Week 34: Visit a Country Not Bordering the U.S.

Well it finally happened.  34 weeks in and the doomsday challenge has arrived.

Let us take a step back before we get too far down this rabbit hole.  This week we had Patrick, former minor league super fan, doing the drawing (a full 6 days late at that).

Not Seen:  The devil he was taking directions from

The result, the one I've been dreading.

It's actually written in blood

"So that sounds like an enjoyable thing" you might be saying.  Well, the dreaded aspect comes from the sheer pain of buying a last minute international ticket.  Which will hurt this humble fellows recent plans to get out of debt.

Again I find myself at a cross roads, one I seem to visit at least once a quarter.  Do I do the responsible thing and save money?  Maybe making a plan for much later to achieve this goal?  Or, do I once again set off on a foolhardy adventure spending more time flying than actually being on the ground?

There are some other factors at play here, I'm not at liberty to discuss, but lets put the Vegas odds at about 60/40 for responsibility.

For now.

Oh we were brought up on the Space-Race,
now they expect you to clean toilets.
When you have seen how big the world is how can you make do with this?
& if it all amounts to nothing - it doesn't matter, these are still our glory days.
Pulp - Glory Days

Friday Update

Never bet against stupid, when a Rosevear is in town.

 

The Trip

Jane Austin once said "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of vacation photos must be in want of an audience to annoy the shit out of" ...  I'm paraphrasing.

Anyway, I'll try to keep this brief, as I know hearing about someone's trip is almost as painful as that unfortunate rash I had once.

I set out at the ass-crack of dawn as expected and arrived in Jamaica around 2 in the afternoon.

I'm so worldly

After being offered my obligatory sack of ganja I took a "cab" ride to my resort.

The resort looked like a cruise ship exploded on a beach.  Or, depending on your perspective, a cruise ship feels like a resort stacked on top of itself and set sail.  But lets break it down piece by piece.

The Drinks

The most popular drink that I could gather was a pink slimy Bahama Mamma dispensed from a Slurpee machine.

Authentic!

That and all the Red Stripe you can drink, at one bar dispensed from a re-purposed jug used for cleaning supplies I'm pretty sure.

The Food

Free and plentiful, you too can feel like a big important player as you are waited on extensively.  It's mostly buffet style with various shacks along the beach offering burgers or ice cream.  I'm proud to say I ate at least 5 grilled cheese sandwiches.  All the other kids thought I was the coolest.


The Staff
Wonderful people, dealing with the duality of being both oppressed and supported by the tourism industry.


The Guests
As this whole endeavor was already pricey I chose the least expensive, place I could find, that also didn't sound like a place I might get kidnapped or arrested from.  I ... uh .... have a history of getting into jams.  So I chose, very poorly it seems, a place populated entirely by families, religious and tae kwon doe conventions, and at least 5 class trips.

"So, knickulous, whats wrong with that?" you might be asking yourself.  Well, baby bird, let me just say that when you are at a place surrounded by families honeymooners and groups of 5 or more, you look very out of place as a single guy.  I was half undercover cop, and half guy who got dumped before the honeymoon and the damned tickets were nonrefundable.

"She left me for the guy at the Taco Bell Drive Through"

 The View
 Well the view was admittedly spectacular.  We'll score that one in Jamaica's corner

We'll count this as proof I was there

And what did we learn?

I'm still not sure, I'm writing this from the Dallas Airport waiting for my final trip back, after 4 flights 2 trips through customs and 3 trips through security (don't ask) I'm exhausted and delirious.  There was a point the previous night where I was watching a children's magic show, while listening to Norwegian teenagers speak in norwese (I know its wrong but I like it better) and I realized that life can get very strange if you let it.

I suppose that's the lesson to take from this. "Life can get really strange if you let it".  Whether that is a challenge or a warning I'll leave as an exercise for the reader. 


But Wait There's More
I know adventures like this can come off way more as a guy showing off how much debt he can rack up.  And, I'm not going to dispute that.  I am an American after all.  Because I couldn't convince anyone to join me on this one, I will be donating the money saved by travelling solo to a charity for the Jamaican people.  If anyone knows a good charity hit me up.

Until next time comrades.

Ride Something Ridiculous for a Mile Re-visited

If I had my druthers, I'd be the host of my own science show.  I'd be called Ridiculous Knickulous, and I'd have all sorts of beakers and test tubes and shit.  Guys would want to be me, and women would think they can change me.

Irresistible

Sadly, I am a long ways off from achieving that kind of ridiculousness.  However, this weekend was a good start, as I finally tackled the long delayed goal of riding something ridiculous for a mile.  After sorting through millions of options, I decided anything I attempted should also be a challenge.   So I settled on the pogo stick.

The Pogo Stick

Hailing from a time where toys served a dual purpose of fun makers and bone breakers, the pogo is truly a magnificent thing.  A steel rod that you put next to your crotch and jump up and down on.  Just talking about it makes people smile.


The first problem with the challenge was a lack of a pogo stick, or two, because if your going to pogo you might as well race while doing it.  So, I stopped by Toys R Us and enjoyed the kind of customer service only a single guy without kids can get.

Turns out most pogos sold are for children (agism!).  The best I could find was a stick for 9 year olds with an upper weight limit of 160 lbs.  Since I only needed it for roughly 5000 hops I figured that would have to do so I scooped it up.

The Challenge
Freshly equipped with my new sticks I recruited Colorado's own ninja warrior Anthony and his wife Leah to come down to Wash park for a good ol' fashioned 1 mile pogo race.

A couple that hops together ... shops together?

"Race" may have been a generous term

No sport is complete without risk of testicular damage

You can't tell but I am 3 feet off the ground

The Result

Pain, so much pain.  Turns out pogo sticks made for 9 year old children are not ideal for adults.  Every jump resulted in a smack to the knee, and a scrape on the hand, and the aforementioned testiculars.

Also, trying to achieve any sort of consistent direction is near impossible.  We took less of a straight path and more of a backwards corkscrew.  The kind of path that little brat on family circus would take while also drunk and being chased by a bee.

The "race" turned into more of a quest for survival as we broke every rule listed on the pogo rule set:

1.  Do not compete
2.  Always wear pads
3.  Do not use in the rain
4.  Do not use in public places

But at just under 1 hour we hit the 1 mile mark, there was no winner, only blisters and bruises.

Blisters

Bruises

But we did make it, and now we wait for our official pogo-corp badge and leather jackets.  Then hello new found respect from strangers!

Also, if anyone is in the market for a slightly used warranty-voided pogo stick please inquire within.

Participate in an Eating Contest Re-visited

When it came time to participate in an eating contest I took a moment to reflect on all the joy I've had eating this year.  The gallon of coffee, the 50 hard boiled eggs, and who can forget the week of sushi. 

Thinking back on all these moments I shuddered to think about having to go through another humiliating food related moment in my life.  There were no shortages of suggestions for challenges, insanely hot wings, insanely hot sushi, giant hamburgers.  All I'm sure would result in tears, both for me, and my future therapist.

For the last time, they are ink blots not vomit

Then, like a shining beacon of freedom someone suggested the Voodoo Doughnut Texass challenge.  A blissfully short challenge to eat a large Doughnut, a Doughnut the size of 6 other donuts to be precise.  In 80 seconds.  Challenge accepted.

The Where

Voodoo Doughnuts, is  I believe a Oregon based company famous for its sexual innuendo, cash only policy, and bafflingly long lines at 3 am.  They certainly make for a tasty treat though, should you ever find yourself with a large caloric deficit that needs to be filled immediately.

The Who

I recruited a trusty videographer to document the madness, and we set off.  And promptly found out they were out of the giant doughnut.  So a few days and a new videographer later I set off again and was in luck.

The What

A big ass doughnut.  By which I mean a very large doughnut, not a doughnut with a big ass.

She's actually standing 10 feet away

I was given a small cup for water to use in the challenge, which I filled with ice.  Rookie mistake.  For any future contestants in this challenge, fill that cup up to the brim with water as its the only way to get the doughnut to go down.

The How

Because I can't seem to ever fail quietly these days, I couldn't just eat the thing with a timer.  Instead a huge spectacle was made with alarms and shit talking, and the stares, those awful stares from the mile long line of patrons.

I shoved about 1/4 in my mouth right away hoping to set a strong pace, but then realized I couldn't chew there was no room.   I briefly considered pulling some out, but would rather that particular bit of shame be saved for my more senior years.   I used the water as best I could and got through a 2nd 4th, but after that time was up.  I had shamefully left a full 1/2 a doughnut left.

Believe it or not, this was the most flattering picture

They boxed up the remaining and I left with my head down, there would be no child offering me a coke to whom I could toss my jersey.  No cheers or acceptance speeches.  No free tee shirt.  Only a hot August afternoon waiting for me, and 1/2 of a giant doughnut.

Life is hard.

 

Week 33: Hike a Mountain

Well there's quite a bit of a traffic jam happening now.  As laziness chalks up yet another win.

So I have quite a backlog of things I should be doing, hopefully I'll get my act together and start achieving some soon, in the meantime, time waits for no man.  Unless your name is Time.  I think Chronos stand's for time.  If your name is Time or Chronos, then you can wait for whomever you wish.

Anyway, this week the drawing was done by touring folk star Kamesh.

He picks the hat like he picks the guitar soft and gentle

The result, is a relief that this one finally got drawn during the summer, otherwise it would have been quite the pain in the ass.

It is of course "Hike A Mountain"  I don't have a picture for some reason.  But I'm sure you can imagine what it looks like.


Success!

After another few weeks of inactivity and things were not looking good for yours truly, the protagonist of this ... story?  But, the planets must have aligned because I hit a burst of productivity not seen since the days of my youth when I first discovered women.

So that last sentence seems kind of creepy, or maybe not, I'll let you decide. 

Back to the matter at hand I took my newfound productivity and set off with a couple volunteers to help me climb the eponymous mountain from this post. 

The Mountain
Grays Peak, the highest mountain in the front range apparently.  Don't let that fool you though, it is considered one of the easier mountains to climb.  Named after its discoverer, Sir William Gray famed botanist.  Or maybe named because of its color.  I'm not sure, Wikipedia didn't say.

It's the strapping young fellow on the left

The Climb

Apparently there are 2 popular ways to hike Gray's peak, the way with a trail and other people, or the south side with a "trail" consisting of random piles of rocks to give a general hint as to where you should go.  My intrepid companions being experienced climbers opted, of course, for the latter.

So we set off, and over the course of 3 hours and many, many, many stops to catch our breath, and listen to me try to convince us that "no one will know we didn't actually make it to the top", we made it to the top.

Started Off Easy

We took a quick break hear for some "Sound of Music" reenactments

And we climbed

Pictured: Idyllic asphyxiation

And we climbed

And we finally made it

And now I have the jacket photo for my upcoming novel

The Result

After 6 hours we returned to the car, drunk on oxygen, and covered in blisters.  So, will I now become one of those fourteener Coloradans?  A REI customer loyalty card holder?   Probably not.  It's pretty and worth doing, but try as I might, I can never grow a full enough beard to be a true hiker.  So I'll just post this to Facebook to give the impression that I am.  That is, after all, a true Colorado tradition.

Stick with me kids, there's going to be a swarm of updates soon.

Week 32 - Participate in an Eating Contest

We're back as promised with your weekly dose of fun.  Well, maybe not fun, but weekly dose of mild amusement just doesn't have the same ring.

Anyway after a busy week honoring the departed I am ready for something light hearted.  So I recruited Jin master of disguise to do the drawing this week.

5 seconds earlier he was a 200 lb Jamaican woman

The result, is what I believe is the last of the eating challenges.  At least I pray it is.

So what is an eating contest?  Clearly a pie eating competition, or hot dog eating contest would count, but I'm not sure if a state fair will coincide with this week.  There are also various restaurants with the ol'  eat this gigantic, horrible, or hellfire plate of food in under X amount of time.

Seems likely I'm going to get stuck with the latter, if anyone knows of a good restaurant challenge or contest coming up let a brother know. 

... I'm probably not your brother in the physical sense, unless you are my Sister, in which case hi Tya.

Week 31 - Do the Cemetery Roses Thing

Before writing this I came about the unusual discovery that I may produce more earwax than the average human being.  The question now is what do I do with this knowledge?

As you may have guessed I'm having a frightfully productive day.  But enough of that, we stand at the precipice of week 31.  Technically not "at" the precipice more like "over" the precipice,  I'm not sure "over" makes sense.

Enough rambling.  This week offering her hand to the hat, we have Jane.

In the future this is how people will propose

The result is an interesting one with a bit of a backstory.  This entry is likely to be a little more maudlin and high school philosophy than most so no hard feelings, dear reader, if you decide to take a pass.

"Do the Cemetery Roses Thing"

A while back, I had the thought that it would be nice to find a paupers graveyard, and to place some flowers on all the graves of the forgotten and unloved.  After some research I found that there really aren't any modern paupers graveyards or at least not any near me.  Still, once planted, I've carried this seed with me for the better part of a decade.  So, now I will be able to do it, or some variant of it.

The goal is to find graves of people who are forgotten or unloved.  People who died with the world hardly taking any notice.  The Eleanor Rigby's of the world.  Or father Mackenzie if you prefer.

So what's the point?
This is a fair question and one I've thought about a lot.  The act would be entirely symbolic in nature and whatever money/time I spent doing it would be much better put to use on the living.

The question at the root of it all is "is there value in a symbolic act?".  More so is there value if no one sees it?  I don't have answers for these questions.  I don't have any expectation that doing this will have any impact on the world, or even my own life.  Still, to me, and only for me, I feel that doing this will create a simple moment of beauty in my life.   That's the hope at least. 

And isn't that what were all doing here anyway?

But please, remember me fondly
I heard from someone you're still pretty
And then they went on to say
That the pearly gates
Had some eloquent graffiti
Like "We'll meet again" and "Fuck the man"
And "Tell my mother not to worry"  
Iron and Wine - The Trapeze Swinger

So how was it?

It was a beautiful Sunday, and with the added religious significance of the day I thought it would be a perfect time.  So I set out to a few grocery stores and filled up my cart on all the discount flowers I could find, trying to maximize the cost per flower.

This times 3

  All in all I ended up with approximately 150 flowers across assorted bouquets.  My goal was the local cemetery from my home town, which I remembered as being very old and very small.  Turns out it was not nearly as small as I remembered, but more on that later.

An interesting aside, when you show up at a grocery store counter (desk?) with 10 bundles of flowers you'd expect some sort of reaction, but this was not the case.  I'm not sure what that means, just an interesting thing to come out of this.

I pulled up to the cemetery around 4 PM, it was completely empty and terribly calm and sunny out.  Funny how just being at a cemetery I expected the weather to change to suit the location, it should have been overcast and somber but it wasn't.

Immediately I realized that I had drastically underestimated the number of flowers needed, I'd guess the number of graves there is probably closer to 500.  But, I still had enough flowers to make an impact so I set off.

No snarky comments here.  It took about an hour.  It wasn't magical, I didn't learn some valuable lesson about myself.  But spend sometime walking around looking at graves of families, of infants and teenage sons, and fathers and mothers and it will impact you no matter how jaded you are.

For everyone out there who's lost someone, or who's afraid of losing someone this is for you.  We'll be back next week with a return to the normal half-assed wackiness.