Still Home

House is subletted, bills are paid (that may be a first) and I've been being mean to the cats so they won't miss us when we leave. 70 days in Peru and Bolivia coming right on up. Leaving July 4th, unbelievably bad timing. For 5 years I've been waiting to see an American take back the world championship in Hot Dog eating, and for the first time since that Japanese rascal Kobayashi ate his way into the record books, the smart money is being laid down on a hometown boy. Mark Chestnut...remember where you heard that name first. Picture a man 1/2 Rocky, 1/2 Rambo, and 2/3 wolverine. July 4th, Coney Island, in front of Nathan's, he will bring the crown home, and I'm going to be on an stupid airplane missing the best day in modern American sporting history. I hate my life...this trip better be good.

Lycia's passport is funny. The new American passports have been scientifically designed to maximize the hate and ill-will towards the Americans that carry them. More American flags than at a Chinese sweatshop, and pages and pages of quotes explaining why our country is superior to others, my favorite being one from ole' Abe Lincoln, reminding the foreign infidels that will be checking our passports that the United States shall not perish from the earth. That should go over well. The only thing its missing is one of those little digital players they put in Hallmark cards, so it would play the Star Spangle Banner while GWB is saying "Bring it on" when opened.

Anyway, the passport does have an RFD device in it, so I'll stop criticizing. They are probably monitoring my keystrokes. Hopefully not, they'll probably steal my idea for the micro-digital player.

We have big plans for this trip, but I don't want to get anybodies hopes up, it's always possible that we'll fly into Lima and I'll lose our nest egg in a crooked poker game, leaving us stranded and broke. I'd be forced to smuggle Incan treasures out of the country for an evil billionaire in exchange for a plane ticket home, and Lycia can wrestle llamas in small villages for pocket change. Wow, that would be cool.

Anyway, this was just a test run of this blogetty thing, if you've read this far, you must be disappointed. You learned nothing. Maybe next time we add something to this blog about Peru and Bolivia, I won't be at home in New Orleans, at my desk, in my undies. We'll see.

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