No matter where I go I am a Lawrence.

  I swear sometimes my life is like a Independent movie. The kind that seems so meaningless on the surface, and even more so after much contemplation. Then after a restless sleep, you realize it was just a character study in relationships. What a waste of time. Or was it?
   I watched the saddest damn movie the other day, it was called Wendy and Lucy. Michelle Williams was a drifter with a dog. I am still sad about that movie and nothing else. I want my two hours back, maybe by now it's more like five hours.

   Back to the story. We left Vermont and drove three hours to my birthplace of Lake Placid, NY. It seemed like a rundown shell of it's former Olympic self. My brother and his wife live there. Their son and his two kids were visiting.  I have never met two shyer kids.
    My brother has recently become ill with some undiagnosed condition. Worrisome. My sister-in law is very sweet  and they were generous enough to feed and entertain us. My childhood best friend was going to meet up with us, but atlas, her son had a out-of-town baseball championship game. I was really looking forward to that rendezvous. I guess I was disappointed about that. Maybe that's why I drank a bottle of wine.

   Anyway the next day we headed to my sister Pam's in Syracuse.
   After a terrific steak dinner, we ended up playing Trivial Pursuit, drank some wine but not too much, and had a fun time. If nothing else we sure can laugh. I think a diaper was in order that night too. My kids were intrigued by Pam, mostly because she is highly intellectual and secondly because she's a little nutty.

Pam and her granddaughter Maddy. She was shared a bed with Maggie and me.

   Sometime in the middle of the night, my sister Mary's knee had swollen. She may have twisted it and then let it idle for hours driving. The pain was excruciating, and as a registered nurse, she was concerned she had a blood clot in her leg. After an five hour emergency room visit, they figured it was arthritis in her hip. Meanwhile Mags, Pam and I took her granddaughter Maddy to her mom's house. When we all returned to Pam's her husband had gotten us kosher delicatessen goods for lunch. My sister Pam made a sandwich with raw deli bacon, it looked like sliced ham. Yuck, imagine biting into bread and fat. Anyway I sound so depressing I am going to stop now. Damn sad Independent movie about a down-on her luck girl and dog. I will be more up-beat tomorrow. And I won't be part of a character study, promise.

A visit to New York

    I hadn't been back east for almost three years and since Dad is nearing ninety I figured I better get back to see him before it's at a funeral. He seems to have the longevity genes, so notice I didn't say his funeral.
    The kids and G2 went to CT and then to RI to the one of my favorite places, Newport, but since I knew I was going to western NY, there was no way I could do it all. G2 dropped the kids off above Providence and I met them outside of Boston. The funny thing about that is my sister, the only one I didn't see, lives in Boston. She was cruising the south of France, so good for her.
My sister Mary picked me up in her Ford Escape, along with the kids and my sister Ellen. That's right, five of us in a mid-sized SUV. I was in the backseat with the kids, who incidentally had their laptops opened. After we ate at the Olive Garden, we spent about ten minutes getting out of the parking lot, going in a circle back past the restaurant at least twice. The laughter subsided after we were misguided by an evil GPS to take only dirt roads with no street lights, and after an ass-flattening-seven hours where at times I was very concerned for our safety, we arrived at Mary's son's Vermont home located in BumFucEgypt. I think I may have been more comfortable if I had ridden a camel, but it was way more fun in the car witnessing my sister laughing so hard, too hard, and in fact a diaper would have been in order.

My nephew and his wife were very generous and friendly. My only complaint was there was way to much water in the air, so thick in fact, I had a hard time fitting it up my nose. Not their fault.









Day two, perhaps three and four tomorrow. I am not used to all this writing and I am tired. c.

Breaking the ice

I am regretful for not posting here for awhile. I will try and catch you up on my summer adventures. I wish I could tell you about taking a break and reflecting on life, being tortured with turmoil with lack of focus, drinking scotch into the night while I work on a novel or a song, and a bunch of other bullshit but I have done none of that. I have been spectacularly tired. Maybe the lack of focus is true.  So tonight I will just say hi and that I am back.

 I wished I would have taken notes because my memory fails me so, even without the scotch. I bet I can think of the real interesting stuff...

It's okay to say you've missed me. So come on back I'll have some meat tomorrow. Carol

The birthday party: Kentucky-style

Wow, had a great time in NY, but before I blow my horn about that, I must back up to Cyn's birthday week. She had friends from her days at Eastern Kentucky (initially I spelled that Kuntucky, forgive my snicker) State. Here's some snaps from some of the many events.

The surprise dinner

First evening at the house, a cocktail hour followed by G2's smoked rosemary chicken, beer-butt-style chicken.

Bellying up to the bar.

I love the light here.

Eating out back.

Yum.

Maggie made a berry buckle for Cyn.

Gary recorded the moment.

Yay...

One of the special guest arrived, the unknown comic.

Aka, Bill.

Everyone was surprised.

Bishops Castle

Old man Bishop was working on the entrance when we got there. It includes a moat. The place has "danger" written all over it.

The guys took the walk to the top.

Took some group shots on the second floor. Like everyone else my eye goes directly to me, except your eye would go to you... not me. Anyway, I have no idea my I am pointing my toe except I may be retarded. We can argue the "point" later.

One of the many twisty stairways.

It's one impressive handmade castle, made by the crusty guy himself, Jim Bishop.

We chatted to him while he ate lunch. More or less he talked at us while he ate. He is very interresting to say the least. Bishop is very opinionated. He's against the government because they are giving the people the shaft going against the constitution mainly by interpretation and state imposed laws. He makes some good points, but I find his conspiracy theories plain unbelievable. Here's the wiki site ( for the castle, not his political views.)

He don't take kindly to drunk taypayers.

The Grand Prix

In our own juvenile way we were calling this restaurant the Grand Pricks, cause we could. A little hole-in the wall joint in Pueblo. I would recommend this place for anyone with an appreciation for good authentic Mexican fare. But don't come here if you like only squeaky clean and sterile places. The bathroom was stuck in the fifties and may not have been cleaned since.

The green chili was excellent and good friendly service. I have cravings for the green chili plate, cravings, I may have to drive down weekly.

The MeloDrama

 

At Iron Springs Chateau.
In Manitou Springs at the top of Ruxton, food twasn't bad either but I was full from Grand Prix.

The host had heard there was a birthday in the audience.

Cyn was a good joe.

The main actor was a hefty guy but he sure could dance around. He was probably the best entertainer as well.

The big party

Cyn laughed at her hillbilly wine glass, a bell jar on a candlestick-like base.

Sharon, being an artist gave Cyn a drawing about all the big times they have when they all get together.

John played for a sing-a-long. The rest of the night got fuzzy here. I did have a big time and went home and sang and played guitar with my buddy Bob. I thankfully gave up drinking but stayed up till 5:30. WTF, what was I thinking?

G2 had come home at a respectable hour and went to bed. He took care of Bob and I and made up the hangover curing avocado-onion-pepper cheese burger. I figure this was all training for the trip back east. Next time Cyn's friends come to town I need to start training like I am going to run a marathon for at least a month. Good times.

The blind-side and the great kidnap conspiracy

Cookie Monster

What's in a cookie? Well that's a confusing question, just ask my friends Steve and Debbie.

Steve was getting ready for a big day in his prestigious-level job, meeting with various mucky-mucks surrounding a project he was working on. It was a big day.

He decided to eat a few cookies he had found in his wife's car, because she is an equally good citizen and what's in Debbie's car must be a-okay. After dunking the cookies in his coffee, Steve went to shave and shower. As he looked at his face in the mirror it started to distort. He shrugged it off. After a while his perception led him to paranoia, and he felt like he might be having a panic attack. He called out to Debbie. She asked the right question, "What did you eat?"

"A cookie and a half from that baggie in your car."

"Steve, I have no idea where those cookies came from."

 It got worse. He was confused and was wondering if it was PCP or some other evil in the cookies. The meeting was in a half-hour. Calls were made to buy Steve a few hours. Calls were made to their daughter who had used the car earlier in the week. She had visited their son at a mountain resort. Did she know where they came from, what was in them?

Yes, it was determined a friend of their son had baked some pot cookies and it was some pretty good weed. They tossed a few to the daughter as she left, she was apathetic, didn't want them and tossed them under the seat and forgot about them.

Steve finally got it together enough to go into work and make it through the day. He said he finally felt "normal" around 4:00 pm.  Funny enough. Of course we are still laughing at the circumstances.
Editor's note: The names were changed to protect the innocent and the not-so innocent. Also the conversation was paraphrased because I could.

Kidnapping Carlos

This past weekend among other things, some of us in the neighborhood group to a road trip to Craig-a-palooza, a birthday party for a guy we all know as Craig. It's his annual birthday bash and no pictures can do this house justice. I did not bring my camera in the party and that's a shame cause I missed out on some classic photographs, ie,  a large ass, literally speaking, a Jenga game played with foot-long wood pieces and an absolutely beautiful house.
When we were leaving, Char insisted on taking one of the mariachi band cut-outs decorating the place.

 

This is a ugly cell phone photo of their kitchen. It was beautiful.

 There must of been over 200 people at this party.

s

"Little D" got us home safe in the Shaggin Wagon. For some reason we were compelled to sing Hot Child in the City to her.

 The Mexican dude is safe with us until Cyn's party Saturday. Then he will be returned to Craig and Stephanie, unharmed.

Because we are very cultured folks, we did have a wine tasting before hitting the road.

The sisters looked pretty refreshed for day two of Cyn's week-long plus birthday party.

Day one Friday night: the crowning of her highness on her 50th birthday

Come to think of it, the grocery store does play some cool music nowadays.

I am backing up a bit here by throwing these two photos in here. I got confused, sorry. It's one of the many hazards of aging. Order of historical facts.

 

 Iowa friends of Jones and Tamara stopped buy a few weeks ago. We had a raucous time.

  Visited with Bud's folks at their campground. We had a splendid time. Always thinking of Bud Noel.

There's gotta be a part two to this post as it is long and I am tired and confused. Taker easy...cal, you can call me cal. I meant to write csl but I typed cal twice so it must be.  Cal

The lack of money is the root of all evil

Isn't that the truth. Gotta feel lucky to have a job, I suppose. Can't remember the last raise I got. I think it was way before the 10 percent pay cut I and others took a few years ago. Corporate management and board members that hold our company were lining their pockets with six-seven figure bonuses. Just the way it goes. It would be refreshing if a corporate big-wig or such would speak up and say, "You know I have plenty of money, couple mansions, yachts let the workers split up my share...", then all the others would do the same so they won't appear greedy. I know won't happen. It seems the more money you get the more you want. And if you get enough money you set up philanthropies for third world countries. Sometimes people forget where they came from. Reminds me of this funny from List of the Day.

Did I mention I got a stellar review from my boss at the Academy. I hate to be bragadocious. But as you well know, it's about time things started to look up for moi. He said they are "thrilled to have me as their design person." Thrilled is good.