March 2010 — March Comes in like a lion and goes out with a Frickin’ FIRE!

My wife stole my pink Hello Kitty pajamas

I’ll get them back, but for now I’m slumming in these miserable, silky, green-and-gold pajama pants she got for me.

My journal was due five days ago, the fair has been closed for three days, and I’m so busy my head hurts.

Scarlett is watching Dora the Explorer - Ironic if you know our show - and singing “the backpack song”… and very soon I need to go back out side and throw down some more paper and lathe for a stucco job. But let me tell you about the Month that has already receded into the past.

Last time I wrote (according to the journal I just looked up) we were drowning in a never-ending deluge of biblical proportions… Okay, perhaps I exaggerate, but not completely. Today however; the desert feels like a desert. It is hot, dry and windy. I’m very ready to go to the sweaty tropics that is Atlanta.

It has been a very busy month

There were precisely four days when I didn’t have things scheduled. Three kayaking trips, (I think) two festival night events, vodka party, dinners out, bridal showers, baby showers, and birthday parties (two). I guess I better just show you some photos and tell ya bout my month.

The first festival event was the seasonal fund-raiser for RESCU, an organization that helps uninsured rennies with medical emergencies. The festivities are all-the-right-kinds-of-fun, drinking, auctions, gambling… My date was Heather of course, but guess who also got a kiss that night? All of our friends were there, though “Adam Crack” seemed to get all the girls – fucker!

Byron is still my Kayaking pusher, and after several calm-and-beautiful trips on local lakes, he decided it was time for us to try, not-only a river, but a river with rapids.

So … I was excited, but nervous. We launched from beneath a bridge and were instantly swept-up in the current. I’ve owned this boat for 6 months or so, and it has never tipped, or even scared me. Would you like to guess how far I got before I became the first casualty of the trip? Probably less than thirty yards. I tried to maneuver between the bridge supports, misread the flow, and crashed sideways into the third support. As soon as the current came across my beam, the boat turned over, and I found myself in the water.

In the water

I’m smart enough to have a dry box, so my wallet, camera, and phone survived. The box , tethered to my boat stayed where it should, but my crocs, my boat apron (conveniently wrapped around my legs facilitating swimming) and my paddle all tried to escape down river. My water, granola bars and the cool messenger bag they were in also floated away… the bag was rescued by Byron, and eventually returned to me, the food and drink went to a watery grave.

I felt betrayed and annoyed… How could my boat have done this to me?

I’d love to tell you that the rest of the trip went smoothly – but it didn’t. I took a serious spill at the juncture of the river we were on and another river merging into it. There were rapids at that juncture ,they were deceptively small when we photographed them from the shore when the trip was done. On the river, however, they were serious rapids. Serious rapids which caught me, spun me round, and dumped me in the river. Panicked, I tried to figure out how to get back in the boat – only to discover that the water was only about waist-deep. I righted the boat, grabbed my floating-away stuff and struggled (as it turned-out unsuccessfully) to get back in the boat. The river had other ideas.

As I clambered to get back into my kayak, the rushing water poured into my craft, eventually overwhelming it, and my grip… I shot the second half of those rapids clinging to the outside of my boat trying to encourage it to go to the shore.

That evening after trying to drown myself in the river, I successfully drowned my sorrow in vodka! Heather arranged a vodka-tasting party with Frank and VK. We had eight people or so and probably ten or twelve vodkas. Yummy.

Our social life never slowed down

Friday was hangover-and-laundry day, followed by our half of a baby-swap with the Millers.

The following week saw a continuation of our social schedule… A cook out at Dave and June’s - where Scarlett tried to exhaust Uncle Riki by encouraging him to run in circles outside in the yard.

The following night was Funky Formal – The theme was “The Birth of Hip-Hop”. Heather looked hot, in a purple sexy wig, and also did Dakota’s hair for her. I went as a scrub-clad, blood-soaked, doctor carrying a twisted wire hanger. I was the doctor who was trying to prevent the birth of Hip-hop. We’re posing in photo ten with our good friend John Spurvey… notice the bloody glove on Heather’s back?

The parties came fast and furious

The following day brought another hangover and another party. It was time to celebrate my”sort-of-son’s” birthday. Malcolm Miller was one year old. Spice Traders Café was once again the venue for the party. Burgers and veggie burgers, cake, presents, good friends, what a cool way to spend a Thursday afternoon. Scarlett discovered, and laid immediate claim to the kayak, she begrudgingly allowed the nanny and the birthday boy. And if that wasn’t enough good-eats and good-company for the day we finished the night off at the sumptuous home of the ever-amazing Nancy McMillan. With her mother and sister they entertained my family and fed us quite well.

The following day was another crack at the now rain-swollen, even faster river. This time one of my kayaking partners went in the water in the first five minutes, but I managed to stay in the boat for the entire trip… It was a much more pleasant way to negotiate the rapids.

A great gimmick can kill you

The following week started with weekly Tortuga Twins’ business Monday, followed on Tuesday by a trip to the legendary Heart Attack Grill. Though this trip was Dave’s idea, and he was our guide, Heather was actually the first person to bring this place to my attention. The waitresses were dressed as nurses; they only served burgers and all-you-can-eat fries (cooked in pure lard). And either beer, non-diet coke, or water. If you’re over 350 pounds you eat free. The place has a great gimmick; though I wasn’t that impressed with the food or the nurses, if I had a passel of money I’d try to open a franchise near the racetrack in Charlotte.

The next day was a day-trip to the zoo with The Reeds, Scarlett fell in love with Rhyne, and it was a blast catching up with a dear dear friend of mine, and finally getting to know their daughters a little better. And we ended the day with shepherds pie at frank and VK's. We ended up double-booked on several occasions in the month of March

Our calendar is full!

There was a baby-shower for “London Broil” alum Duncan, and a birthday party for my friend’s daughter Azalea. This party, by-the-way, was where my scamp of a daughter literally chased a boy up a tree. I said to her “You need to learn how to play hard-to-get from your mommy. She just pointed at the boy and shouted “mine, Mine!” and then threw a rock at him.

And the events kept coming

We had a great dinner with my friend Julius the Yo-Yo guy, He like Nancy, fed us Salmon (which I don’t normally like) and like at Nancy’s, I loved it. We also hosted at our house a Twilight New Moon party. It started as a joke; partly on Dakota for having read the book, and partly on Riki because he’s so oblivious to modern culture. As it came to be time however, I got really excited. I chose to represent as “Team Jacob”, mostly to annoy Dakota. We decorated the house, Riki and H2 came by as well… And Dakota baked these cookies just to show she didn’t begrudge me being “Team Jacob”.

We also had a Meet and Greet

I had to stay more sober this time… we had almost too many people to talk to. There were only a few tables I got to make it back to more than once…. There were zillions of photos taken that night. Our friend Dave wanted to be part of the magic a little too much, but I haven’t had time to look those photos over yet… maybe I’ll post some next Journal? After the M&G I went to visit a friend at her friendly-neighborhood strip club… then home to bed.

Finally it was time for Arizona’s final weekend.

Saturday was swell; busy, sunny, bright. It was the first hint of the heat-to-come, but still a lot of fun. That night we received an invitation to the Seafood party. A very rich friend of one of our friends brings in thousands of dollars of lobsters, crab legs, and shrimp… and he has a massive party to show how much he appreciates being a part of the magic. His only rule – you can’t thank him! In former years, the party was far more open, but last year it got out of hand. So many people showed up, many without invitation, so it was decided that they needed to scale back this year.

We still got invited.

The food was wonderful (I can almost taste the lobster, the shrimp, and the crab that was almost as big as my arm) and the company was great. There was no foreshadowing of the horrors to come.

How were you awakened on the final day of the faire?

My schedule on Sunday’s is pretty relaxed, but this morning, the final day of the faire in Arizona I awoke to a unique call on my phone. “Wake up, the faire is on fire” . And so it was.

I stepped outside my door, (wearing pants, and my team Jacob shirt) and saw the huge plume of smoke marring the clear blue desert sky. Shortly there was an explosion. My neighbors opined that the boom, massive enough to shake my house, was probably a propane tank letting go. We discovered later that it was in fact merely a CO2 canister for the beer taps. If the 400 gallon propane tank had gone, we might have lost half of the fair. Cars were driving past at a good clip, residents of that part of the fair were evacuating. When I received a call that the trees closest to the Dragon slide tower were on fire (they weren’t) I decided I needed to go assess the situation myself. I arrived after most of the fire had already been extinguished. The firefighters put the fire out eventually, cleared the rubble, and eventually departed.

The faire still opened, though a half-hour late. But the Horror wasn’t done.

My friend Jose, Don Juan seriously injured himself during one of his shows. He’s such a trooper that even with a torn Achilles tendon he performed his final show (albeit from a stool on the stage). Dakota will fill in for Jose next weekend in Scarborough, but he will eventually be okay.

I’m tired now

We’re packing down the show, we’ve caught up on the paperwork, we’re getting some much-needed trailer repairs done, and I’m doing a little stucco work for some extra moolah. We’ll be in town for about a week more and we’re really looking forward to some time in Atlanta.

Next journal – I’ll post some photos from the meet and greet, tell you about the Pirate show shoot, the trip to Atlanta, and the resumption of movie nights. Oh, and all the wheelin’ and dealin’ going on for the Blue team.