.0 - We found Katya!!
Mile 652.7 - Back on the 93!Mile 656.0 - Screw you, opposite direction!
Mile 664.4 - New Hampshire = Pretty
Mile 666.9 - Jeff fears the massive spiderwebs he sees in the trees:
...and Jon has to explain to Jeff what Tent Caterpillars are. Jeff is still terrified.Mile 670.1 - AHHH! No Road Lines!
Mile 670.5 - OK, they're back.
Mile 670.7 - Jon: "We're taking the high road!" Jeff glares. Jon: "What? It's an inch higher than the lane next to us!"
Mile 673.5 - 49 Miles to Boston!
Mile 673.8 - It's gettin cloudy!
Mile 691.3 - Mass Welcomes us!
Mile 700.0 - AHHHHHHH!
Mile 709.4 - 11 miles to Boston!
Mile 710.5 - New Black Bear exhibit at the Zoo! AHHHH!
Mile 713.4 - Hi, we can see Boston!
Mile 717.9 - We're dropping off the car in Boston!Mile 721.0 - Oh God, so lost. And we need gas before we return the stupidcar.
Mile 724.8 - Found Gas.
Mile 726.6 - Jeff & Jon drop the car off, happy to be rid of it. Too tired to function. Must die. They opt for a cab to Mollie's place where they will be staying, thus the Miley Cyrus notebook retires once and for all! Good. Day.
Day Five: Stamford, CT to Portland, Maine
Mile 254.6 – After a few days in NYC, we’re now in our new Pontiac G6. Jon & Jeff already miss driving in luxury in the Impala. Jeff is now the navigator, since the NeverLost™ is no longer in the car. Good luck with that.
Mile 259.2 – Pen explosion during Miley Cyrus Notebook recordtaking. Hi, we’re five seconds in and Jeff is already half-dead via exhaustion, starvation and ink-infection.
Idiot!
Mile 259.6 - Rest stop for coffee, bagel and hand cleanse. Once the ink is gone, Jeff dries off by using the Air Blades, which almost kill him.
Mile 261.2 – Jeff sips coffee picked up at rest stop. His tongue suffers third degree burns and perishes.
Mile 267.7 – Jeff finishes bagel he picked up at rest stop, is now slightly less dead.
Mile 270.2 – Jon puts on New Kids on the Block. Jeff perishes again.
Mile 273.1 – There’s a rap breakdown in the middle of NKOTB’s Click Click Click. There’s a mental breakdown on Jeff’s side of the car.
Mile 273.5 - Jeff pours the coffee into his ears in an attempt to block out New Kids. Sadly, the coffee is no longer scalding, but now Jeff has HazelnutEarInfection™
Mile 275.9 – Jeff is a terrible Miley.
Mile 283.1 – Jon abandons New Kids on the Block. Jeff rejoices briefly, until Jon plays Lady Gaga, so he goes back to being dead.
Mile 291.8 – We are in a Pro Cream Puff area.
Mile 292.6 – Kimberly Road. We’re seeing her soon!
Mile 294.0 – Weoooo Yale! We don’t stop.
Mile 294.8 – Hi, we’re on I 91.
Mile 295.4 – Ahhhh! Fog Area!
Mile 299.2 – Ahhhh! It’s raining pebbles! Connecticut is very dangerous!
Mile 300.6 – Jon hits his head. He continues to miss the Impala from the first half of the road trip.
Mile 304.6 – Santa Energy: "That’s how the reindeer get around," says Jeff, on his way to Comedy Jail.
Mile 330.5 – Bradley Airport! Where’s Keith again?
Mile 331.2 – Ahhh! Boston Signage! We’ll see you tomorrow!
Mile 340.8 – This is Jeff right now.
Mile 341.2 – Cruise Engaged! Jon says: “To Katie Holmes!” Jeff puts Jon in Comedy Jail, surprisingly for the first time during this trip.
Mile 343.2 – This is also Jeff right now.
Mile 347.6 – Jon rolls down the window. Jeff: “Connecticut is cold. Fuck that.”
Mile 352.8 – We get off at exit 69. Of course we do. And of course it’s wrong. Idiots.
Mile 353.0 – No longer lost; still missing NeverLost.
Mile 353.8 – Rest Area. This one has a Dunkin Donuts. Jeff cheers, gets fatter.
Mile 354.1 – Back on the road!
Mile 359.7 – Ashford, CT signage. Jon asks, “Where’s Simpson?” Jeff reminds Jon of his position in comedy jail.
Mile 367.5 – Welcome to Massachusetts!
Mile 414.0 – We’re on our way to the Natick Mall, which seems very popular.
Mile 414.5 – Parked for lunch at what we are told is the largest Mall in New England. It’s very fancy. Too fancy to be called a mall--so it refers to itself as the Natick Collection. This mall is so fancy, in fact, that you can buy a Golf Course inside!
No, thanks.
Mile 414.9 – After lunch, trapped in the Natick Mall parking lot. F’d in the A, as usual.
Mile 415.8 – Out of the mall parking lot. Good day, Natick Mall. Enjoy your fanciness.
Mile 417.6 – Despite having Crabby Patties for lunch, Jon & Jeff enjoy some Jelly Munckins, courtesy of Dunkin’ Donuts. Because, after all, America Runs on Dunkin™!
Mile 421.4 – Emilee’s Italian Ice.
This girl looks neither Italian nor happy about her position on the back of the truck.
Mile 422.5 – Jon and Jeff are fucked.
Mile 423.1 – Actually, turns out that only the Cape Cod visitors are fucked. HA!
Mile 423.4 – Ahhhh! Reduced salt area! Watch your sodium!!!
Mile 424.3 – We’re on 95 North, our home for the next 112 miles or so. It feels like a giant rumble strip. Fuck. This.
Mile 425.9 – Actually, as it turns out we’re fucked after all. Jon: “I hope to God it’s a fucking accident.”
It’s as if we’re traveling on a Holiday Weekend or something.
Mile 426.6 – “Turn off Cell” What? No! WHY? We are NOT in the air. Jon and Jeff do not cooperate.
Mile 426.9 – It took us four minutes to go one mile, everyone. J&J consider walking.
Mile 427.3 –Apparently, ramp narrows so much, it cuts off edges of sign.
Mile 427.5 – Jeff tries to placate Raaaary Traffic Jon. It does not work.
Mile 427.9 – Six Minute Mile. This could, theoretically, take nine hours.
Mile 428.6 – Jon and Jeff hear that UkeStock is in town. A ukulele convention! It’s no International Tuba Convention, but Jeff wants to go. Jon turns the radio off.
Mile 428.9 – Five minute Mile. Jeff repitches UkeStock. Jon does not respond.
Mile 429.6 – J&J see flashing lights up ahead. Jon’s prayers may be answered!
Mile 429.9 – Oooh, a three minute mile! We’re really zooming now!
Mile 430.7 – Minuteman National Park. Jon wishes we were going a mile a minute, man.
Mile 432.3 – Jon channels Bookie while listening to 90’s radio on XM. Clearly, traffic + Jon do not mix.
Mile 433.8 – Traffic goes away as everyone seems to be going to Middlesex. GET OUT!
Mile 436.5 – F’d again. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.
Mile 438.7 – We are at a dead stop. This could, theoretically, take the rest of our lives.
Mile 440.1 – Crystal says drive safely... Then cuts in front of us. If we were going more than two miles per hour, we’d be dead. If only.
Mile 449.5 – The road suddenly clears and we drive at a normal speed. Jon yells: “THE ROAD IS EMPTY! THERE WAS NO ACCIDENT! THERE WAS NOTHING!!” Jon bursts into tears.
Mile 475.5 – Entering New Hampshire. Live free or DIE!!! Jeff and Jon scream in terror.
Mile 478.6 – NH is very excited about their lottery and liquor. Because nothing says freedom and death like gambling and booze. This is Jeff’s kind of state.
Mile 491.4 – Maine state line! See you tomorrow, New Hampshire!
Mile 492.6 – Maine is sign-y. Jon: “Who are they to tell me how to live?!”
Mile 494.8 – At a rest stop littered with signs. Jeff says the rest stop is helpful...
...while Jon considers it Bossy.
Mile 495.7 – Maine. Another sign.
Mile 498.3 – Ahhhh! Rumble Strips! Fucking Maine!
Mile 500.0 – 500 Miles! Jesus, is that IT???
Mile 502.8 – People frolic in Maine.
Mile 505.9 – There should probably be a sign about this:
Mile 507.7 – Watch for Moose in Roadway. Jeff wonders where Christine McGlade is.
Mile 508.9 – Lots of Police Activity! And a man handcuffed to a pole on the side of the road. OfCOURSEJeffis.
Mile 509.8 - Welks Sanford. “And Son,” Jeff adds, still from Comedy Jail.
Mile 511.3 – 25 Miles to Portland!
Mile 515.5 – Hi, the signs all have Kilometers on them! We're next to Canada!
Mile 533.9 – Big Fat Speed Trap. Maine doesn’t take any crap from anyone. It’s not like the rules aren’t posted everywhere.
Mile 537.1 – Portland!
Mile 541.7 – Hi, there’s a cat show down the street from the hotel. We don’t stop.
Mile 541.8 - Maine: It's not just for lovers and toucans anymore.
Mile 542.1 – Hi, Holiday Inn By The Bay. Jon: “It’s not by the bay. It is three blocks away and up a hill from the bay!” Jeff says they didn't say it was "on the bay" and believes "By the Bay" to be an accurate description. Jeff wonders if anyone is even still reading this?
Mile 259.2 – Pen explosion during Miley Cyrus Notebook recordtaking. Hi, we’re five seconds in and Jeff is already half-dead via exhaustion, starvation and ink-infection.
Idiot!Mile 261.2 – Jeff sips coffee picked up at rest stop. His tongue suffers third degree burns and perishes.
Mile 267.7 – Jeff finishes bagel he picked up at rest stop, is now slightly less dead.
Mile 270.2 – Jon puts on New Kids on the Block. Jeff perishes again.
Mile 273.1 – There’s a rap breakdown in the middle of NKOTB’s Click Click Click. There’s a mental breakdown on Jeff’s side of the car.
Mile 273.5 - Jeff pours the coffee into his ears in an attempt to block out New Kids. Sadly, the coffee is no longer scalding, but now Jeff has HazelnutEarInfection™
Mile 275.9 – Jeff is a terrible Miley.
Mile 283.1 – Jon abandons New Kids on the Block. Jeff rejoices briefly, until Jon plays Lady Gaga, so he goes back to being dead.
Mile 291.8 – We are in a Pro Cream Puff area.
Mile 292.6 – Kimberly Road. We’re seeing her soon!
Mile 294.0 – Weoooo Yale! We don’t stop.
Mile 294.8 – Hi, we’re on I 91.
Mile 295.4 – Ahhhh! Fog Area!
Mile 299.2 – Ahhhh! It’s raining pebbles! Connecticut is very dangerous!
Mile 300.6 – Jon hits his head. He continues to miss the Impala from the first half of the road trip.
Mile 304.6 – Santa Energy: "That’s how the reindeer get around," says Jeff, on his way to Comedy Jail.
Mile 330.5 – Bradley Airport! Where’s Keith again?
Mile 331.2 – Ahhh! Boston Signage! We’ll see you tomorrow!
Mile 340.8 – This is Jeff right now.
Mile 341.2 – Cruise Engaged! Jon says: “To Katie Holmes!” Jeff puts Jon in Comedy Jail, surprisingly for the first time during this trip.
Mile 343.2 – This is also Jeff right now.
Mile 347.6 – Jon rolls down the window. Jeff: “Connecticut is cold. Fuck that.”
Mile 352.8 – We get off at exit 69. Of course we do. And of course it’s wrong. Idiots.
Mile 353.0 – No longer lost; still missing NeverLost.
Mile 353.8 – Rest Area. This one has a Dunkin Donuts. Jeff cheers, gets fatter.
Mile 354.1 – Back on the road!
Mile 359.7 – Ashford, CT signage. Jon asks, “Where’s Simpson?” Jeff reminds Jon of his position in comedy jail.
Mile 367.5 – Welcome to Massachusetts!
Mile 414.0 – We’re on our way to the Natick Mall, which seems very popular.
Mile 414.5 – Parked for lunch at what we are told is the largest Mall in New England. It’s very fancy. Too fancy to be called a mall--so it refers to itself as the Natick Collection. This mall is so fancy, in fact, that you can buy a Golf Course inside!
No, thanks.Mile 414.9 – After lunch, trapped in the Natick Mall parking lot. F’d in the A, as usual.
Mile 415.8 – Out of the mall parking lot. Good day, Natick Mall. Enjoy your fanciness.
Mile 417.6 – Despite having Crabby Patties for lunch, Jon & Jeff enjoy some Jelly Munckins, courtesy of Dunkin’ Donuts. Because, after all, America Runs on Dunkin™!
Mile 421.4 – Emilee’s Italian Ice.
This girl looks neither Italian nor happy about her position on the back of the truck. Mile 422.5 – Jon and Jeff are fucked.
Mile 423.1 – Actually, turns out that only the Cape Cod visitors are fucked. HA!
Mile 423.4 – Ahhhh! Reduced salt area! Watch your sodium!!!
Mile 424.3 – We’re on 95 North, our home for the next 112 miles or so. It feels like a giant rumble strip. Fuck. This.
Mile 425.9 – Actually, as it turns out we’re fucked after all. Jon: “I hope to God it’s a fucking accident.”
It’s as if we’re traveling on a Holiday Weekend or something.
Mile 426.9 – It took us four minutes to go one mile, everyone. J&J consider walking.Mile 427.3 –Apparently, ramp narrows so much, it cuts off edges of sign.
Mile 427.5 – Jeff tries to placate Raaaary Traffic Jon. It does not work.
Mile 427.9 – Six Minute Mile. This could, theoretically, take nine hours.
Mile 428.6 – Jon and Jeff hear that UkeStock is in town. A ukulele convention! It’s no International Tuba Convention, but Jeff wants to go. Jon turns the radio off.
Mile 428.9 – Five minute Mile. Jeff repitches UkeStock. Jon does not respond.
Mile 429.6 – J&J see flashing lights up ahead. Jon’s prayers may be answered!
Mile 429.9 – Oooh, a three minute mile! We’re really zooming now!
Mile 430.7 – Minuteman National Park. Jon wishes we were going a mile a minute, man.
Mile 432.3 – Jon channels Bookie while listening to 90’s radio on XM. Clearly, traffic + Jon do not mix.
Mile 433.8 – Traffic goes away as everyone seems to be going to Middlesex. GET OUT!
Mile 436.5 – F’d again. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.
Mile 438.7 – We are at a dead stop. This could, theoretically, take the rest of our lives.
Mile 440.1 – Crystal says drive safely... Then cuts in front of us. If we were going more than two miles per hour, we’d be dead. If only.
Mile 449.5 – The road suddenly clears and we drive at a normal speed. Jon yells: “THE ROAD IS EMPTY! THERE WAS NO ACCIDENT! THERE WAS NOTHING!!” Jon bursts into tears.
Mile 475.5 – Entering New Hampshire. Live free or DIE!!! Jeff and Jon scream in terror.
Mile 478.6 – NH is very excited about their lottery and liquor. Because nothing says freedom and death like gambling and booze. This is Jeff’s kind of state.
Mile 491.4 – Maine state line! See you tomorrow, New Hampshire!
Mile 492.6 – Maine is sign-y. Jon: “Who are they to tell me how to live?!”
Mile 494.8 – At a rest stop littered with signs. Jeff says the rest stop is helpful...
...while Jon considers it Bossy.
Mile 495.7 – Maine. Another sign.
Mile 498.3 – Ahhhh! Rumble Strips! Fucking Maine!
Mile 500.0 – 500 Miles! Jesus, is that IT???
Mile 502.8 – People frolic in Maine.
Mile 505.9 – There should probably be a sign about this:
Mile 507.7 – Watch for Moose in Roadway. Jeff wonders where Christine McGlade is.
Mile 508.9 – Lots of Police Activity! And a man handcuffed to a pole on the side of the road. OfCOURSEJeffis.
Mile 509.8 - Welks Sanford. “And Son,” Jeff adds, still from Comedy Jail.
Mile 511.3 – 25 Miles to Portland!
Mile 515.5 – Hi, the signs all have Kilometers on them! We're next to Canada!
Mile 533.9 – Big Fat Speed Trap. Maine doesn’t take any crap from anyone. It’s not like the rules aren’t posted everywhere.
Mile 537.1 – Portland!
Mile 541.7 – Hi, there’s a cat show down the street from the hotel. We don’t stop.
Mile 541.8 - Maine: It's not just for lovers and toucans anymore.
Mile 542.1 – Hi, Holiday Inn By The Bay. Jon: “It’s not by the bay. It is three blocks away and up a hill from the bay!” Jeff says they didn't say it was "on the bay" and believes "By the Bay" to be an accurate description. Jeff wonders if anyone is even still reading this?
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Labor Day Weekend: New England Style
Jon and I are in Boston, Mass right now. In the past 24 hours we have also been inside of Maine, New Hampshire and Connecticut.
You'll hear all about it once we fully regain consciousness.
But rest assured....we're doin' great, buddies!
You'll hear all about it once we fully regain consciousness.
But rest assured....we're doin' great, buddies!
Friday, August 29, 2008
New York City Has Many Faces
New York City is a wonderful, amazing, and terrifying place. Every time, I visit...I realize just how crazy awesome it is...and how much I could never ever live there for any extended period of time.
Now that doesn't mean that I don't have a good time when I'm there. It just means that I know deep down in my heart of hearts that if I lived there for more than three months...I would end up wandering through Central Park in nothing but camouflage shorts and a tiara, muttering to myself that Carrie Bradshaw was "full of caca."
However, this gayrageous over-exaggeration doesn't mean that I didn't have a great time in NYC for the past two days. Thanks to Aaron and Anne, this portion of East Infection 2008 was filled with plenty of NewYorkJoy.
We had Tapas and Sangria at "1492" on the Lower East Side...
...including Chorizo and Cheese Chupa Chups (a.k.a.: meat & cheese deep fried lollipops)!
We found a place that sold Tastykake Kandy Kakes at 1 in the morning!
And despite what this picture may indicate, we had a great time checking out the NYC nightlife! (Seriously. On more than one occasion, I said to Jeff: "Why don't I hate it here?")
However, things took a turn for the worse on Wednesday afternoon.
It had nothing to do with Anne, Aaron, or even New York City. It was the moment when I relinquished my navigation duties to Jeff.
Jeff wanted to surprise me with a mystery place for lunch. He explained that it was only a mile away from Aaron's place. He even Google Mapped it out to plan out our walking route.
Jeff insisted on keeping the actual location a secret, so I went along with the bit. All I knew was that the mystery location was located around 7th Avenue and Christopher.
We walked.
And walked.
And walked some more.
We kept looking for our turn onto Christopher Street off of 6th Avenue. But we just couldn't seem to find it.
About fifty minutes into the walk, I asked Jeff if he thought we missed it. He explained that the "numbers were going up" so we were on the right track.
As it turns out, we weren't.
I blame myself for not pointing out twenty minutes in that we clearly had gone more than a mile. But we were still somewhat out of it from the night before. We hadn't even taken a shower yet. And we hadn't eaten anything all day but a mini-breakfast at Au Bon Pain. Neither one of us were really in the best place to navigate anything.
Once we became certifiably lost (somewhere in the Tribeca neighborhood), we finally asked a cop for directions. He explained that we were a half hour walk away and we should probably take a cab. It was rush hour by this point, so a cab was useless. Instead, the two of us managed to hop on the proper subway train and twenty minutes later...we were there.
"There" turned out to the establishment know as the "world famous Jekyll and Hyde Restaurant and Bar of Greenwich Village."
For those that aren't "in the know," the world famous Jekyll and Hyde Restaurant and Bar of Greenwich Village is a themed established that is supposed to be like a haunted mansion...in restaurant form. Instead, it's the place where one frustrated actor tortures tourists with the "hilarious" bits involving talking animatronic wall decorations (mummies, mad scientists, etc.).
When we arrived...sweaty, smelly, and ever so slightly cranky...the animatronic werewolf head was heckling a family from Atlantic City. They were heckling the werewolf right back.
Did I mention the Werewolf spoke with a heavy lisp?
I'm sure if the two of us hadn't gotten all turned around in the supposedly easy to get around city, we would have enjoyed the "show." Instead, it felt more painful than that time we sat through "Happy Days : the Musical," starring Joey McEntire as the Fonz...the night before Carjoy.
Things went from bad to worse when the mummy (and that stupid family from Atlantic City) started giving us shit for being from Los Angeles.
It was at that moment that the Jekyll and Hyde Restaurant And Bar became Jeff's "Beck Motor Lodge"/"Someone Pooped In It" incident.
Despite the Jekyll and Hyde disaster of 2008 and my weird paranoid gay homeless nightmare, I really do enjoy all that NYC has to offer.
Especially, when it provides me with the inspiration and the requisite props to take the following photo at 7:45 in the morning...
Seriously. That place is magical.
Now that doesn't mean that I don't have a good time when I'm there. It just means that I know deep down in my heart of hearts that if I lived there for more than three months...I would end up wandering through Central Park in nothing but camouflage shorts and a tiara, muttering to myself that Carrie Bradshaw was "full of caca."
However, this gayrageous over-exaggeration doesn't mean that I didn't have a great time in NYC for the past two days. Thanks to Aaron and Anne, this portion of East Infection 2008 was filled with plenty of NewYorkJoy.
We had Tapas and Sangria at "1492" on the Lower East Side...
...including Chorizo and Cheese Chupa Chups (a.k.a.: meat & cheese deep fried lollipops)!
We found a place that sold Tastykake Kandy Kakes at 1 in the morning!
And despite what this picture may indicate, we had a great time checking out the NYC nightlife! (Seriously. On more than one occasion, I said to Jeff: "Why don't I hate it here?")
However, things took a turn for the worse on Wednesday afternoon.
It had nothing to do with Anne, Aaron, or even New York City. It was the moment when I relinquished my navigation duties to Jeff.
Jeff wanted to surprise me with a mystery place for lunch. He explained that it was only a mile away from Aaron's place. He even Google Mapped it out to plan out our walking route.
Jeff insisted on keeping the actual location a secret, so I went along with the bit. All I knew was that the mystery location was located around 7th Avenue and Christopher.
We walked.
And walked.
And walked some more.
We kept looking for our turn onto Christopher Street off of 6th Avenue. But we just couldn't seem to find it.
About fifty minutes into the walk, I asked Jeff if he thought we missed it. He explained that the "numbers were going up" so we were on the right track.
As it turns out, we weren't.
I blame myself for not pointing out twenty minutes in that we clearly had gone more than a mile. But we were still somewhat out of it from the night before. We hadn't even taken a shower yet. And we hadn't eaten anything all day but a mini-breakfast at Au Bon Pain. Neither one of us were really in the best place to navigate anything.
Once we became certifiably lost (somewhere in the Tribeca neighborhood), we finally asked a cop for directions. He explained that we were a half hour walk away and we should probably take a cab. It was rush hour by this point, so a cab was useless. Instead, the two of us managed to hop on the proper subway train and twenty minutes later...we were there.
"There" turned out to the establishment know as the "world famous Jekyll and Hyde Restaurant and Bar of Greenwich Village."
For those that aren't "in the know," the world famous Jekyll and Hyde Restaurant and Bar of Greenwich Village is a themed established that is supposed to be like a haunted mansion...in restaurant form. Instead, it's the place where one frustrated actor tortures tourists with the "hilarious" bits involving talking animatronic wall decorations (mummies, mad scientists, etc.).
When we arrived...sweaty, smelly, and ever so slightly cranky...the animatronic werewolf head was heckling a family from Atlantic City. They were heckling the werewolf right back.
Did I mention the Werewolf spoke with a heavy lisp?
I'm sure if the two of us hadn't gotten all turned around in the supposedly easy to get around city, we would have enjoyed the "show." Instead, it felt more painful than that time we sat through "Happy Days : the Musical," starring Joey McEntire as the Fonz...the night before Carjoy.
Things went from bad to worse when the mummy (and that stupid family from Atlantic City) started giving us shit for being from Los Angeles.
It was at that moment that the Jekyll and Hyde Restaurant And Bar became Jeff's "Beck Motor Lodge"/"Someone Pooped In It" incident.
* * *
Despite the Jekyll and Hyde disaster of 2008 and my weird paranoid gay homeless nightmare, I really do enjoy all that NYC has to offer.
Especially, when it provides me with the inspiration and the requisite props to take the following photo at 7:45 in the morning...
Seriously. That place is magical.
Watch Your Privates!
We went to New York City on Wednesday after having breakfast in Cape May, NJ...
...at the Rainbow Palace Diner.
Sundae, Monday, Happy Days!
Ofcoursewedid.
After leaving Bookie to die in gross Jersey, Jon and I arrived in New York where a very excited Aaron...
...graciously let us stay at his place. Aaron's friend Jimmy joined us and the four of us went to dinner at and Italian place called Frank's:
The restaurant was pretty tiny--so tiny, in fact, that we had to share a table with three strangers who were already seated and eating. And by 'table' I mean 'ancient desk with wooden legs, a metal top, and some drawers.'
The guy at the end of the table was very tall and looked somewhat familiar. With him was a distinguished looking gray-haired gentleman and a red-headed woman who I could tell would be trouble the second I laid eyes on her.
We ordered some wine and Aaron, Jon, Jimmy and I were all catching up when Red interjects: "Excuse me, what do you guys do? You look like you work in computers.”
What? Why? Because one of us was wearing glasses? I'm not really sure what she was trying to do, but she certainly managed to capture our attention. We explained that none of us, in fact, work in computers. Once she heard that some of us might work in Reality TV, her ears perked up.
I asked what she did for a living and she explained that she is the tall man’s assistant, and mentioned that we likely didn't know who he was, since he was "before our time." She continued to talk at such a breakneck pace, we couldn’t actually ask any questions in order to figure out who the tall man was.
Soon, they paid their bill and headed on out. As her gray-haired companion stood up, trying to squeeze his way out from the table, Barbara shouted to him, "Watch your privates!” The man turned red, escaped with his privates largely unharmed (mostly because they shriveled at the sound of her voice, I'm sure) and all three exited.
As we discussed who the tall man might have been, the red-headed woman returned to ask us for some business cards. Sadly, I have none, but Jon was able to accommodate her. Through this interaction, we learn that her name is Barbara, and that the tall man is famed doo-wop artist Kenny Vance...
...whose name we did not recognize.
After Barbara left, we marveled at the fact that she returned to fill in the blanks for us, and at least give us a starting point to figure out exactly who he is.
We were even more shocked when, almost ten full minutes later, she came back again to hand us an article featured in the current issue of Elmore Magazine, which provides all the details you need to know about Kenny Vance. (His band, Jay & The Americans, opened for both the Beatles and The Rolling Stones in each bands' first performances in the US)
Sadly, even after learning about all of Kenny Vance's accomplishments during his fifty years in music... all I will ever be able to think of is his assistant screaming "Watch Your Privates!' This is why New York City is great. The people here are just amazing.
After dinner, Aaron took us on a walking tour of some of New York's gayest bars and clubs ever. I'll spare you most of the gory details. . .
. . .but we definitely saw some very interesting characters (though none quite as colorful as Private-Watcher Barbara.)
For instance, there was the guy who donned cammo shorts and this t-shirt:
He was alone.
Then there was the guy in his early 70's who was walking into the bar who was walking into the bar as we were leaving. The gentleman was using a cane and had on a smartly pressed button-down blue shirt... to which this button was affixed:
He, too, had no companion.
Then there was the run-in with the police, as Aaron and Jimmy tried to jump a fence...
Watch your privates, Jimmy!
...in order to sit on this plastic cow:
Mooove Away from the Cow.
The cop sirened us, but didn't bother to get out of his cruiser as we scampered away.
Our final night in New York was spent with Aaron at Splash, where this pretty cute guy stopped me to chat. I thought "My lord, it is so easy to meet guys on the east coast!" Then, as he began to speak, I realized his breath smelled as though he had spent the better part of the day licking the railings in the subway. I had to ask him to reintroduce himself, because I was too busy gagging to hear his name the first time.
"My name is Doug," he replied. "It's like God, backwards. With a little bit of 'u' in it."
Needless to say, Doug would not be watching my privates.
...at the Rainbow Palace Diner.
Sundae, Monday, Happy Days!
After leaving Bookie to die in gross Jersey, Jon and I arrived in New York where a very excited Aaron...
...graciously let us stay at his place. Aaron's friend Jimmy joined us and the four of us went to dinner at and Italian place called Frank's:
The restaurant was pretty tiny--so tiny, in fact, that we had to share a table with three strangers who were already seated and eating. And by 'table' I mean 'ancient desk with wooden legs, a metal top, and some drawers.'
The guy at the end of the table was very tall and looked somewhat familiar. With him was a distinguished looking gray-haired gentleman and a red-headed woman who I could tell would be trouble the second I laid eyes on her.
We ordered some wine and Aaron, Jon, Jimmy and I were all catching up when Red interjects: "Excuse me, what do you guys do? You look like you work in computers.”
What? Why? Because one of us was wearing glasses? I'm not really sure what she was trying to do, but she certainly managed to capture our attention. We explained that none of us, in fact, work in computers. Once she heard that some of us might work in Reality TV, her ears perked up.
I asked what she did for a living and she explained that she is the tall man’s assistant, and mentioned that we likely didn't know who he was, since he was "before our time." She continued to talk at such a breakneck pace, we couldn’t actually ask any questions in order to figure out who the tall man was.
Soon, they paid their bill and headed on out. As her gray-haired companion stood up, trying to squeeze his way out from the table, Barbara shouted to him, "Watch your privates!” The man turned red, escaped with his privates largely unharmed (mostly because they shriveled at the sound of her voice, I'm sure) and all three exited.
As we discussed who the tall man might have been, the red-headed woman returned to ask us for some business cards. Sadly, I have none, but Jon was able to accommodate her. Through this interaction, we learn that her name is Barbara, and that the tall man is famed doo-wop artist Kenny Vance...
...whose name we did not recognize.
After Barbara left, we marveled at the fact that she returned to fill in the blanks for us, and at least give us a starting point to figure out exactly who he is.
We were even more shocked when, almost ten full minutes later, she came back again to hand us an article featured in the current issue of Elmore Magazine, which provides all the details you need to know about Kenny Vance. (His band, Jay & The Americans, opened for both the Beatles and The Rolling Stones in each bands' first performances in the US)
Sadly, even after learning about all of Kenny Vance's accomplishments during his fifty years in music... all I will ever be able to think of is his assistant screaming "Watch Your Privates!' This is why New York City is great. The people here are just amazing.
After dinner, Aaron took us on a walking tour of some of New York's gayest bars and clubs ever. I'll spare you most of the gory details. . .
. . .but we definitely saw some very interesting characters (though none quite as colorful as Private-Watcher Barbara.)
For instance, there was the guy who donned cammo shorts and this t-shirt:
He was alone.Then there was the guy in his early 70's who was walking into the bar who was walking into the bar as we were leaving. The gentleman was using a cane and had on a smartly pressed button-down blue shirt... to which this button was affixed:
He, too, had no companion.Then there was the run-in with the police, as Aaron and Jimmy tried to jump a fence...
Watch your privates, Jimmy!
Mooove Away from the Cow.Our final night in New York was spent with Aaron at Splash, where this pretty cute guy stopped me to chat. I thought "My lord, it is so easy to meet guys on the east coast!" Then, as he began to speak, I realized his breath smelled as though he had spent the better part of the day licking the railings in the subway. I had to ask him to reintroduce himself, because I was too busy gagging to hear his name the first time.
"My name is Doug," he replied. "It's like God, backwards. With a little bit of 'u' in it."
Needless to say, Doug would not be watching my privates.
We'll tell you later...
Nobody said being on a road trip was easy...
....some nights are rougher than others.
Ugh.
....some nights are rougher than others.
Ugh.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Day Three : North Cape May, NJ to New York City, NY
Mile 109.4 - And we're off! Bye Precious Memories!
Mile 110.5 - Disaster as the NeverLost almost leads us astray. Again.
Mile 118.4 - We have to avoid a girl texting and driving on the NJ Parkway. At 65 mph. We may perish.
Mile 130.1 - We use the Hertz car's built in EZ Pass. It lives up to it's name.
Mile 135.3 - Jeff starts applying cream to his "east infection" (a.k.a.: his mosquito bites). Jon remains east infection free.
Mile 147.9 - Last chance for Atlantic City!
We don't stop.
Mile 152.5 - First Rest Stop of the Trip. Nothing interesting happens here.
Mile 187.7 - We pass an exit for "Berkley."
Jon wants to know where Elizabeth is.
Mile 207.5 - East Infection 2008 cools off with a fall of rain. It can hardly hurt us now.
Mile 213.4 - Bradley Beach!
Where's Keith?
Mile 218.2 - Jeff declares that it finally smells like Jersey. Jon thinks it finally smells a little grody.
Mile 247.8 - We find Elizabeth!
Mile 253.6 - Confused at the Newark Airport. Ofcourseweare.
Mile 254.6 - We're saying goodbye to the Impala and the NeverLost at the Newark Airport!
I'm sure it's all verySad.
Mile "Who The Hell Knows" -- We're in NYC! At Aaron's!
WeeeeooOOOoooOOOoo!
Mile 110.5 - Disaster as the NeverLost almost leads us astray. Again.
Mile 118.4 - We have to avoid a girl texting and driving on the NJ Parkway. At 65 mph. We may perish.
Mile 130.1 - We use the Hertz car's built in EZ Pass. It lives up to it's name.
Mile 135.3 - Jeff starts applying cream to his "east infection" (a.k.a.: his mosquito bites). Jon remains east infection free.
Mile 147.9 - Last chance for Atlantic City!
We don't stop.
Mile 152.5 - First Rest Stop of the Trip. Nothing interesting happens here.
Mile 187.7 - We pass an exit for "Berkley."
Jon wants to know where Elizabeth is.
Mile 207.5 - East Infection 2008 cools off with a fall of rain. It can hardly hurt us now.
Mile 213.4 - Bradley Beach!
Where's Keith?
Mile 218.2 - Jeff declares that it finally smells like Jersey. Jon thinks it finally smells a little grody.
Mile 247.8 - We find Elizabeth!
Mile 253.6 - Confused at the Newark Airport. Ofcourseweare.
Mile 254.6 - We're saying goodbye to the Impala and the NeverLost at the Newark Airport!
I'm sure it's all verySad.
Mile "Who The Hell Knows" -- We're in NYC! At Aaron's!
WeeeeooOOOoooOOOoo!
I Went To Wildwood And All I Got Was This Awesome T-Shirt
Despite the fact that I grew up only a Ferry ride away, I have never actually set foot in New Jersey (beyond the occasional rest stop on the way to NYC and beyond).
OK, that's a b-lie. I'd been there once. It was in Camden. It was for Lollapalooza, the year of Pavement and Cyprus Hill. So I don't feel like that counts.
What I'm trying to say is that when Jeff, Bookie, and I made our way onto the Boardwalk in Wildwood, I had no idea what to expect...beyond what I'd read and seen on my favorite blog of all time, FourFour. Jeff and Bookie were hyping it up so much that I was expecting to see greatness. I wasn't disappointed.
On our way there, we passed by the following sign...
...clearly someone was trying to tell us something. And so, we attempted to call the number to find out who would pick up.
It only took us five minutes to realize that it wasn't a real number (Hi...P-R-A-Y-E-R only equals six digits).
After an extended moment in Jeff's former place of employment (the arcade/casino known as Gateway 26), we ventured out onto "America's Boardwalk" to enjoy the sights.
America's Boardwalk is apparently full of pregnant and scared women.
America's Boardwalk is also full of hidden political discourse.
America's Boardwalk doesn't care about the disabled.
America's Boardwalk is full of Cheese Whiz.
America's Boardwalk doesn't care for foreigners.
Girls love America's Boardwalk.
And last, but certainly not least...
...America's Boardwalk wants you to WATCH THE TRAM CAR PLEASE.
As we were wandering down America's Boardwalk, I was struck with a bit of inspiration. To memorialize this part of the road trip, we needed to get commemorative, custom air-brushed "East Infection 2008" t-shirts.
We wandered in and out of multiple T-Shirt shops, but all of the airbrushers appeared to have gone home for the night.
All except for Captain Airbrush.
We walked into the store just as Captain Airbrush was airbrushing a giant wave on a giant T-shirt. I was sold on Captain Airbrush as soon as I saw his hair. It consisted of at least four to five bright pastel colors. All various shades of pink, purple, and yellow. Clearly, the Captain was our man.
Once he finished his work on the wave, Captain Airbrush approached us and then patiently waited as we figured out the perfect layout for the perfect T-shirt. We settled on a cartoon jalopy surrounded by the words - "East Infection 2008." We told Captain Airbrush our plan and he barely raised an eyebrow. He looked off into the distance for a moment, as if he was lost deep in thought. When he finally returned to earth, he informed us that the shirts would cost us forty dollars and that we could pick them up tomorrow anytime after 4 pm.
Jeff explained that we had to leave town by one pm and that we needed the T-shirts tonight. Captain Airbrush explained that if we wanted the shirts tonight, we had to simplify our design. So much to Jeff's chagrin, we cut out the cartoon jalopy. Suddenly the price was now 25 dollars a shirt. And more importantly, our shirts would be ready in an hour.
We left Captain Airbrush to work his magic, buttwenty minutes later...we found ourselves drawn back in...just so we could watch the master at work.
It was all quite mesmerizing.
Once he finalized the t-shirts in some sort of giant press, Captain Airbrush packed up his latest pieces of artwork and handed them over to us. He explained that as long as we followed his instructions (wash in cold water only, air dry only)...these shirts would last forever.
So fifty years from now, when Jeff and I can barely remember the Cheese Whiz pizza, the political paintball setup, and the scared pregnant girls that populate America's Boardwalk...
...we'll still have Captain Airbrush.
OK, that's a b-lie. I'd been there once. It was in Camden. It was for Lollapalooza, the year of Pavement and Cyprus Hill. So I don't feel like that counts.
What I'm trying to say is that when Jeff, Bookie, and I made our way onto the Boardwalk in Wildwood, I had no idea what to expect...beyond what I'd read and seen on my favorite blog of all time, FourFour. Jeff and Bookie were hyping it up so much that I was expecting to see greatness. I wasn't disappointed.
On our way there, we passed by the following sign...
...clearly someone was trying to tell us something. And so, we attempted to call the number to find out who would pick up.
It only took us five minutes to realize that it wasn't a real number (Hi...P-R-A-Y-E-R only equals six digits).
After an extended moment in Jeff's former place of employment (the arcade/casino known as Gateway 26), we ventured out onto "America's Boardwalk" to enjoy the sights.
America's Boardwalk is apparently full of pregnant and scared women.
America's Boardwalk is also full of hidden political discourse.
America's Boardwalk doesn't care about the disabled.
America's Boardwalk is full of Cheese Whiz.
America's Boardwalk doesn't care for foreigners.
Girls love America's Boardwalk.
And last, but certainly not least...
...America's Boardwalk wants you to WATCH THE TRAM CAR PLEASE.
* * *
As we were wandering down America's Boardwalk, I was struck with a bit of inspiration. To memorialize this part of the road trip, we needed to get commemorative, custom air-brushed "East Infection 2008" t-shirts.
We wandered in and out of multiple T-Shirt shops, but all of the airbrushers appeared to have gone home for the night.
All except for Captain Airbrush.
We walked into the store just as Captain Airbrush was airbrushing a giant wave on a giant T-shirt. I was sold on Captain Airbrush as soon as I saw his hair. It consisted of at least four to five bright pastel colors. All various shades of pink, purple, and yellow. Clearly, the Captain was our man.
Once he finished his work on the wave, Captain Airbrush approached us and then patiently waited as we figured out the perfect layout for the perfect T-shirt. We settled on a cartoon jalopy surrounded by the words - "East Infection 2008." We told Captain Airbrush our plan and he barely raised an eyebrow. He looked off into the distance for a moment, as if he was lost deep in thought. When he finally returned to earth, he informed us that the shirts would cost us forty dollars and that we could pick them up tomorrow anytime after 4 pm.
Jeff explained that we had to leave town by one pm and that we needed the T-shirts tonight. Captain Airbrush explained that if we wanted the shirts tonight, we had to simplify our design. So much to Jeff's chagrin, we cut out the cartoon jalopy. Suddenly the price was now 25 dollars a shirt. And more importantly, our shirts would be ready in an hour.
We left Captain Airbrush to work his magic, buttwenty minutes later...we found ourselves drawn back in...just so we could watch the master at work.
It was all quite mesmerizing.
Once he finalized the t-shirts in some sort of giant press, Captain Airbrush packed up his latest pieces of artwork and handed them over to us. He explained that as long as we followed his instructions (wash in cold water only, air dry only)...these shirts would last forever.
So fifty years from now, when Jeff and I can barely remember the Cheese Whiz pizza, the political paintball setup, and the scared pregnant girls that populate America's Boardwalk...
...we'll still have Captain Airbrush.
A Shore Thing
First of all--Jon and I are in NYC right now: The City that Never Sleeps! Unless you're us, in which case you sleep till noon. We're a little bit behind on blogging, which I hope isn't as confusing to you as it is to us.
A sample conversation:
Jeff: "When was Wildwood? Was that yesterday?"
Jon: "No. That was on Day Two. This is Day Four."
Jeff: "When was Day Three?"
Jon: "I think it was Yesterday."
Jeff: "All day?"
The problem is, we're a day behind on the blog and suddenly it's more complicated than the LOST timeline.
To catch you up, I'll start with Cape May, NJ, where, as Jon mentioned in his post, my parents have a vacation home. Every weekend throughout my youth, my parents would take the two hour trip from Philly to The Shore to hang out in Cape May--and they would drag my bony ass with them since I was only eight or nine years old & my brothers and sister were all deviants who weren't to be trusted with their precious baby brother. (Hi, Donna poured Orange Juice into my cereal because we were out of milk. Not. Very. Maternal.)
Just before she tried to kill me.
Bookie joined us for this Shore Excursion. I think his favorite part was going to the supermarket. Ofcourseitwas:
It's Pronounced "Ack-A-Me"
Afterwards, we went to dinner at the Lobster House...
...which, as you can see, is very fancy with a very strict dress code:
We met up with my nephew Jimmy and his 18 year-old girlfriend Chelsea who is, as she puts it, "really robbing the cradle" by dating my 17 year-old nephew.
Of course, no matter how young they are, they are both still way more mature than any of us:
Idiot!
Afterwards, Bookie & I took Jon out for a genuine Wildwood Adventure.
You see, if you grew up in Philly, when your parents told you that you were going To The Shore, it was pretty much the best thing that could ever happen to anyone ever... and we went there every single summer for as long as I can remember.
Yes...my shirt says "Jeffrey Italian Stallion" on it.
And Yes, I'm also playing with my bubble-vac. OfcourseIam.
Wildwood is nestled along the Jersey Coastline, with a two-mile long boardwalk full of rides...
Closed Ferris Wheel!
...games...
Grab That Dough!
...and food you don't need, but desperately want to have in your mouth...
Technically not on the boardwalk...but still.
...well, maybe.
Because of the vacation house, I spent a lot of my youth (and a lot of my change) in and around Wildwood... in particular, at one of those arcades that gives you coupons when you play their games, enabling you to get cheap-ass merchandise that would cost you a tenth of what you paid to win it if you went to a store to get it. I spent so much time at this place, they eventually just gave me a job:
I worked at Gateway 26 on weekends throughout most of high school and all summer long while school was out, so it was weird to go in there and see that it tripled in size, yet still remained pretty much the same.
While I was in there, I approached the owner who, as it turns out, is in the process of selling the business to an old co-worker of mine--both of whom remembered me from when I worked there over fifteen years ago. (Although the owner did ask me if I ever became a chef, which means he confused me with this super-annoying guy who once hit his head on the fans above the Skee Ball machines. That ruled.)
As we caught up on old times, another co-worker who is still there came by and said hello. He mentioned that Weird Al was playing at the Wildwood Convention Center not too long ago, and they all wondered if I would be there, because, somehow, when they think of Weird Al, they think of me. None of them seemed surprised when I told them that I now occasionally work for Al... just like I wasn't really surprised to learn that these people were still around the arcade fifteen years later.
We played some games...
... and got some of the aforementioned lame prizes...
Pig Bandanna, anyone?
Jon with East Infection's Biggest Fan.
...and then ate some genuine Wildwood soft-serve at the Kohr Brothers ice cream stand located just outside of Gateway 26...
...complete with Rainbow Jimmies:
So, basically, that night encapsulated everything I did with my high school summers. Arcades, Ice Cream and Deviant Friends:
Is it weird that we're at our happiest when we have food and/or when we're mad?
And that's what Wildwood is all about. Oh no wait... Wildwood is actually about the rides. But they were closed. Oh well... There's always Road Trip 2009...
A sample conversation:
Jeff: "When was Wildwood? Was that yesterday?"
Jon: "No. That was on Day Two. This is Day Four."
Jeff: "When was Day Three?"
Jon: "I think it was Yesterday."
Jeff: "All day?"
The problem is, we're a day behind on the blog and suddenly it's more complicated than the LOST timeline.
To catch you up, I'll start with Cape May, NJ, where, as Jon mentioned in his post, my parents have a vacation home. Every weekend throughout my youth, my parents would take the two hour trip from Philly to The Shore to hang out in Cape May--and they would drag my bony ass with them since I was only eight or nine years old & my brothers and sister were all deviants who weren't to be trusted with their precious baby brother. (Hi, Donna poured Orange Juice into my cereal because we were out of milk. Not. Very. Maternal.)
Just before she tried to kill me.Bookie joined us for this Shore Excursion. I think his favorite part was going to the supermarket. Ofcourseitwas:
It's Pronounced "Ack-A-Me"Afterwards, we went to dinner at the Lobster House...
...which, as you can see, is very fancy with a very strict dress code:
We met up with my nephew Jimmy and his 18 year-old girlfriend Chelsea who is, as she puts it, "really robbing the cradle" by dating my 17 year-old nephew.
Of course, no matter how young they are, they are both still way more mature than any of us:
Idiot!Afterwards, Bookie & I took Jon out for a genuine Wildwood Adventure.
You see, if you grew up in Philly, when your parents told you that you were going To The Shore, it was pretty much the best thing that could ever happen to anyone ever... and we went there every single summer for as long as I can remember.
Yes...my shirt says "Jeffrey Italian Stallion" on it.And Yes, I'm also playing with my bubble-vac. OfcourseIam.
Wildwood is nestled along the Jersey Coastline, with a two-mile long boardwalk full of rides...
Closed Ferris Wheel!
Grab That Dough!
Technically not on the boardwalk...but still.Because of the vacation house, I spent a lot of my youth (and a lot of my change) in and around Wildwood... in particular, at one of those arcades that gives you coupons when you play their games, enabling you to get cheap-ass merchandise that would cost you a tenth of what you paid to win it if you went to a store to get it. I spent so much time at this place, they eventually just gave me a job:
I worked at Gateway 26 on weekends throughout most of high school and all summer long while school was out, so it was weird to go in there and see that it tripled in size, yet still remained pretty much the same.
While I was in there, I approached the owner who, as it turns out, is in the process of selling the business to an old co-worker of mine--both of whom remembered me from when I worked there over fifteen years ago. (Although the owner did ask me if I ever became a chef, which means he confused me with this super-annoying guy who once hit his head on the fans above the Skee Ball machines. That ruled.)
As we caught up on old times, another co-worker who is still there came by and said hello. He mentioned that Weird Al was playing at the Wildwood Convention Center not too long ago, and they all wondered if I would be there, because, somehow, when they think of Weird Al, they think of me. None of them seemed surprised when I told them that I now occasionally work for Al... just like I wasn't really surprised to learn that these people were still around the arcade fifteen years later.
We played some games...
... and got some of the aforementioned lame prizes...
Pig Bandanna, anyone?
Jon with East Infection's Biggest Fan....and then ate some genuine Wildwood soft-serve at the Kohr Brothers ice cream stand located just outside of Gateway 26...
...complete with Rainbow Jimmies:
So, basically, that night encapsulated everything I did with my high school summers. Arcades, Ice Cream and Deviant Friends:
Is it weird that we're at our happiest when we have food and/or when we're mad?And that's what Wildwood is all about. Oh no wait... Wildwood is actually about the rides. But they were closed. Oh well... There's always Road Trip 2009...
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Cape May is full of Precious Memories
After a semi-rough ride on the Cape May-Lewes Ferry...
...Jeff and I arrived at his parent's summer house in North Cape May, NJ.
It may be the most magical place on earth.
Seriously.
I never want to leave.
NEVER.
EVER.
Especially when there are so many precious memories to put in a can...
Beanies Babies In A Can.
Boy On A Stump In A Can.
Pirate Clock In A Can.
Ladies Who Lunch In A Can.
Boy With Glasses In A Wagon In a Can.
And, on top of it all, there are many hidden treasures to uncover...
Yes.
That's who you think it is.
...Jeff and I arrived at his parent's summer house in North Cape May, NJ.
It may be the most magical place on earth.
Seriously.
I never want to leave.
NEVER.
EVER.
Especially when there are so many precious memories to put in a can...
Beanies Babies In A Can.
Boy On A Stump In A Can.
Pirate Clock In A Can.
Ladies Who Lunch In A Can.
Boy With Glasses In A Wagon In a Can.
And, on top of it all, there are many hidden treasures to uncover...
Yes.
That's who you think it is.
(Almost) On The Way to Cape May...
Yesterday morning, Mama & Papa Ru came down to Rehoboth beach to have breakfast with Jon & I.
Mama Ru also reunited me with my phone, which I stupidly left at their house in Dover, Delaware. We took The Parents Ru back to the Bewitched Bed & Breakfast, along with the nail & hook they brought with them, so that Jon could repair the damage done during the Great Bombay Fiasco of 2008:
Jon carefully aligns the nail and hook...
...as his proud parents watch.
Success!
Having fixed our room, we said goodbye to the Bewitched Bed & Breakfast and took a little time to wander the neighborhood again with the Parents Ru:
A Rare Picassaraptor™
It's Christmas all Year Round in Rehoboth! And Halloween as well, apparently.
Bam's Mom will be signing her new book in Rehoboth! I'm VERYsorry I'll be missing it.
Beachy Rus!
Mama Ru also reunited me with my phone, which I stupidly left at their house in Dover, Delaware. We took The Parents Ru back to the Bewitched Bed & Breakfast, along with the nail & hook they brought with them, so that Jon could repair the damage done during the Great Bombay Fiasco of 2008:
Jon carefully aligns the nail and hook...
...as his proud parents watch.
Success!Having fixed our room, we said goodbye to the Bewitched Bed & Breakfast and took a little time to wander the neighborhood again with the Parents Ru:
A Rare Picassaraptor™
It's Christmas all Year Round in Rehoboth! And Halloween as well, apparently.
Bam's Mom will be signing her new book in Rehoboth! I'm VERYsorry I'll be missing it.
Beachy Rus!Afterwards, Jon and I stopped in a local K-mart to pick up a duffel bag. While an angry, elderly woman named Tootsie rang up my purchase, Jon noticed a little bit of dried blood coming from just below my lip. I'm not really sure how it happened. Did I sustain a crab-related injury from the night before? Or is there a Flesh Eating Disease ravaging Rehoboth? Whatever the case may be, I wiped it off just as Tootsie handed over a receipt for me to sign.
Tootsie snarled: "Are you gonna use my pen now?" I laughed, but she was deadly serious. She did not want whatever infectious disease was causing my spontaneous bleeding.
Without another choice, I did, in fact, use Tootsie's pen, which I placed back on the counter. The scowl on her face grew as she stared at the infected pen sitting on the counter as Jon and I took our purchases and left.
I'm sure that pen is still there, waiting for a Hazmat crew to investigate.
Afterwards, Jon and I headed off to the Cape May/Lewis Ferry to begin our Wildwood/Cape May adventure!
Which, since we're already running late to get to NYC, you'll just have to read about later...
Have a nice day.
Tootsie snarled: "Are you gonna use my pen now?" I laughed, but she was deadly serious. She did not want whatever infectious disease was causing my spontaneous bleeding.
Without another choice, I did, in fact, use Tootsie's pen, which I placed back on the counter. The scowl on her face grew as she stared at the infected pen sitting on the counter as Jon and I took our purchases and left.
I'm sure that pen is still there, waiting for a Hazmat crew to investigate.
Afterwards, Jon and I headed off to the Cape May/Lewis Ferry to begin our Wildwood/Cape May adventure!
Which, since we're already running late to get to NYC, you'll just have to read about later...
Have a nice day.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Day Two : Rehoboth Beach, DE to North Cape May, NJ
Mile 61.1 - We're off! Bye Bewitched B & B!
Bye MamaRu and PapaRu!
Bye Rehomo!
Mile 63.0 - Quick Stop at Big Kmart! Jeff buys a duffle bag from "Tootsie." She is handsomer than Dustin Hoffman.
Mile 64.7 - SAKETUMI is a Restaurant!
This is Keith's bit! In Restaurant form.
Mile 65.7 - The Impala tries to eat Jon's pen while Jeff almost misses his turn. Jeff and Jon blame this near disaster on the Hertz NeverLost, which is NeverHelpful...
Except when it is.
Mile 67.1 - We're in Lewes, Delaware! I don't know if you've heard, but it's the first town in the first state.
Mile 69.0 - We've arrived at the Cape May-Lewes Ferry!
The Ad tells us "For Pete's sake, take the Boat!" So we're gonna!
Mile 69.1 - God smiles. The waters part. And the Cape May-Lewes Ferry finally docks in Cape May, NJ. Much to the relief of Jon, who felt like he was about to perish (the waters were very agitated today...just like a A & W Root Beer float.)
Mile 69.2 - And we're in Jersey! I'm sure it's VERYnice here.
Mile 72.2 - AHhhhhhhh! We are entering the Cape Woods!
Mile 72.5 - And we've arrived at the Nucera summer house. Home of the most patriotic mailbox ever.
Note the four American flags.
That's Four Times the Patriotism!
Bye MamaRu and PapaRu!
Bye Rehomo!
Mile 63.0 - Quick Stop at Big Kmart! Jeff buys a duffle bag from "Tootsie." She is handsomer than Dustin Hoffman.
Mile 64.7 - SAKETUMI is a Restaurant!
This is Keith's bit! In Restaurant form.
Mile 65.7 - The Impala tries to eat Jon's pen while Jeff almost misses his turn. Jeff and Jon blame this near disaster on the Hertz NeverLost, which is NeverHelpful...
Except when it is.
Mile 67.1 - We're in Lewes, Delaware! I don't know if you've heard, but it's the first town in the first state.
Mile 69.0 - We've arrived at the Cape May-Lewes Ferry!
The Ad tells us "For Pete's sake, take the Boat!" So we're gonna!
Mile 69.1 - God smiles. The waters part. And the Cape May-Lewes Ferry finally docks in Cape May, NJ. Much to the relief of Jon, who felt like he was about to perish (the waters were very agitated today...just like a A & W Root Beer float.)
Mile 69.2 - And we're in Jersey! I'm sure it's VERYnice here.
Mile 72.2 - AHhhhhhhh! We are entering the Cape Woods!
Mile 72.5 - And we've arrived at the Nucera summer house. Home of the most patriotic mailbox ever.
Note the four American flags.
That's Four Times the Patriotism!
I Went To Rehoboth and All I Got Were Some Lousy Crabs (Although they weren't lousy)
I'd never been to Rehoboth Beach before yesterday. I've heard of it through Jon, who refers to it as "Rehomo" because of the high percentage of 'mos who frequent the city. In fact, when I told my friend's mother that I was going to Rehoboth the other day, she laughed and said, "Of course you are."
Ofcourseshedid.
After arriving in Rehoboth and getting our bearings at the lesbian-owned Bewitched Bed & Breakfast, Jon and I walked to the beach and found the "gay area"--which officially begins at "Queen Street." Ofcourseitdoes.
OfcourseIam
We wandered around and explored the ocean life...
A rare Beach Mermaid
AHHH! RustyLandFish!
...guarded some lives at the verycrowded beach...
...and then headed off to dinner at a local Crabbery, which was recommended to us by the guy at the Bed & Breakfast. He was even helpful enough to give us directions (Drive north until you pass the Jippy Loo!) and, once we deciphered that he meant "Jiffy Lube" we came upon Lazy Susans!
Despite growing up on the east coast, I'd never had real, fresh crabs before and the whole process was a little overwhelming:
The Arrival
The Inspection
The Attempt
The Failure.
To be honest, I didn't see what all the fuss was about. I couldn't even chew on them! Then Jon told me that I had to hammer the shit out of them and break their shell open before devouring them, and that made a lot more sense.
Jon: "Don't be an idiot"
Jeff: "Oh."
After a few moments, my primal instincts took over and I really got into the groove of ripping open another creature and devouring its innards. DELICIOUS! Afterwards...
Burp!
...Jon and I went to a couple of the local gay bars. Jon wanted to head to the Blue Moon (for reasons which he will get into in his post) first. It was more crowded than I expected for a small beach town on a Monday night... but it was about as sad as I thought it would be. It was essentially like walking into a bad episode of Queer As Folk. Afterwards, we went to the Aqua Grille because A: There were only about seven other people in it and B: one of them was a hot, shirtless waiter from Serbia.
After we drank a little bit of our faces off, Jon and I went for a walk and discovered a late-night ice cream shoppe featuring hundreds of extremely random and off-putting flavors which, of course, are perfect for the intoxicated.
Since bacon always makes me feel better after drinking, we decided to taste-test it...
...which did not end well for Jon:
That is NOT Kosher!
We then each got a scoop of the most delicious flavor ever:
Little bits of my favorite TastyKake product, mixed in with Peanut Butter ice cream was the perfect antidote to the poison devil-made bacon ice cream which, sadly, I can still feel in my teeth almost 24 hours later.
Now we're in Cape May, NJ--and you'll hear all about that... later.
Ofcourseshedid.
After arriving in Rehoboth and getting our bearings at the lesbian-owned Bewitched Bed & Breakfast, Jon and I walked to the beach and found the "gay area"--which officially begins at "Queen Street." Ofcourseitdoes.
OfcourseIam
A rare Beach MermaidAHHH! RustyLandFish!
...and then headed off to dinner at a local Crabbery, which was recommended to us by the guy at the Bed & Breakfast. He was even helpful enough to give us directions (Drive north until you pass the Jippy Loo!) and, once we deciphered that he meant "Jiffy Lube" we came upon Lazy Susans!
Despite growing up on the east coast, I'd never had real, fresh crabs before and the whole process was a little overwhelming:
The Arrival
The Inspection
The Attempt
The Failure.
Jon: "Don't be an idiot"
Jeff: "Oh."Burp!After we drank a little bit of our faces off, Jon and I went for a walk and discovered a late-night ice cream shoppe featuring hundreds of extremely random and off-putting flavors which, of course, are perfect for the intoxicated.
Since bacon always makes me feel better after drinking, we decided to taste-test it...
...which did not end well for Jon:
That is NOT Kosher!
Little bits of my favorite TastyKake product, mixed in with Peanut Butter ice cream was the perfect antidote to the poison devil-made bacon ice cream which, sadly, I can still feel in my teeth almost 24 hours later.Now we're in Cape May, NJ--and you'll hear all about that... later.
One Night In Rehomo. Finally.
I have a long and somewhat sordid history with the town of Rehoboth Beach. I grew up about forty-five minutes away in Dover. Almost every year (from the time I was born until somewhere in my mid-teens), my entire family would spend a week there. We'd rent a townhouse, bodysurf in the Ocean, ride the rides at Funland, walk the Boardwalk, play mini-golf, eat crabs at the Rusty Rudder, and spend humid summer nights playing extended games of Balderdash.
Needless to say, I enjoyed every minute of it. Until the summer that my dad showed me "Jaws." The night before we spent a week at the beach. I was ten years-old. After that, I enjoyed everything about the beach...except going in the ocean past my waist.
The summer I was thirteen, I'd pretty much hit puberty. I'd grown hair "down there." My shoe size was changing almost monthly. And I was started to develop my first real crush. On Vanilla Ice.
For some reason, my parents had tried to set me up on a "teenage boy play date" with my Mom's best friend's son, "Danny." Danny lived in Rehoboth all summer long, so he knew all the "cool" places to go. And by "cool," I mean the arcades.
As we were shuffling around the main drag, we passed by a windowless bar called "Blue Moon" that had monitors facing out onto the sidewalk. They were playing videos I'd never seen before and didn't understand (I swear to god one monitor was playing something involving a man singing and dancing in a giant bunny suit). I tried to stop and watch the videos, but Danny pushed me along...explaining that it was a place for "fruits." Suddenly, I realized that this nondescript blue storefront was a bar for gay people.
At that time, thanks to the liberal use of "fag" as a put down in junior high, being gay was the last thing I wanted to be. I had read a book on puberty that explained same-sex attraction was sometimes just a phase, so I'd convinced myself that I was just in one of those "phases." Yet that moment in front of the Blue Moon, where Danny called it a place for "fruits" stuck with me. Weeks. Months. Even years later.
It was around that same time I discovered that Rehoboth Beach, the place of my childhood vacations, had more than one gay bar. It had become a summer vacation spot for older gay men and women (mostly from the DC-metro area). In fact, it was considered SO gay by some of my high school friends that they simply referred to it as "Rehomo."
I haven't been to Rehomo in the summer since high school. Well, there's one exception. When I was eighteen. It involved me, a couple of high school friends, the Rehoboth Beach Police, and a couple of pairs of handcuffs. I would elaborate, but I'm not one to "overshare" on a forum as public as the internet. (Yes. I know. Biggest. B-lie. ever.)
Needless to say, when Jeff and I were planning East Infection 2008, I insisted that we start in Rehomo. Being older, wiser, and no longer in a "phase," I knew that Rehomo wasn't the booming gay fantastia that I thought it was in my weird repressed adolescent fantasies...but I needed to go. I wanted to go. I had to experience it for myself.
* * *
I attempted to plan the perfect night in Rehomo. Jeff and I were going to go out to get crabs at the Rusty Rudder (Jeff had never eaten authentic Maryland crabs before). We were going to head to Funland where I was going to finally conquer my fear of the Haunted Mansion (Although I had been through the Haunted Mansion twice before, I had never seen the inside...because I kept my eyes shut the entire time). And then, we were going to get a couple of drinks at the Blue Moon.
However, things didn't quite turn out as originally planned. It all started when we arrived at Rusty Rudder and were told by the fourteen year-old hostess that the Rusty Rudder didn't serve crabs anymore. Except for Alaskan Snow Crab Legs at the Buffet. (And if you know Maryland Crabs, you know that Alaskan Snow Crab Legs are for pussies.)
So we left the Rusty Rudder feeling very dejected.
Eventually, thanks to the help of the nighttime desk clerk at the world's best themed bed and breakfast, we ended up at Lazy Susan's. Where we ate the best crabs I have ever eaten in my entire life. Watching Jeff work his way through a crab for the first time was also kind of amazing.
After the crab deliciousness, we returned to the world's best themed bed and breakfast and ventured out into the night...to see what the Rehomo "nightlife" was like...on a Monday night. Expectations were very low.
Thanks to my very in depth online research, I'd discovered that Aqua Grill and the Blue Moon were the two places we needed to check out.
We walked by Aqua Grill first, there were a total of maybe six people milling about the outdoor location...so we headed to the Blue Moon to see if they were any busier.
The Blue Moon had moved. To a bigger, "better" location. One block off Rehoboth's main drag. The monitors and windowless bar-front were long gone.
As we approached, my stomach dropped. And I began to sweat ever so slightly. Even though I've been to more than my fair share of gay bars, this one made me nervous. It wasn't the group of dudes standing outside on the smoking deck. It wasn't the sign out front that declared that jazz singer Pamala Stanley was performing every night of the week. I had become that thirteen year old boy again. The one that didn't want to be a "fruit."
I made Jeff walk past the Blue Moon and turn the corner into an outdoor shopping courtyard. He patiently waited as I calmed down. I took a couple of deep breaths, before announcing that I was ready. We turned around and walked back towards Blue Moon. We made our way through the group of dudes on the smoking deck and into the bar.
It should come as no surprise that the Blue Moon wasn't the gay fantasia I imagined as a teenager. But it really didn't matter. I had seen the inside of the Blue Moon.
A few drinks and two bars later, Jeff and I ventured over to Funland so that I could finally "take on" the Haunted Mansion.
Unfortunately, it was closed.
Yet somehow, it didn't really matter.
Come Right Away!
Yesterday, Jon called me up to tell me that he was excited/scared about our first night's sleep. It seems he had booked us somewhere wacky, but wouldn't tell me exactly what was up.
As we drove through Delaware, his excitement continued to grow--as did his nerves. Then, as he directed me into a driveway, I saw this sign:
I didn't understand why the Bewitched insignia was on the sign, but it's the first thing I noticed.
As we walked toward the office, Jon warned: "You can't laugh when you walk in!" I became terrified. When we entered, I saw this pile of crazy:
At first, I thought "What the hell is this place? And why is there Bewitched stuff all over theplaceohwaitaminute... How could this be?" It didn't seem possible... but I slowly realized that Jon had somehow found us a Bewitched-themed Bed & Breakfast in Rehoboth Beach. (This, by the way, is why Jon is the best ever.)
We checked in with a sweet woman named Inez who led us to the Dr. Bombay Suite...
...which is adorned with pictures (both autographed and not) of Bernard Fox:
Bernard Bejeweled!
Jon tried to get us into the Uncle Arthur room, but apparently "it is too narrow" for most people to enjoy. (Which sounds as though they might place you directly into Paul Lynde's casket. No thanks.)
As we toured the room, we were wowed by the sheer amount of insanity that surrounded us:
About ten seconds after arriving, Jon decided to pose in front of this Bombay sign:
...which (for some reason) he promptly removed from the wall. As he did this, the nail and bracket that were holding up this precious piece of painted wood both fell to the carpet. Jon instantly found the bracket, but the nail was AWOL. Terrified that Inez was going kick us out if she discovered that we desecrated her living shrine to Bernard Fox, we immediately created a search party. Between Jon and I, we explored every square inch of the room (all ten of them):
Alas, we couldn't find the nail... and we were screwed. We even tried paging Dr. Bombay himself using Samatha Stephens' trademark cry: "Dr. Bombay, Dr. Bombay! Come right away!" But alas, it did not seem to work. Out of options, we were all set to tell our hostess what had happened.
But just then, MamaRu called to tell us that I left my cell phone at their house in Dover (Because I'm retarded.) Jon got a brilliant idea! Since Mama & Papa Ru will be having breakfast with us in the morning, why not have them bring a nail! The plan is to replace it before Inez ever comes in. It's fool-proof. Right?
The once-mighty sign
I guess only time will tell if we'll be able to repair this loving tribute to Bernard Fox--the last surviving adult member of the cast of Bewitched. So if he perishes overnight, and Jon and I both vanish, please know that it is because his name was removed from the wall at this Bed & Breakfast in Rehoboth Beach.
Or maybe Inez just had us banished to the Uncle Arthur suite.
As we drove through Delaware, his excitement continued to grow--as did his nerves. Then, as he directed me into a driveway, I saw this sign:
I didn't understand why the Bewitched insignia was on the sign, but it's the first thing I noticed.
As we walked toward the office, Jon warned: "You can't laugh when you walk in!" I became terrified. When we entered, I saw this pile of crazy:
At first, I thought "What the hell is this place? And why is there Bewitched stuff all over theplaceohwaitaminute... How could this be?" It didn't seem possible... but I slowly realized that Jon had somehow found us a Bewitched-themed Bed & Breakfast in Rehoboth Beach. (This, by the way, is why Jon is the best ever.)
We checked in with a sweet woman named Inez who led us to the Dr. Bombay Suite...
...which is adorned with pictures (both autographed and not) of Bernard Fox:
Bernard Bejeweled!Jon tried to get us into the Uncle Arthur room, but apparently "it is too narrow" for most people to enjoy. (Which sounds as though they might place you directly into Paul Lynde's casket. No thanks.)
As we toured the room, we were wowed by the sheer amount of insanity that surrounded us:
About ten seconds after arriving, Jon decided to pose in front of this Bombay sign:
...which (for some reason) he promptly removed from the wall. As he did this, the nail and bracket that were holding up this precious piece of painted wood both fell to the carpet. Jon instantly found the bracket, but the nail was AWOL. Terrified that Inez was going kick us out if she discovered that we desecrated her living shrine to Bernard Fox, we immediately created a search party. Between Jon and I, we explored every square inch of the room (all ten of them):
Alas, we couldn't find the nail... and we were screwed. We even tried paging Dr. Bombay himself using Samatha Stephens' trademark cry: "Dr. Bombay, Dr. Bombay! Come right away!" But alas, it did not seem to work. Out of options, we were all set to tell our hostess what had happened.But just then, MamaRu called to tell us that I left my cell phone at their house in Dover (Because I'm retarded.) Jon got a brilliant idea! Since Mama & Papa Ru will be having breakfast with us in the morning, why not have them bring a nail! The plan is to replace it before Inez ever comes in. It's fool-proof. Right?
The once-mighty signOr maybe Inez just had us banished to the Uncle Arthur suite.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Day One : Dover, DE to Rehoboth Beach, DE
Mile 0.0 - Tragedy strikes East Infection before it even begins, when Jeff realizes that his cell phone is locked in the House of Mama and Papa Ru.
Mile 0.5 - Bye Crossgates! Bye Jeff's Cell Phone! Bye worst sign ever!
Mile 1.3 - Speaking of terrible signs, Jeff and Jon pass by a sign that read "Just Cabinets &"
Just Cabinets AND WHAT EXACTLY???
Mile 1.9 - Jon sees Johnny Janosik and gets all excited.
He starts doing a bit -- "Johnny Janosik in Laurel. The LONGEST Store on the Shore with the SHORTEST prices." Jeff doesn't laugh. Jon wishes his sisters were here. They would understand his very sophisticated level of humor. For realz.
Mile 2.2 - Jon misses a sign for "T & A Paintball." Of course he does.
Mile 9.7 - Jeff and Jon on the way to Frederica. FREDERICA PEOPLE!
Mile 9.9 - Jeff and Jon are on the lookout for a very important sign. For some weird reason, Jon seems convinced that they are going to miss it.
Mile 11.1 - We're here! We are in the Geographic Center of Delaware!
Nothing's gonna stop us now!
Except for Jefferson's Airplane.
Or Jefferson's Starship.
Or Starship.
Or whoever the f*ck sings that song.
Mile 13.2 - Camp Lenape! Jon used to work there!
Mile 15.4 - We're on Johnny Cake Landing. Somehow this becomes hilarious to Jeff and Jon. The rest of the world scratches their head in shame and disgust.
Mile 16.0 - Jeff realizes that the Senior Center of Federica is the newest thing in Frederica. This doesn't bode well...
Mile 21.4 - Vicki Lawrence attacks Jon's iPod. It's the beginning of the end.
Mile 22.9 - Jeff discovers a little place called "Slaughter Beach."
He suddenly gets very scared. He is convinced that this road trip will be over before it even starts.
Mile 28.1 - Jeff is still traumatized by Slaughter Beach.
(East Infection Delaware Delaware Folklore Trivia of the Day -- There are at least two stories of where Slaughter Beach's name came from: The first is that it was named after William Slaughter, A local postmaster in the mid 1800s. The second story claims the name came from the horseshoe crabs that wash up on shore and die each year. They come near shore to shallow water to lay their eggs and the low tide strands them leaving them to die, thus the "slaughter.")
Mile 28.9 - Jeff informs Jon that he totally missed a sign that says "Slaughter Neck." Jon wonders if Jeff is going to need to be put "in a home."
Mile 30.7 - Jeff and Jon drive by a sign that reads "Stop In and Smell the Produce." They don't stop.
Mile 34.2 - AHHHHHH!!! We're in Broadkill Beach! Jeff declares that Delaware is very murder-y. Jon declares that he is gonna murder Jeff.
Mile 42.8 - Three words - Perms. And. Worms.
Mile 44.5 - We've entered Rehomo!
Mile 46.8 - We made it! We're at the best "themed" Bed and Breakfast ever. It's all very exciting!
Mile 0.5 - Bye Crossgates! Bye Jeff's Cell Phone! Bye worst sign ever!
Mile 1.3 - Speaking of terrible signs, Jeff and Jon pass by a sign that read "Just Cabinets &"
Just Cabinets AND WHAT EXACTLY???
Mile 1.9 - Jon sees Johnny Janosik and gets all excited.
He starts doing a bit -- "Johnny Janosik in Laurel. The LONGEST Store on the Shore with the SHORTEST prices." Jeff doesn't laugh. Jon wishes his sisters were here. They would understand his very sophisticated level of humor. For realz.
Mile 2.2 - Jon misses a sign for "T & A Paintball." Of course he does.
Mile 9.7 - Jeff and Jon on the way to Frederica. FREDERICA PEOPLE!
Mile 9.9 - Jeff and Jon are on the lookout for a very important sign. For some weird reason, Jon seems convinced that they are going to miss it.
Mile 11.1 - We're here! We are in the Geographic Center of Delaware!
Nothing's gonna stop us now!
Except for Jefferson's Airplane.
Or Jefferson's Starship.
Or Starship.
Or whoever the f*ck sings that song.
Mile 13.2 - Camp Lenape! Jon used to work there!
Mile 15.4 - We're on Johnny Cake Landing. Somehow this becomes hilarious to Jeff and Jon. The rest of the world scratches their head in shame and disgust.
Mile 16.0 - Jeff realizes that the Senior Center of Federica is the newest thing in Frederica. This doesn't bode well...
Mile 21.4 - Vicki Lawrence attacks Jon's iPod. It's the beginning of the end.
Mile 22.9 - Jeff discovers a little place called "Slaughter Beach."
He suddenly gets very scared. He is convinced that this road trip will be over before it even starts.
Mile 28.1 - Jeff is still traumatized by Slaughter Beach.
(East Infection Delaware Delaware Folklore Trivia of the Day -- There are at least two stories of where Slaughter Beach's name came from: The first is that it was named after William Slaughter, A local postmaster in the mid 1800s. The second story claims the name came from the horseshoe crabs that wash up on shore and die each year. They come near shore to shallow water to lay their eggs and the low tide strands them leaving them to die, thus the "slaughter.")
Mile 28.9 - Jeff informs Jon that he totally missed a sign that says "Slaughter Neck." Jon wonders if Jeff is going to need to be put "in a home."
Mile 30.7 - Jeff and Jon drive by a sign that reads "Stop In and Smell the Produce." They don't stop.
Mile 34.2 - AHHHHHH!!! We're in Broadkill Beach! Jeff declares that Delaware is very murder-y. Jon declares that he is gonna murder Jeff.
Mile 42.8 - Three words - Perms. And. Worms.
Mile 44.5 - We've entered Rehomo!
Mile 46.8 - We made it! We're at the best "themed" Bed and Breakfast ever. It's all very exciting!
I'm just being Miley
Hey y'all, I'm Miley Cyrus Spiral Notebook.
It's tough being the number one pop star in the world. It's SO exhausting. But now, I'm taking a break, getting reincarnated as a spiral notebook, and hanging out with my twogayest biggest fans.
Every time, Jeff and Jon get in the car. I'm gonna be there. Logging "stuff." Taking photos of "things." Keeping track of all of the "on the road" hilarity.
In other words, I'm going to be the most annoying thing on this blog.
And there's isn't a thing you can do about it.
It's tough being the number one pop star in the world. It's SO exhausting. But now, I'm taking a break, getting reincarnated as a spiral notebook, and hanging out with my two
Every time, Jeff and Jon get in the car. I'm gonna be there. Logging "stuff." Taking photos of "things." Keeping track of all of the "on the road" hilarity.
In other words, I'm going to be the most annoying thing on this blog.
And there's isn't a thing you can do about it.
I Never Promised You A Rose Garden...
...but I did promise you a picture of Jeff In A Can.
So here it is...
...I'm sure he is VERY nice.
So here it is...
...I'm sure he is VERY nice.
East Infection TV Alert!
In case you're wondering what to do while anxiously awaiting the next East Infection post, feel free to check out Tonight's Episode of ABC's Hit Series "High School Musical: Get In The Picture!"
Tonight's episode features Zac Efron, TV Theme Songs... and a dude in a banana suit. What more do you need?
Oh... and I might have been a Story Producer on this episode.
Set your Tivos, fuckers!
Tonight's episode features Zac Efron, TV Theme Songs... and a dude in a banana suit. What more do you need?
Oh... and I might have been a Story Producer on this episode.
Set your Tivos, fuckers!
Public Service Announcement for East Infection 2008 readers
Just an FYI, EastInfection.Blogspot.com is NOT related to EastInfection2008.blogspot.com
Whatever you do, don't go there.
Seriously.
It's definitely not safe for anyone.
Even Miles the Monster.
Whatever you do, don't go there.
Seriously.
It's definitely not safe for anyone.
Even Miles the Monster.
Can Opener
After a painfully squished red eye flight from LAX to BWI, my East Infection 2008 journey began with quality time with my parents.
We started off with breakfast in Baltimore with Uncle Carl and Lucky the Wonder Dog.
Followed by a scenic trip through the backroads of Delaware.
We enjoyed sausage and pork sandwiches at world famous, Amish run - Spence's Bazaar.
Last night, we got crabs at the Boondocks.
While at Boondocks, I finally lived out my childhood dream and got the chance to order a drink they call "Swamp Water." Swamp Water consists of a lot of booze, green food coloring, and a real live cattail (the plant, not the animal).
It tasted just like the color green!
But the real event of my time in Dover involved my father and his can.
Thanks to the wonderful world of digital photography and giant can of Folger's Coffee, my father has recently stumbled onto something extraordinary - Still Life Photographs from the perspective of the bottom of a coffee can.
Over the course of the past few months, my father has sent me the following series of photos that must be shared with the world...
Petunias In A Can.
The Ruane House In a Can.
Sasha the Cat In A Can.
MamaRu in a Can.
Squirrel On A Fallen Tree In A Can.
Water Bike In A Can.
Mustache In A Can.
When my little sister went home a few months ago, she got to go in a can...
...and I might have gotten more than a little jealous.
So clearly I needed to get my photo in a can. But it couldn't just be me in a can.
I wanted something special.
Something beyond extraordinary.
And so I give you...
Jon and Miles the Monster In A Can.
As an added bonus, here's...
PapaRu and Miles the Monster In A Can.
Jeff in a Can coming soon to a blog near you.
We started off with breakfast in Baltimore with Uncle Carl and Lucky the Wonder Dog.
Followed by a scenic trip through the backroads of Delaware.
We enjoyed sausage and pork sandwiches at world famous, Amish run - Spence's Bazaar.
Last night, we got crabs at the Boondocks.
While at Boondocks, I finally lived out my childhood dream and got the chance to order a drink they call "Swamp Water." Swamp Water consists of a lot of booze, green food coloring, and a real live cattail (the plant, not the animal).
It tasted just like the color green!
* * *
But the real event of my time in Dover involved my father and his can.
Thanks to the wonderful world of digital photography and giant can of Folger's Coffee, my father has recently stumbled onto something extraordinary - Still Life Photographs from the perspective of the bottom of a coffee can.
Over the course of the past few months, my father has sent me the following series of photos that must be shared with the world...
Petunias In A Can.
The Ruane House In a Can.
Sasha the Cat In A Can.
MamaRu in a Can.
Squirrel On A Fallen Tree In A Can.
Water Bike In A Can.
Mustache In A Can.
When my little sister went home a few months ago, she got to go in a can...
...and I might have gotten more than a little jealous.
So clearly I needed to get my photo in a can. But it couldn't just be me in a can.
I wanted something special.
Something beyond extraordinary.
And so I give you...
Jon and Miles the Monster In A Can.
As an added bonus, here's...
PapaRu and Miles the Monster In A Can.
Jeff in a Can coming soon to a blog near you.
The Pre-Infection
For me, this year's Road Trip began with a nightmare car ride to the Burbank Airport, courtesy of a senile old driver. While I dozed in the back seat, he decided to take me on the scenic route which, as it turns out, was in the opposite direction of the actual airport. When I awakened, I struggled to get my bearings and, upon realizing we were actually driving away from my destination, I asked "Are we going the right way?" He turned and calmly replied: "No."
Oh. Well, this seems like a problem.
He told me they closed the road he usually takes. At this point, we were so far away from the airport, I wasn't even sure if we'd make my flight. I asked him why he wasn't using his navigational system, and he grumbled about technology and kids and music videos before telling me to get off his lawn.
As he slowly fumbled with the navigational system, he asked "Do you have time for this?" I said: "No, because I HAVE A PLANE TO CATCH!" Hi, that's why we're going to the airport, Grandpa. He picked up the pace a little bit and told me that we were very close to the airport (We weren't.) Eventually, he managed to drop me off with mere minutes to spare.
Afterwards, I had a layover at the Dallas Airport, where the first thing I saw upon getting off the plane was this:
A Proactiv skin care vending machine. Because apparently everything really is bigger in Texas... even the pimples!
I spent a few days in Philly (Home of the $3.00 Ho's!)...
. . .hanging out with family and friends. I am a creature of habit when I return home, usually going to my favorite restaurants, eating my favorite things, and seeing my favorite people. My friend Jessica and I visited the same restaurant we hit almost every time I'm home: Nifty Fifty's. It is, at its core, a crappy diner with pretty delicious milkshakes and a 1950's decor. (And by "1950's Decor," I mean waiters who wear paper hats.)
I usually get a big, greasy bacon cheeseburger, but this time, there was something new on the menu. And, after all, these Road Trips are all about New Experiences:
New Experiences such as the Royal Felet Mignon sandwich which, according to the menu "is so outstanding, we registered it with the U.S. Patent Office!"
"I've never eaten a patented sandwich before! How could I go wrong?" I foolishly thought.
Jessica rolled her eyes as I ordered this fancy meat. (Something she is quite used to doing after more than fifteen years of my shenanigans)
Well, as it turns out, you can go wrong by ordering a patented sandwich:
...especially when Onion Rings are involved. And some sort of cheese-substance.
Anyway, after lunch, Jessica and I returned to her house, where I let her child play with a toilet we found on the street:
After Jessica took her son away from the pink Philly Curb Toilet and went inside to sanitize him, I maybe utilized it when the Patented Sandwich began to melt me from the inside out. Sadly, no photos exist of this experience. Except possibly at the police station.
Anyway, I had a great time hanging out in Philly for a few days with my friends...
Clockwise from Me O'clock: Quinn, Anne, Kev, Zanne, Xavier and Stacey! Wee!
Bock & Kake™
BigSean & Becky!
Toni Ryan: Queen of The World
CLINTON--obviously thrilled to see me.
...while staying with my loving family...
When Ralphs Attack
The Wacky Family!
...but now, it's time to start the Road Trip Portion of East Infection 2008! I'm on my way to pick up Jon in Dover, Delaware (The City That Means Well!™)
Oh, by the way Jon--I'm running late. But at least I'm driving in style in this 2008 Cherry Red Chevy Impala...
...which we'll be using to infect the Delaware, NJ portion of our road trip!
Oh. Well, this seems like a problem.
He told me they closed the road he usually takes. At this point, we were so far away from the airport, I wasn't even sure if we'd make my flight. I asked him why he wasn't using his navigational system, and he grumbled about technology and kids and music videos before telling me to get off his lawn.
As he slowly fumbled with the navigational system, he asked "Do you have time for this?" I said: "No, because I HAVE A PLANE TO CATCH!" Hi, that's why we're going to the airport, Grandpa. He picked up the pace a little bit and told me that we were very close to the airport (We weren't.) Eventually, he managed to drop me off with mere minutes to spare.
Afterwards, I had a layover at the Dallas Airport, where the first thing I saw upon getting off the plane was this:
A Proactiv skin care vending machine. Because apparently everything really is bigger in Texas... even the pimples!I spent a few days in Philly (Home of the $3.00 Ho's!)...
. . .hanging out with family and friends. I am a creature of habit when I return home, usually going to my favorite restaurants, eating my favorite things, and seeing my favorite people. My friend Jessica and I visited the same restaurant we hit almost every time I'm home: Nifty Fifty's. It is, at its core, a crappy diner with pretty delicious milkshakes and a 1950's decor. (And by "1950's Decor," I mean waiters who wear paper hats.)I usually get a big, greasy bacon cheeseburger, but this time, there was something new on the menu. And, after all, these Road Trips are all about New Experiences:
New Experiences such as the Royal Felet Mignon sandwich which, according to the menu "is so outstanding, we registered it with the U.S. Patent Office!""I've never eaten a patented sandwich before! How could I go wrong?" I foolishly thought.
Jessica rolled her eyes as I ordered this fancy meat. (Something she is quite used to doing after more than fifteen years of my shenanigans)
Well, as it turns out, you can go wrong by ordering a patented sandwich:
...especially when Onion Rings are involved. And some sort of cheese-substance.
Anyway, after lunch, Jessica and I returned to her house, where I let her child play with a toilet we found on the street:
After Jessica took her son away from the pink Philly Curb Toilet and went inside to sanitize him, I maybe utilized it when the Patented Sandwich began to melt me from the inside out. Sadly, no photos exist of this experience. Except possibly at the police station.Anyway, I had a great time hanging out in Philly for a few days with my friends...
Clockwise from Me O'clock: Quinn, Anne, Kev, Zanne, Xavier and Stacey! Wee!Bock & Kake™
BigSean & Becky!
Toni Ryan: Queen of The World
CLINTON--obviously thrilled to see me....while staying with my loving family...
When Ralphs Attack
The Wacky Family!Oh, by the way Jon--I'm running late. But at least I'm driving in style in this 2008 Cherry Red Chevy Impala...
...which we'll be using to infect the Delaware, NJ portion of our road trip!
Sunday, August 24, 2008
This Ain't No Greatest American Dog!
FIRST, there was Aunt Susan and Kai in "Brushy Brushy."
THEN, there was Mama Burke and Spike in "These Boots Aren't Made for Walkin'"
NOW, I give you...Uncle Carl and Lucky in "God Bless You, Lucky!"
THEN, there was Mama Burke and Spike in "These Boots Aren't Made for Walkin'"
NOW, I give you...Uncle Carl and Lucky in "God Bless You, Lucky!"
How we ended up with that "not so fresh" feeling
A couple of weeks ago, I called up Jeff in a panic. We had finally set a date for our east coast road trip and booked the plane tickets home, but we'd totally forgotten to do the most important part...come up with a title for this blog.
I was in such a fevered state of panic that I couldn't come up with a single good idea.
How could there be a road trip without a snappy blog name? What were we going to do? Had we lost our magic touch? Would we even remember how to blog?
Jeff eventually managed to calm me down. And so, we began the whole blog title brainstorming process.
Many bad blog titles died in the process, including:
"Carjoy 2008 : Road Trip Harder"
"You're a Road Trip Blog!"
"Not Another Road Trip Blog"
"This Ain't No Road Trip!"
"America's Next Top Road Trip"
"Project EastGay"
"Jeff and Jon Don't Go to White Castle"
"Someone Pooped in our road trip blog"
"America's Got Road Trip"
"I Married a Road Trip Blog"
"Eaststruck"
"The Bitches of Eastwick"
In the end, we came up with a few decent ideas. And by decent, I mean terrible. And by terrible, I mean amazing.
The first frontrunner was "East Side Story."
Then came "Greatest American Road Trip : Get in the Car!"
But in the end, we went with "East Infection."
Because, after all, who doesn't love a good inflammation?
I was in such a fevered state of panic that I couldn't come up with a single good idea.
How could there be a road trip without a snappy blog name? What were we going to do? Had we lost our magic touch? Would we even remember how to blog?
Jeff eventually managed to calm me down. And so, we began the whole blog title brainstorming process.
Many bad blog titles died in the process, including:
"Carjoy 2008 : Road Trip Harder"
"You're a Road Trip Blog!"
"Not Another Road Trip Blog"
"This Ain't No Road Trip!"
"America's Next Top Road Trip"
"Project EastGay"
"Jeff and Jon Don't Go to White Castle"
"Someone Pooped in our road trip blog"
"America's Got Road Trip"
"I Married a Road Trip Blog"
"Eaststruck"
"The Bitches of Eastwick"
In the end, we came up with a few decent ideas. And by decent, I mean terrible. And by terrible, I mean amazing.
The first frontrunner was "East Side Story."
Then came "Greatest American Road Trip : Get in the Car!"
But in the end, we went with "East Infection."
Because, after all, who doesn't love a good inflammation?
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