Pah Rum-pum-pum
See I told you. Only 5 more months... ha.
Actually even with part of my heart resting on Dec. 25th, the rest along with my body was in hardy celebration of friendship and the spirit of summer, "Up North" as us Michiganders tag this sort of cabin, camping-esque safari. Spanning the days Friday through Sunday, this remarkably well planned (as notorious as we are for spontaneity and procrastination) adventure up to Tom's cabin (carried by the moniker "Uncle Tom's Cabin") began with modest beginnings; b-fast at "The Diggity", where the "pseudo-humor" between us all nearly drowned out all thoughts within the 4 walls. I had my beloved pancakes and soon thereafter we set sail and began the 4 hour tour into the great north. Two things I did so add to the "If I were Commander + Chief" list: 4.) A state ban, if not a National ban, on carsickness brought on by reading and 5.) every trip going beyond 4 hours must accompany Justin Cook and his house/techno greatest hits. How we all laughed. Actually it was sort of scary going up, for the 3 Captains of our Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria's making our pilgrimage up state (mhehhh.... that didn't really work) happen to be our hands down most madcap drivers. So a final one hour leg of the journey down a 2 lane road ends up in a 3-auto game of death-defying leapfrog, over hills and around semi-blind curves. Definitely not for the faint of heart, of whom I speak for, my automatic fear of being in an oncoming traffic lane for any reason shone through (see: "drunk driver running/rolling Justin off of freeway by driving in fast lane in opposite direction one night"). It was a nice trip up though anyway, capped by none other than future "Uncle Tom's Cabin" M.V.P. James Schultz sprinting from his vehicle, proclaiming "Ever'body start drinking right now" (basically as one long/loud word) and guzzling his handle of rum. Here we go.
Actually it was really a tale of opposites, at least from my perspective I would say. After unpacking, re-listening to my new favourite "adorable profane soundbyte" (dethroning previous champion Nellie McKay for her delish F-bomb in her song 'Clonie', I swear I wrote about it in this someplace), Melissa's cutely vulgar voice mail thanking me for presenting her with a first listen between us of an album, and shagging ass to get foodstuffs at the market, it was on like Chinatown. Between throwing 'Montana to Rice' 's off of the dock and floating around cursing at each other from rafts, summer never tasted sweeter. Isaacs tore his addidas sandal, breaking, temporarily, 'the fellowship of the exact same effing 10 year old sandals' coincidence between us all, only to somewhat patch them up with elec tape, bringing it all back home once more. Then we played Dr. Mario indoors.
And then played it some more.
This is where the tale of opposites part comes to life, for with all the hijinks outside, it was as if Rajala's basement had been cut + pasted in the cabin. It was funny, and it gave us all the down time to construct more 'dork-speak-inside-joke-alienating-from-the-rest-of-society' wordplay, such was the Schultz (earning his MVP stripes) for his role in taking a somewhat humorous Isaacs flex in a pic (where actually the theme had been to flex all along, only everyone basically forgot) into the surfer accented "Totally tuff Tom" legend, as was the same with the running joke of taking the somewhat obscure (only is there such a thing as obscure with this cast of villains?) from Jaws "Ahh Cage goes in the water.... shark's in the water" and basically making "Cage" the operative variable, implanting as cosmic and intangible a replacement as possible. "Pythagorean Theorem goes in the water, bulldozer goes in the water, Beethoven's 5th Symphony goes in the water, The War of 1812 goes in the water..." into infinitum (probably reaching its climax on the night of the final day, where it led to an Isaacs "Shoeless Joe Jackson goes in the water" with a Schultz reply "Pantless Joe Jackson goes in the water" and my cap of "Jawless Joe Jackson goes in the water" and Rajala's girlfriend excusing herself from the room in sheer nerd-induced irritation.
I went fishing on a lake for the first time in my life. It was very strange to me, everyone was so very knowledgeable and strategic, I basically didn't know my head from 3rd base. I eventually did master the fine arts of casting off and slowly reeling and tearing worms into half to bait the hook, but otherwise no bites on the line. I entertained myself with watching, from over the side, the tall seaweed that almost reached the surface of the water. I liked to imagine that there was this huge underwater forrest just below where the fish lived in this sort of aquatic Atlantis.
The last night was really calm but wild. It was like Isaacs, Higgy + Misty, and Ellston and originally, Cook set to go with these ladies from the next cabin over going to this bar and the others staying back, watching this unbelievable blood moon rise from the water, and then Cook, as documented perfectly by Schultz coming apart. Schultz had apparently been flirting with a lady for the whole day and they were set to go to the bar together and whatever, but just before leaving, Cook passes out. Not really passes out, but (minus the continued breathing and hearbeat) dies. And as Schultz yells at him from above like Micky from one of the Rocky movies to get up and fight, he stays down for the count, leaving Schultz to hold Cook's missing shoe and ponder "The shoe of a fallen Prince".
Sunday morning came, with a piping bowl of peaches & cream oatmeal, a summer breeze through the screen door and smiles about not even the things that happened just there, but of the chapters that we have all written together in the storied past, and of this continued evolution between us all; the language and adventures we add to the collective scrapbook is remarkable.
Actually even with part of my heart resting on Dec. 25th, the rest along with my body was in hardy celebration of friendship and the spirit of summer, "Up North" as us Michiganders tag this sort of cabin, camping-esque safari. Spanning the days Friday through Sunday, this remarkably well planned (as notorious as we are for spontaneity and procrastination) adventure up to Tom's cabin (carried by the moniker "Uncle Tom's Cabin") began with modest beginnings; b-fast at "The Diggity", where the "pseudo-humor" between us all nearly drowned out all thoughts within the 4 walls. I had my beloved pancakes and soon thereafter we set sail and began the 4 hour tour into the great north. Two things I did so add to the "If I were Commander + Chief" list: 4.) A state ban, if not a National ban, on carsickness brought on by reading and 5.) every trip going beyond 4 hours must accompany Justin Cook and his house/techno greatest hits. How we all laughed. Actually it was sort of scary going up, for the 3 Captains of our Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria's making our pilgrimage up state (mhehhh.... that didn't really work) happen to be our hands down most madcap drivers. So a final one hour leg of the journey down a 2 lane road ends up in a 3-auto game of death-defying leapfrog, over hills and around semi-blind curves. Definitely not for the faint of heart, of whom I speak for, my automatic fear of being in an oncoming traffic lane for any reason shone through (see: "drunk driver running/rolling Justin off of freeway by driving in fast lane in opposite direction one night"). It was a nice trip up though anyway, capped by none other than future "Uncle Tom's Cabin" M.V.P. James Schultz sprinting from his vehicle, proclaiming "Ever'body start drinking right now" (basically as one long/loud word) and guzzling his handle of rum. Here we go.
Actually it was really a tale of opposites, at least from my perspective I would say. After unpacking, re-listening to my new favourite "adorable profane soundbyte" (dethroning previous champion Nellie McKay for her delish F-bomb in her song 'Clonie', I swear I wrote about it in this someplace), Melissa's cutely vulgar voice mail thanking me for presenting her with a first listen between us of an album, and shagging ass to get foodstuffs at the market, it was on like Chinatown. Between throwing 'Montana to Rice' 's off of the dock and floating around cursing at each other from rafts, summer never tasted sweeter. Isaacs tore his addidas sandal, breaking, temporarily, 'the fellowship of the exact same effing 10 year old sandals' coincidence between us all, only to somewhat patch them up with elec tape, bringing it all back home once more. Then we played Dr. Mario indoors.
And then played it some more.
This is where the tale of opposites part comes to life, for with all the hijinks outside, it was as if Rajala's basement had been cut + pasted in the cabin. It was funny, and it gave us all the down time to construct more 'dork-speak-inside-joke-alienating-from-the-rest-of-society' wordplay, such was the Schultz (earning his MVP stripes) for his role in taking a somewhat humorous Isaacs flex in a pic (where actually the theme had been to flex all along, only everyone basically forgot) into the surfer accented "Totally tuff Tom" legend, as was the same with the running joke of taking the somewhat obscure (only is there such a thing as obscure with this cast of villains?) from Jaws "Ahh Cage goes in the water.... shark's in the water" and basically making "Cage" the operative variable, implanting as cosmic and intangible a replacement as possible. "Pythagorean Theorem goes in the water, bulldozer goes in the water, Beethoven's 5th Symphony goes in the water, The War of 1812 goes in the water..." into infinitum (probably reaching its climax on the night of the final day, where it led to an Isaacs "Shoeless Joe Jackson goes in the water" with a Schultz reply "Pantless Joe Jackson goes in the water" and my cap of "Jawless Joe Jackson goes in the water" and Rajala's girlfriend excusing herself from the room in sheer nerd-induced irritation.
I went fishing on a lake for the first time in my life. It was very strange to me, everyone was so very knowledgeable and strategic, I basically didn't know my head from 3rd base. I eventually did master the fine arts of casting off and slowly reeling and tearing worms into half to bait the hook, but otherwise no bites on the line. I entertained myself with watching, from over the side, the tall seaweed that almost reached the surface of the water. I liked to imagine that there was this huge underwater forrest just below where the fish lived in this sort of aquatic Atlantis.
The last night was really calm but wild. It was like Isaacs, Higgy + Misty, and Ellston and originally, Cook set to go with these ladies from the next cabin over going to this bar and the others staying back, watching this unbelievable blood moon rise from the water, and then Cook, as documented perfectly by Schultz coming apart. Schultz had apparently been flirting with a lady for the whole day and they were set to go to the bar together and whatever, but just before leaving, Cook passes out. Not really passes out, but (minus the continued breathing and hearbeat) dies. And as Schultz yells at him from above like Micky from one of the Rocky movies to get up and fight, he stays down for the count, leaving Schultz to hold Cook's missing shoe and ponder "The shoe of a fallen Prince".
Sunday morning came, with a piping bowl of peaches & cream oatmeal, a summer breeze through the screen door and smiles about not even the things that happened just there, but of the chapters that we have all written together in the storied past, and of this continued evolution between us all; the language and adventures we add to the collective scrapbook is remarkable.
posted by Healthy Obsession at 11:44 PM
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