Rumney: Labor Day 2006 September 1st 2006
Friday, September 1^st 2006. In the car, on the road. Our first vacation in three and a half years without The Offspring. She's spending four fun filled days with her grandparents. “Ask for anything you want”, said her mother as we're departing, “ice cream, strawberry milk, anything; they'll give it to you”. She smiled; she knew. She's ruler of this world for the next 4 days. These slow, elderly people are her slaves, her minions. They will do her bidding and bend to her will. Hopefully they can work the Tivo. Uneventful ride to the North Country (Rumney, New Hampshire). Light traffic, usual construction delays. We arrive around 5 and set up our tent and campsite. Good friends we have in Andy and Wilson. They left us a exceptional spot near the river far enough from their tents that our vigorous love making would not be a disturbance. On the ride up we spotted a Saturn Ion. Curious name. Not the Saturn, of course, a respectable enough planet and Roman god, but the model, The Ion; an atom with no friends. A lonely nucleus repellent to others of its kind desperately seeking electrons to make its life complete and fulfill it's destiny. The anthropomorphizing of subatomic particles [never in the cannon of trip reports have those words ever been scribed]. The conversation does a desultory dogleg to the greatest radio sitcom (not a sitcom on radio, but one about radio), WKRP in Cincinnati. The show was always spot on with it's depiction of the interrelations in an office environment, although the hues in those colorful characters were a bit brighter than real life. Like vibrant shades in a dark wood paneled 70's style basement; highlights the features of an otherwise drab environment. The episode brought to mind had Venus Flytrap explaining the atom to an intelligent and charismatic gang leader whose future was circling the bowl. You had the Pro Boys (protons), the Neutral Ones (neutrons) and the Elected Ones (electrons). Three gangs with shifting alliances that make up all of the physical world. A paradigm our gangster could understand. He got it and stayed in school. A Life Saved. Anyway, this is the type of crap the wife and I discuss when trapped in a car without The Bean for distraction. Big crew this trip. In addition to us, there's Aaron, Evelina, Andy, and Wilson at our site (Moose); Susan, Richard, Mei Sei and Richard's son Richardo at Possum; Sandy, Pauline and JP at a car site; Ann and Michelle in a caravan (!); and Darryl and Michell staying in Plymouth (Common Man Inn). They have a hot tub, but we have a campfire and all that that entails. Mike L was also in Plymouth, but at a different facility a few blocks from D & M. Dinner this night, and every other (except Sunday), was at Plain Jane's Diner, a few miles from the cliffs. Good hearty American food. Lots of fat, lots of calories, lots of goodness. The place is a faux railroad diner club car in the 1950 style (although opened in 1990) sans the boomerang Formica countertop. Steak, country fried steak, ribs, taters and everything with gravy are the rib stickin' staples of this central New Hampshire icon. Sadly, Jane and her husband sold the place a few years ago, but the new management has keep up the friendly atmosphere and moderately priced, quality cuisine. Campfire, circle time and bawdy talk capped the evening. Nothing beats beer, a fire and friends for a pleasant evening distilled down to its essence. There's a primal feeling of comfort provided by a fire in the forest. In the days when the World Was Lit Only By Fire and evil and mysterious creatures were denizens of the dark forest, the warmth and light of Prometheus's gift must have truly been evidence of the beneficence of A Deity. The occasional virgin sacrifice must have seemed a small price to pay; unless, of course, you're the virgin. And beer; yes, further evidence The Great Ones wish us to be happy. Oh my yes, serve up another virgin and bring on The Suds.
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Rumney: Labor Day 2006

September 1st 2006

Friday, September 1^st 2006. In the car, on the road. Our first vacation in three and a half years without The Offspring. She's spending four fun filled days with her grandparents. “Ask for anything you want”, said her mother as we're departing, “ice cream, strawberry milk, anything; they'll give it to you”. She smiled; she knew. She's ruler of this world for the next 4 days. These slow, elderly people are her slaves, her minions. They will do her bidding and bend to her will. Hopefully they can work the Tivo.

Uneventful ride to the North Country (Rumney, New Hampshire). Light traffic, usual construction delays. We arrive around 5 and set up our tent and campsite. Good friends we have in Andy and Wilson. They left us a exceptional spot near the river far enough from their tents that our vigorous love making would not be a disturbance.

On the ride up we spotted a Saturn Ion. Curious name. Not the Saturn, of course, a respectable enough planet and Roman god, but the model, The Ion; an atom with no friends. A lonely nucleus repellent to others of its kind desperately seeking electrons to make its life complete and fulfill it's destiny. The anthropomorphizing of subatomic particles [never in the cannon of trip reports have those words ever been scribed]. The conversation does a desultory dogleg to the greatest radio sitcom (not a sitcom on radio, but one about radio), WKRP in Cincinnati. The show was always spot on with it's depiction of the interrelations in an office environment, although the hues in those colorful characters were a bit brighter than real life. Like vibrant shades in a dark wood paneled 70's style basement; highlights the features of an otherwise drab environment. The episode brought to mind had Venus Flytrap explaining the atom to an intelligent and charismatic gang leader whose future was circling the bowl. You had the Pro Boys (protons), the Neutral Ones (neutrons) and the Elected Ones (electrons). Three gangs with shifting alliances that make up all of the physical world. A paradigm our gangster could understand. He got it and stayed in school. A Life Saved. Anyway, this is the type of crap the wife and I discuss when trapped in a car without The Bean for distraction.

Big crew this trip. In addition to us, there's Aaron, Evelina, Andy, and Wilson at our site (Moose); Susan, Richard, Mei Sei and Richard's son Richardo at Possum; Sandy, Pauline and JP at a car site; Ann and Michelle in a caravan (!); and Darryl and Michell staying in Plymouth (Common Man Inn). They have a hot tub, but we have a campfire and all that that entails. Mike L was also in Plymouth, but at a different facility a few blocks from D & M.

Dinner this night, and every other (except Sunday), was at Plain Jane's Diner, a few miles from the cliffs. Good hearty American food. Lots of fat, lots of calories, lots of goodness. The place is a faux railroad diner club car in the 1950 style (although opened in 1990) sans the boomerang Formica countertop. Steak, country fried steak, ribs, taters and everything with gravy are the rib stickin' staples of this central New Hampshire icon. Sadly, Jane and her husband sold the place a few years ago, but the new management has keep up the friendly atmosphere and moderately priced, quality cuisine.

Campfire, circle time and bawdy talk capped the evening. Nothing beats beer, a fire and friends for a pleasant evening distilled down to its essence. There's a primal feeling of comfort provided by a fire in the forest. In the days when the World Was Lit Only By Fire and evil and mysterious creatures were denizens of the dark forest, the warmth and light of Prometheus's gift must have truly been evidence of the beneficence of A Deity. The occasional virgin sacrifice must have seemed a small price to pay; unless, of course, you're the virgin. And beer; yes, further evidence The Great Ones wish us to be happy. Oh my yes, serve up another virgin and bring on The Suds.

Next >>