Monday, January 20, 2014

Weekend Warrants

On Friday, Yahoo #1 and Chaperone Spouse had a scout campout and sled slosh.  They call it the Klondike, which I believe was called such because of an ice cream sandwich. Something about two skis with a kid in the middle being like two cookies and some ice cream?  Something like that.

The plan: head up  "The Fark" for twelve (plus) hours of toil, travail and tussle – they were taking twelve and thirteen year-olds.  It's winter and their quarters were outside, in a frigid and forlorn fourteen degrees Fahrenheit.  Fifteen if they were lucky.

"Those are some choice camping conditions!" said I, in fluent sarcasm, which as you might guess, is my second language, right after English, and just before home-grown-Utah-born-redneck. "Thanks for the invite, but Yahoo #2 and I will find other things to do."

When campouts come around, Yahoo #2 and I go out and "hang."  I like to call it a "date," but he's partial to "hang." This was timely.  We two were in desperate need of some quality one-on-one time.  The Yahoos thrive on this one-on-one business.  Thrive, I say, thrive.  

Which warranted...

Snack on Sushi. "What should we do?" I asked, knowing the answer.  He replied with "snack on sushi."  He's predictable, that one; we should have a discussion about this.  Moms LOVE surprises, not predictions.  We LOVE it when we're surprised with last minute oh-no-I-forgot-my-homework at 10:00pm before an eminent 8:00am due date, and we LOVE it when they surprise us with a good up-chuck in the middle of the night.

(As an aside, I just tried to come up with an on-purpose mischievous surprise to mention, but it didn't happen.  My kids are still young. I haven't, and don't currently fret about their antics.  Yet.)

This time we tried all-you-can-eat sushi at this place called the Sushi House. I find the Sushi House mostly – meh.  I like to taste the yellowtail and tuna and sushi and eel. I like fish, therefore I want to taste the fish. I eat sushi because I like fish.  This Sushi House drowns and drizzles their rolls in so much mayo, fake crab and sweet stuff that it tastes like, well, mayo, fake crab and sweet stuff.

Then there's that Tobiko Tumble – gasp.  You cannot (cannot!) sprinkle a few sesame seeds in lieu of fish eggs and have it fly!  Sesame seeds don't squirt when you squeeze 'em between your gnashers! The least they could do is dye them orange.

(I see a future for me in the food critic business.  That was rock-star food-critic material, yes?)

Will we go back? Yes, because the Yahoo wants to.   Dinner was still terrific, however, because he sat right next to me and we made plans for skiing the next day.

Which warranted...

Bread Baking.  Bread baking?  What does bread baking have to do with snow skiing?  Let me tell you!  We ski where my dad Mikey works.  I like to store my backpack in his shack, so to ensure we earn our backpack keep and don't wear out our welcome, I bring Mikey and his "pards" some bread.  They thank me and thank me and thank me.  It's a win-win.  They are some fine individuals.

Which warranted...

First-aid Feat.  They save lives at this ski resort.  And thanks to a hunky ski patroller and some recent CPR, electric shock, and a helicopter ride, there's one more dad, husband, brother and friend in this world.  Time with loved ones is a rare commodity.  Get it while you can.

Which warranted...

Couch Cuddles and Cinema.  That night's movie of choice was The Lone Ranger.  I heard it was a colossal flop, tried it anyway, and was pleasantly surprised.  The story is on the slow side and Yahoo #1 says it "lacks music," but I found it very entertaining. The photography – especially the lighting; the locations – filmed in Utah and Colorado; the special effects – extra especially the runaway train scene at the end; and the characters – every western needs a pirate; were just to die for.

(Not really. I'm never dying for a movie.)

This Ranger feature had us doing some research.  Did you know that Armie Hammer is heir to the baking soda empire of the same name?!  Serious!  If only my grandpa had cornered the market on some cooking commodity, I could be an actor in a movie inspired by social media and then another one inspired by a radio show.  If only.  Sigh.  We also researched the origin of kemosabe, Barry Pepper (he has a great face for story telling, doesn't he?) and the silver mines of the west.

Which warranted...

Silver Shack Symposium.  Long ago, Park City was the home of a booming silver mine.  Lots of folks got rich.  As it goes, the silver slowed and the miners were forced to find work elsewhere.  What these miners didn't realize, is that the mountains were the real treasure, not the nonsensical constituent for junk jewelry that was buried beneath.

Someone finally figured that out in 1963 and built a resort.  People from far and wide would come to ride things – skis, mountain bikes, snowboards and even a slippery back-side when doing the slide-for-life.  Park City ski runs hold the mining tradition with names like Comstock, Keystone, Hoist, Payday, Bonanza, Glory Hole, Powder Keg, Prospector, Dynamite and The Shaft (always end the day with The Shaft!)  There's also this run called Mikey's, but it's not named after the miner Mikey, it's named after my dad Mikey.

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Short Fuse.  Named after me?

These Park City mountains are sprinkled with more than snow.  Many of the runs provide a home for old mining shacks and whatnot.  This is where Saturday's symposium started.  I would ski over to one of the shacks, point to it directly, and shout, "Hey Yahoo!  This is a historic silver structure!"  And he would look at me in his "so what" tone and ski off.  One day he'll appreciate this.  One day.

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Mine something-er-other on "Claim Jumper"

It was a beautiful.  A day for the books.  The mountains and the sun and the crisp, cool air were all so refreshing.  Down in the town?  Not so much.  Jam a three-day-weekend, the Sundance Film Festival, and the Olympic Trials into one little mining town and you have car chaos.  We couldn't get out fast enough.  It was stressful. We needed to be out Tonto because we had plans to meet Spouse's parents for a movie.

Which warranted...

Frozen Flick with Family.  We saw Frozen.  It started out slow and I was annoyed.  I was tired from all this hard-playin', and their cartoony eyes were just too big.  Made me think they could see right into my dark and lonely soul (a dark, very dark place, indeed.)  It picked up, though, and I had several good laughs while Spouse was out in the lavatory with a scout campout souvenir (food poisoning! Yay!)  He'll need to see this Frozen one again.  We all left very tired.

Which warranted...

Rest, Responsibility, Religion, Refreshment, and Reflexion.  First, a good night's rest was had for all (except for maybe Spouse.)  Next came five hours of work, some church – wherein we're reminded to be good people,  and finally we had crock-cooked basalmic beef with roasted root vegetables, humbly prepared, by a June Mom and her Cleaver.*  It was a packed weekend.  I'm trashed.  I haven't done that much in a weekend since I was in my, like, twentys.

*True story, I was born in June, I have a cleaver, and it was used to prepare said meal.  I don't do anything humbly, though, so that's not a true story.

Which warranted...

What the What?  Where did I fetch the fire to do all that?  Where did I get the oomph and enterprise to keep going until I dropped?  I'll tell you.  It's because I ran 10 miles.  Ten!  One mile, ten times.  (Actually it was five miles with a quarter mile walk followed by two miles and a sip of water, then three more miles.)

I ran 10 miles!

Ten miles is the threshold.  There's something about ten miles.  Once you carry your newlywed running self over that ten mile mark it's smooth sailing.  I've rehabbed and recuperated enough to know that this is true.  Once you hit ten, the inner "can't do it" gets sacked.

Which warranted...

Boston Bound.  I'm registered! And I'm going!

(I've been registered since last fall, but the actual going part has been iffie, so this is big news.)

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1 comment:

Aubrey said...

Woohoo! I am ecstatic for you!