Wilder by Far

A look at life with the Wilder family. Updated most weekends and some vacation days. You can contact me at movingnorth@gmail.com..

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Thursday, April 19, 2007

"How do you like yer possum, Lowell, fallin' off the bones tender or with a little fight left in it? " - Granny, The Beverly Hillbillies

Bugtussle. I learned of Bugtussle watching "The Beverly Hillbillies" as a young lad - and the image always made me laugh - bugs tussling.

We got up very late in Quanah the next morning. The maid was scratching at the door, saying, “I’ll get you my pretties, and your little dog, too!“ and that creeped The Mrs. out. I think that she was worried it was Don Imus.

Anyhow, we (and when I say we, I mean The Mrs.) got The Boy and Pugsley ready, and packed the Wildermobile with all the things that we had brought. We missed the free continental breakfast, which sent Pugsley into a deep, dark depression. He then started playing with his toes and was happy. I tried that the other night for about four hours, and still don’t see how you can have all that much fun just sitting and playing with your toes. Maybe I need a manual to figure it out. But, I digress.

We got on the road and headed home. The Mrs. indicated that she wanted to stop and use the restroom. There was no way that I was turning around and driving four hours to that luxurious restroom back in Conley County, so we stopped at a McDonalds© at a McTown™ someplace along our route. The Mrs. escorted The Boy in while Pugsley and I waited in the car. Pugsley is self-contained in that regard, much like an astronaut. Fortunately, he doesn’t (currently) have a jilting astronaut lover, so I don’t worry about him taking the car on an all-nighter to Florida.

The Mrs. stomped out of the McDonalds®, with a murderous rage in her eye and The Boy in tow.

“Everything okay?”

“No. The woman’s room was broken, and The Boy wouldn’t go in the men’s room by himself.” Well, at least I got my coffee. Mmmm. Coffee.

We finally hit Ft. Worth. The traffic was, again, slower than Paris Hilton on a Calculus Final (thankfully that girl’s slow at something). Both times we went through Ft. Worth, the traffic was horrible. Couldn’t get any worse, right?

See, traffic. I don't know which direction had it worse, but that's a one hand clapping kind of Zen question. I think the other way had it worse, because we had a shorter drive to greasy food.

Wrong. Outside of Waco the traffic went to about 5mph (that’s an average of 7.333 feet per second, for those that think better in feet per second). Since during some portions of the trip we’d been traveling in excess of 132 feet per second, this was like slogging through Anna Nichole Smith’s diary – you hate it, it’s slow and uncomfortable, makes no sense, but you have to get through it.

Politeness is the foundation of a free and civil society – it’s basic respect. When being impolite has no social consequences and dueling is outlawed (I think people were just upset that Burr beat Hamilton, and there could be no rematch), people start making laws to enforce politeness.

Case in point – 5,000 drivers are all suffering in the car, playing with our toes in an unsatisfying sort of way (except for Pugsley), waiting for the traffic to clear out. Suddenly, decides the problem isn’t that there’s a traffic issue up ahead – No! – the problem is that people aren’t driving on the shoulder! First one idiot, then another, then another, takes to the shoulder. Finally, a trucker driving a big truckload of Pez jumps his rig out onto the shoulder, effectively blocking the idiots from compounding the problem ahead.

Here’s to you, Mr. Pez Trucker!

We drive home. Five days. Three hotel rooms. Sixty bazillion meals at fast food restaurants. 2121.3 miles.

What did we learn? Texas has great public restrooms. Green chilies are good. Pinot Noir is also good.

Playing with your toes isn’t all that fun unless . . . ohhhh, that’s the secret! Playing with your toes is great!


Fr Joseph Huneycutt, over at Orthodixie, tagged Wilder by Far with:

1. If, and only if, you get tagged, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think.
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme.
3. Optional: Proudly display the ‘Thinking Blogger Award’ with a link to the post that you wrote.

My choices are . . .
The Mrs. – because we all know who the boss is.
Gamin’ Koldfoot – Koldie knows games. All of them.
Flat Tire Blues – Shawn, a choice between food and beer??
Taxi Vignettes – Joann has great stories – the people she meets . . .
Bikin’ Jill in Alaska – Jill does more exercise in a day than most people do in a year.

Oh, a big shout out to susane, over at Mushing Mom - she did the right thing and bought The Mrs. book. Not to late for you to do the same!


Blogger Fr Joseph Huneycutt said...

Okay, John ... Here's an idea. You and the family come to MedFest this weekend -- my guest. Good food, great fun, lots of toes to count.

6:44 PM  
Blogger Fr Joseph Huneycutt said...

Oh, but I expect the Mrs to show up with a copy of THE BOOK in tow, pen in hand. (I'll give the pen back after authoring the check ... promise!)

6:46 PM  
Blogger brotherbill said...

I am not so sure one deserves the thinking blogger Award if one attempts driving through Waco, TxMx on or around April 19th.

Unless one were, of course, a dumb truck driver with extreme control issues. But I am being redundant. All truck drivers are dumb with extreme control issues. Take me, for example. Just stay off my shoulder. "Hey! Hey! Who the hell do you think you are, buddy?"

6:58 AM  
Blogger John said...

Fr Joseph,
Good times.

Nah, that was weeks ago. It was March.

2:50 PM  

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