Brewed Awakenings

That's the name of the little coffee shack I just passed. Brewed Awakenings. Earlier, I passed The Human Bean, and Bean There Done That. I guess that makes it official. Coffee shops have surpassed eyeglass stores and hair saloons as the biggest offenders in the 'how silly a name can you come up with for your business' race. Don't feel bad about this turn of events. I certainly don't. The hair and eyeglass outlets had a good long run. Who can forget Sheer Madness, For Your Eyes Only, Hair Today Gone Tomorrow, The Clip Joint, His And Hairs, Loose Ends, The Mane Event, A Cut Above, For Eyes, Specs Appeal and so on . Hey, if it weren't for these pun pioneers, there may never have been a Daily Grind, Brews Brothers, Common Grounds or Bean Around The World.

Population 0

Disney likes to sing, "It's a small world" but I think Steven Wright was closer to the truth when he quipped, "It's a small world. But I'd hate to have to paint it." Melanie and I just returned from a road trip that took us from Sisters, Oregon to Boise, Salt Lake City, Aspen, Colorado Springs, Santa Fe, Taos, Moab, Provo and back home again. But what stood out during this 60 hour plus driving epic wasn't the cities and people along the way but, instead, the incredibly vast and unpopulated spaces that still make up the American west. Speaking conservatively (and I rarely do), I would have to say that for about 50 of those hours there wasn't a single house or person to been seen in any direction outside our windows. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Just land, land and more land. I guess what I'm trying to say is, go ahead and have all the unprotected, whiskey fueled, Bristol Palin crazed-monkey sex you want.  There's plenty of room.

Bump

On a recent road trip Melanie and I were driving through New Mexico and we were out in the middle of nowhere when we drove by a sign that read "Bump". 

A bit farther down the road we passed another sign that read "Bump".  And then we hit the bump. It was just a small depression in the road, nothing major at all. But it got me wondering. At some point two guys had to get in a truck, drive to wherever they store the "Bump" signs, load them in the truck, stop for a danish and coffee, drive out to where the bump was, mix cement, dig a hole, put the sign in, put the other sign in and go home. Why didn't they just fix the bump?

Please Don't Tell Melanie

I'm in love. I didn't plan it, it just happened. I was at a beautiful Japanese spa in Santa Fe called Ten Thousand Waves and decided to get a private soaking room before my massage. When I walked into the room, there she was. Small, with delicate porcelain features.  Her name was Toto.  She was a toilet but not just any toilet. To be honest, up until now, my relationships with toilets have been pretty one dimensional. You know what I mean. But this was different. Toto seemed to know what I wanted, sometimes before I even knew I wanted it. Sure, she did all the obvious stuff, the things you expect but there was so much more. Push one button and her lid went up and down. Push a button for a big flush, push another for a small flush. And that's when things really started to get interesting. Push the right button and Toto would also shoot a spray of warm water... well...I'm not one to kiss and tell.  Sometimes the warm water would oscillate, sometimes it would pulse.  I never knew and, frankly, I didn't care. At this point I was too far gone.  And when it was all over, Toto would blow dry everything.  She even had a tiny built-in sink that would come on automatically.  What love, what consideration, what ecstasy.  Isn't that what a relationship is all about.

Good Will Exiting

I just drove through Salt Lake City recently and whatever moron was put in charge of writing the exit signs should have six of their wives taken away. Every sign looks like the math equation that Matt Damon solved in Good Will Hunting.  This is sort of what you have to decipher as you're traveling 70 mph.

Exit 258-B

ISB25S     SW East 203 21st 2000/45 3 miles

ISBA/3    20443   IA200/BB345W 2.5 miles

HWY229  1002/2003 1/2 E 4   miles

Is anyone out there from Salt Lake.  Can you explain this to me? Is it like those old cities where they made the streets like a maze to confuse invaders? Are they just smarter then me in Salt Lake? 

They Want To Pump You Up

A little tip if you're traveling by car to Oregon. Don't try to pump your own gas. It's against the law. No shit. The first time I drove up there I got out of my car and started pumping like I always do and all I heard was, "Sir, stop right there. Put your hands up. And step away from the pump." They really get freaked about it. Which can be scary because most of the people who are qualified to pump your gas in Oregon are crack addicts or survivalists who have left the compound and come down off the mountain to make a little money so they can buy more bullets and Spam. It's a pretty wacky system but I've mostly gotten used to it.  The only problem now is when I leave Oregon and have to pump my own gas.  More than a few times I've forgotten to take the hose out of my tank and have driven away.  Not a pretty sight. 

They Loved Me In Burns

'Getting a laugh'  in a foreign country has always been a great challenge for me. And, until recently, making that tuk tuk driver in Bangkok spit water through his nose has been my greatest achievement. In many ways, Oregon is like a foreign country, especially when you get into the eastern part and towns like Burns. Known mostly for its onions and manure, Burns is populated by what I consider a 'tough audience' for my brand of humor. Cowboys, ranchers, cow inseminators. (Thanks Rich) But as those posters say in card stores, 'Face your fears and watch them disappear.' So I did. We had just pulled into a Sinclair gas station.  It was early Sunday so there wasn't a lot of action in town and several of the local boys had gathered at the gas station to talk crop reports and maybe hope for a city boy to stop by that they could throw in back and beat on the kidneys with sticks for awhile. Enter me. As I pushed through the door and stepped up to the register I picked up on some of their conversation. Apparently, one of them had seen something on the tv about traffic and commutes in Los Angeles.  He said, "I heard that there are people in Los Angeles with a three to four hour commute to work." My heart started to beat a little faster as I knew right where to go. I turned to the group and said, "I just moved here from Los Angeles and that was about how long my commute to work was."  Wait for it Mark. Wait for it.  Now.  "And I only lived 10 miles away." Huge laughs.  As I walked out the door to thunderous applause and laughter I could only think to turn and say,  "Thank you. Thank you. I'll be here all week. Have a great time and be sure to tip your waitress."  Crickets.