Pedestrians Only $75

So it seems that the going rate for running down pedestrians in Idaho is about $75.  Only $75??  What a bargain!   Man, I am going out in my Mack truck to get me some footies right now!   What the hell am I talking about?  I can't run down a footie in a crosswalk and expect to get away with it can I?  Well can I? According to the Moscow Police Department I can, and as long as I didn't mean to (no intent) I will only receive a $75 fine and a slap on the wrist.  Sweet mercy, who'd o' thunk it! 

This new information opens so many doors.  I am so excited I think I might have peed a little.  The list of possibilities are endless: commies,  Clement Greenberg (He's dead? Sucky), abstract Expressionists (sorry, The New York School), Keith Olbermann and my personal favorite- hippies.  The list just goes on and on.  So next time you are out and about and some footie is slowing down traffic while in a crosswalk, give him a bump, as long as you are willing to pay the $75.  

Keep this important tidbit in mind as well: if the peddie is not in a crosswalk (keep in mind some crosswalks are unmarked), they have to pay.  Diabolical!

Here is an added bonus on punching hippies.  It made me laugh:

 http://www.themadpigeon.com/diary_of_the_mad_pigeon/2008/02/this-valentines.html

Disclaimer: Trippin' the Northwest and it's writers (me) do not endorse vehicular assault. 

Trippin' Oregon

The family and I went on a trip to Oregon this past Labor Day weekend.  After our first week at school it was a much needed, albeit rushed weekend getaway.  The Old Man came down from Coeur d' Alene and made the first leg of the trip with us.  I am sure he was just ecstatic to be crammed in a car full of kids again after all these years. 

 We made pretty good time to Portland and all seemed like it was going well until the hippies struck.  

Yes we were foiled in our plans by the hippies of ODOT ( Oregon Department Of Transportation).  If you have ever traveled the highways of Portland you may have an idea of what happened to us.  The trouble started on our way to Beaverton.  We got on highway 26 (unaware of the danger that lurked ahead) and settled in to what should have been a 10 min drive to our hotel.  We rounded  a bend in the highway and out of nowhere it split, sending us careening onto the wrong highway.   

All was not lost if we could find an exit and return to the point of the split.  Once again the hippies of highway construction anticipated our plan and promptly placed an exit in our path.  This exit wore the guise of one that would return us to our original route, but we soon discovered that we had been deceived.   We exited and climbed to the top of the ramp.  Turning to enter the on-ramp going the opposite direction we realized too late that this ramp paralleled the highway we needed but offered no entrance to said highway.  From our ill chosen ramp the correct route tempted us, but stayed just out of reach and quickly faded away into the night.

We searched for a way back but to no avail.  Then a ray of hope!  An entrance to the I-5 south! We were saved!  Excitement reverberated through our mobile prison.  We would prevail over the Communist meat hating hippies of the highway interchange!  But, once again we underestimated the depth of their diabolical scheme and relaxed into a state of ignorant bliss. This was a bad idea!   We were not quickly deposited onto the I-5 as expected but meandered on an interchange that seemed to go on forever.  After what seemed like an eternity we made it onto to the I-5 and exited at the Or-10 exit.  Now by this time the forces of hippiedom had us so mixed up and unsure of ourselves that when it was suggested that the 10 would take us to Beaverton the idea was immediately thrown out the window (later we would find that this highway would have taken us exactly where we needed to be).   We eventually made it back to the 26, got off at the right exit, and made it to our hotel. 

 

The next day went much better and I have to admit our little unplanned trip did serve as a practice run to the zoo.   We met Bryce and Heather Busenbark along with their daughters at the zoo and had a great time.  We also saw some pretty cool animals while we were there.  We did end up parking in the overflow lot as the zoo lots were very full.  If you are planning on going on a weekend or holiday it might be best to park there from the onset instead of fighting with the traffic in the zoo parking lots. 

After the zoo we went to Saturday Market with Bryce.  This is a must see event if you are in Portland on a Saturday.(hence the name Saturday Market)  Here is Bryce eating one of the best spring rolls in the world (only found at Saturday Market).  

There are also quite a few hippies to be found at Saturday Market although not the same hippies who built the Oregon highways (thank goodness).  

Our last stop in Portland was Powell Books.  This is Erin's favorite place to go in Portland.  Trying to describe Powell's is difficult.  There is nothing to compare it to.   It is like trying to compare any mountain in the U.S. to Mt. Everest.  There is just no comparison.  If you are looking for a book that you can't find anywhere else there is a good bet that they have it.  They also sell online at www.powellbooks.com.  

If you decide sometime in the future to make a trip to the Portland area, be cautious and always keep a look out for the ODOT hippies (don't think that driving a VW will save you either, it didn't help us). 

My a Fat Man

I received my first blog comment!!! It was not nearly as bad as I thought that it would be. After all my goal is to offend and amuse and it seems that I have offended someone with my awful fatness. I thought that it would be my comment on hippies (kicking a hippie while they are down is quite offensive but amusing at the same time). I still hope to attract the wrath of some truly evil hippie whose scathing remarks will haunt me forever.

So on to the comment. I of course reserve the right to review all comments before I post them (just in case they are not offensive enough) and this one amused me enough that I decided to give it it's very own blog entry. My new secret admirer is Rain Princess. Wait a minute, it was a hippie! This hippie however has regressed so far intellectually that his/her comments (yes plural) read as follows:

your freakin fat

gytghyft6 your a fat man

yourmknoijnlnj your a fat man

0gy2hcrf6g2h65f5g62fdg65h263fy5g623yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy your a fat person

Now I have not edited these comments in any way, this is exactly how they appear and in the order that they were posted. Now let's take the first comment, your freakin fat. Well of course it's my freakin' fat (see how I used that contraction). I consumed a lot of Zingers to get that fat. (for my foreign fans Zingers are Twinkies covered with raspberry jelly and coconut freakin' sweet!)



It should really read: You're freaking fat, as the word "your" denotes ownership (I do own my fat though, until I go in for liposuction and at that point some bio-med waste company will own my fat). Again this is what is commonly referred to as a contraction. On to the second comment. The contraction is once again mysteriously absent. Then something altogether new. I am not sure if this is a foreign language or an attempt to bypass my exceptionally tough filtering system-me. The attempts do not stop there however, they become increasingly complex. NOT! (you have to love Wayne and Garth, PARTY ON!) I think that on the last one they must have either recieved an electric shock (my exceptionally tough filtering system at work ) or had some type of seizure or fit (it is also offensive but unfortunately not amusing to kick a person that is having a seizure while they are down).

For those of you who did not comment, please don't feel left out, maybe I will give your comment it's (again that contraction) very own blog post.

A Little Hippie Art

I have come to the realization that I am turning into a Hippie. I have avoided becoming a full blown communist meat hating hippie so far. Just the other day I ate a nice medium rare slice of rib eye heaven, engaged in capitalism (I bought a Mac), and then I kicked some hippie while he was down. Lately however my thinking and art has been influenced by some environmental issues. While working for North Idaho College I had an awakening as to the laziness of the people in our area when it comes to recycling. At the time I was taking an independent study sculpture class from Michael Horswill (excellent professor), and I was playing around with the idea of creating a piece out of plastic (plastic drink bottles) that I found in the trash. As I collected those bottles I was amazed and a little sickened at the numbers that were going in the trash on campus on a daily basis, the numbers were in the THOUSANDS.

I collected the majority of these bottles from one floor in one building on campus during a 30 day period. My co-workers also collected some for me in other areas but I tried to stick to using the bottles from that one area. I did use some from other areas to replace ones that I ruined or that were full of some disgusting unnamed substance. While it did not end up being what I originally started out to do (my art rarely ever does), it conveyed my idea in a way that proved to be effective. The finished sculpture called "Recycled" was in the shape of a 7' soda bottle. What I wanted to show was that we don't pay attention (or we just don't care) to what we throw away, and where it is going (in our landfills).

Recycled shown with Artist Jon Harty

The piece was displayed in the Molstead Library, during the Popcorn Forum at NIC, and on Earth Day at NIC. The piece was also mentioned in the Week's Worth News letter published by North Idaho College and in an article in the student newspaper, The Sentinel (even though they did not give me credit, they did showed a photo of the piece).

I tried to put in a link to the original article but was foiled by windows, save me Mac!!! (Mac will be here soon). Unfortunately the plastic bottle came to an unfortunate end at the hands of ASNIC. They moved the bottle without asking and it fell apart (if they had asked I had a plan for moving it without damage). I really shouldn't complain to much as this gave "Recycled" it's fifteen minutes of fame (and it is in google images thanks to Erin). I did repair the piece and even though it was not quite that same afterwards, it was used on Earth Day.

Camping tips 101.1

Don't you hate it when you fill your cooler to go camping and about a day in you open it up and a good portion of your ice is melted and your food is all soggy? Totally bites I know. Well something I learned from dear old Mom can help solve that problem. Instead of using bags of ice, save your 1 or 2 liter bottles (I prefer the 1 liter) , fill them with water and stick them in the freezer. Not only does this save you the hassle of squeezing cups of water out of raw hamburger it saves you money. This is also a great way to plan ahead for unexpected trips, especially for you all with 72 hour kits. You can quickly throw them in with perishables and be on your way escaping impending disaster. I try to keep at least four bottles in the freezer so that I can just throw them in the cooler and go (whether camping or escaping Armageddon). For those who have regressed intellectually: DO NOT FILL THE BOTTLES UP ALL THE WAY!!! Remember water expands when it freezes. Do the math (hopefully you have not regressed so far that you can't do the math).

And the Trip Begins

I have been wanting to start a blog for a while so I have finally overcome my fear and my tendency to procrastinate and have gotten down to business. Hopefully I am not too boring or cheesy in my attempts to share my interests and life experiences. I may be too late. Have faith that my following posts will contain information that will delight, offend, amuse, depress (you have to love a good black depression, don't you?), educate, cause you to regress intellectually (make you dumber than you already are), and so much more. Also remember when entering this blog to follow the advice of the wise Michael Horswill and "...always wear safety pants."