GM First Responder Memorial Truck

Below are pics of the GM 9/11 Tribute Truck "First Responder". I recommend that everyone look at the pics full scale (click on them) to really take in what this tribute is all about. For those that are really sensitive, grab a box of tissues, that's you Sergeant Bontly. Enjoy. Oh and the hood ornament, while hard to see, is a 2" piece of plateglass from Ground Zero. That's right, a piece of the Twin Towers from that fateful day.

Random Pics from the past several months

I continue to forget to take my camera with me when I go on adventures. Dumb dora. Anyway, I have snapped a few things with the droid. Here they are.

Ah, the Mad Greek Cafe in Baker, CA. 

Diners, Drive-ins and Dives did an episode.

A big fat gyro courtesy of the Mad Greek. Extra tzatziki!!

Blue man group ad on a Vegas bus. Still need to go see the show.

The Vegas Strip on a Friday night. 

The Flamingo.

Paris

New York

MGM Grand

I saw this photo in a partisans of WWII book. I want to grow the beard on the left with the handlebars. I also dig the sheepskin hat. This is a Cossack of Russia, unfortunately for them, they sided with the Germans against the communists and we turned them over after the war for working with the Nazis. The friend of my enemy is my enemy until just a few years later when of course the communists became our new enemy and Cossacks would have been allies. Anyone else confused. 

The Big Green Egg grill. Look it up. Amazing ribs and roasts come from this bad boy.

Tom Cassity explaining the inner workings of his big green egg. 

My cousin Becky mad this for Memorial Day. Cute idn't it.

Snail on the trail. At least I'm not the slowest thing. Mom walked me ragged.

Ah slush puppy. If you look hard, you can see Chad's sagging ass in khaki, he was called into action as umpire for this softball game. His calls were horrible. I think he's blind. He did let me pet his seeing eye dog though.

homemade ice cream, cake and fresh picked strawberries a la aunt Di. Yummy.

Little brother and i hit the Y a few times while i was home. I laughed at this flier. When we take equipment, it just disappears one day and something else is in its place the next. Of course, we usually have 2 of everything, so the loss doesn't hit home quite as hard.

the Lincoln Lounge. Went here for fried flaming cheese and they didn't have it due to remodeling. Darn it. Had gyros instead. 

Petey the Peacock, living young, wild and free. He roams my uncle's neighborhood and steals cat food. He has a little hitch in his gitty up but still moves out when you try to pluck a feather for your hat. 

Toby, Pops and Jones. All wearing the jackass Pat Cain shirt at pop's retirement party. Dad kept telling people the story of the pic. It's his id badge pic, they asked if he wanted to take it again since his eyes were closed, he said nope, no one will ever see it. Oh how wrong he was. 

jackass wearing a pic of a jackass

yep, still a jackass

496 tire squealing vette. I owned a vette once, a Chevette.

That stingray nose. so unmistakable.

Toby's frogmore. 

Needs more frog.

Ghirardelli in Monterey by the wharf. We watched the guy making waffles into waffle cones and bowls, oh the smell. Bottle it, make it into a man's cologne and the ladies would flock. 

Scott Nerdbinski and J Kat Jones. Pre ice cream goodness. The looks afterwards were more glazed and comaesque.

Sunburnt dan leg. that is not a white sock, that is where my leash was for the standup (sitdown) paddle at Monterey. I'm pealing now. Oh itchy joy.

9 Decades of Zita

My adopted grandmother turned 90 this month. It was a great reason to bring most of the cousins together. As we age and build new lives the lives of our youth become distant memories. Growing up, we spent holidays on the farm in Witt with Pat's family. After growing up and moving away after college, those times have become rare almost to the point of non-existence. So, the idea was kicked around of getting all the cousins together for a cousins night. We headed to Litchfield Illinois and checked into our assigned hotel before descending upon a small sports bar in the area. Dinner was good with lots of stories and memories being shared. Then the libations began to flow and the fun began. Before the night ended, we were skeeball masters and had 2 plastic samurai swords and an accoutrment of slap bracelets and vampire teeth to present to grandma the following day on her 90th.
the next day went well for grandma, she saw family and friends from accross the decades and spent the hours on tales and reviewing the old black and white photos. It's always neat to see oneself and the previous generations in their youth, old customs and attire. Makes me nostalgic for a time I never experienced, before the country seemingly lost its innocence. While I know it only really exists in my mind, I imagine how cool it would have been to hit a speakeasy, or cruise Eldorado in a 1969 musclecar, or attend a parade where everyone was dressed in poodle skirts and beehive hairdos, just because that was the fashion of the day. I wonder what kids will think of our pictures when my generation hits 90, will they wish for those days or will they even attnd birthdays for real at all or just virtually, safe in their own homes. Who knows? I guess will find out December 21st.

Low Country Midwest

My Dad and Mom took early retirement when it was offered by their company. To celebrate their life transition to total boredom at home, some folks Dad works with threw a good old fashioned shin dig. This was no ordinary Midwest affair, it was throwback to my SC days, a low country boil or Frogmore stew. For those that don't know, a low country boil is a one pot affair. Fill pot with water, white wine and bay seasoning and sausage, bring to a boil then let simmer for awhile, once it is good and spiced, bring her back up to temperature, throw in potatoes and boil, wait about 10 minutes then onion, wait 10 minutes then corn on the cob, wait 10 minutes and then toss in shrimp or crawfish or fish for 3 minutes and drain and dump on a covered table. Everyone then either descends on the mix throwing carcasses through a hole into a bucket or scoops up plates of the stuff and dips and flavors to their own liking. The other similar southern tradition I enjoy is an oyster feast. Same table, some tossing of shells. No veg in that one though.
It appears that Toby, Dad's work bud, even though he grew up in Kansas, was party to several boils as a kid. So he was the head chef for Mom and Dad's affair, gathering the needed mainstays not from the local areas as is often done in the south, especially along the coast, instead the making sfor this one came from Kroger. However only a true southern afficiando that grew up on this stuff all summer long could tell the difference. I was extrememly pleased with the way it turned out and ate more than my fair share while remembering good times at the Hinks dock on the lake or hot humid days kicking it is Charleston. I even went back for just a moment to a crawfish boil in a box that we had in Nan's backyard in New Orleans pre-Katrina. Only now I was enjoying this wonderful fare in Spitler Woods Park, THE park of my youth. So many Boy Scout and Family activities revolved around this place growing up, it feels like, well........home.

Amish Softball

We headed to Arthur Illinois to watch my God daughter's softball double header. Arthur is Amish, or primarily so. As we pulled into town, a buggy pulled at full gallop by its horse power ran a stop sign and kept on going. Wow!!
The double header was good, the first game both teams were racking up runs as I worked the scoreboard and Chad the stats book. The MoCo Rush lost but it was a shootout. The second game went down quickly due to a new pitcher on the Rush. She threw 8 of 9 strikeouts and the Rush crushed their opponents ending in the third inning with a skunk. Night and Day to their first showing.
At the intermission, we grabbed some smoked meat from across the way that was outstanding. A perfect Illinois night under the lights. Good Food. Good Friends. Good small town sports.

Incubation periods

It almost never fails, when I return to Illinois, I get sick. I think it is an inevitability. If you ever get the chance read 'Survival of the Sickest'. Darwin would dig me because I am that guy.
It of course has to do with microbes. Very much like the settlers coming to the New World, I am a carrier, but unfortunately I am also an incubator. I show up, in my weakened traveler state from abroad and the little buggies that everyone else, the hundreds that I visit on vacay, have already dealt with find a new home in me. There they grow and prosper, its warm and humid, they feast unabated until blam, I'm sick. then of course, I must continue to visit, sore runny nose and tired aching self until all around me are afflicted as well. I'm surprised others don't head for the hills when I show up. Mom, little brother and Chad and whoever else I made ill, I apologize, but remember 'what doesn't kill you, sure is annoying anyway'.

Red eye flights and Fresh Markets

After my extended stay at the Magic Kingdom, there was 5 days of furious activity at work and then it was time for a presummer vacay away. The boss gave me Memorial day through 11 June to see the family in Illinois. The last time I had been home, other than a very short trip, 5 days,  at Christmas last year, was in 2010 for Memorial Day. While that's not really forever to the adult mind, it is more than enough time for marriages, births, deaths, divorces and the assorted major life changes. That's a typically military rotation at most installations. So on the Friday before Memorial Day, I headed to Vegas and caught a plan to Bloomington, at 1 in the morning. Ugh. Red eyes are advantagous, usually cheaper, not generally fully booked and you don't lose a whole day flying, but you do lose a night, sort of. My flights were from Vegas to Chicago, then a few hour layover and down to Bloomington, where mom would pick me up and drive me to MZ. The total time was 1am Vegas to about noon at the Ps house. About 10 hours total. Normally 8 hours which would have been spent sleeping, but only about 3 hours is spent asleep and most of that is fitful at best. So while Saturdya technically counts as a day of vacation, it is really spent with eyes squinty and brain working to get you into bed. When mom picked me up, we decided to hit Fresh Market in Bloomington. We had one in Cola, so it was cool since they are pretty much the same all over. She bought dehydrated, flash fried okra. Yummy. Good stuff really. We also picked up some flavored cheese infused burgers for the grill.