2nd Annual Birthday Baseball Bash

The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good and it could be again. - Terrence Mann

___________________________

Last year, on the eve of my 26th birthday, my buddies at Camp discovered quite the providential situation: my life-long (er, month-long) favorite baseball team, the Pittsburgh Pirates, would be in the state the next day for a battle with their division rivals, the Milwaukee Brewers. Of course, there was no way we couldn't hit up that adventure, so off we went the next day for the Inaugural April 28th showdown between the pride of Wisconsin and the pride of nearly nobody.

This year, those responsible for setting the MLB schedule obliged in scheduling the Pirates vs. the Brewers on April 28th once again, which meant that once again there was no way we were going to miss this classic rivalry. Plus, once something happens once, it becomes tradition, and there is simply nothing worse than breaking tradition (just ask my folks about not coming home for Thanksgiving the last couple years...).

Because word spread near and far regarding the amazingness of the Inaugural adventure, friends from all over the state rolled out to Milwaukee so they too could take in the excitement. This year's edition of the game had a 12:10 start time, making it my first MLB day game! Also, it meant that if we wanted to take in the world famous Miller Park tailgating, we'd have to depart from the ole 53959 fairly early.

So depart early we did, as two vehicles packed full of rowdy baseball fans rolled out of camp at 7:00am sharp. A third vehicle left camp a little later due to a slight delay from a young fan that was extra excited for his very first Major League Baseball game!

Friends Mo-T, Cari, and Pat rolled east with me in my fearless chariot, while pals Sean, Renata, Jenna, and Lindsay headed to the game in Lindsay's American-Made Dodge. The highlight of the journey in our vehicle was when Pat acted like he had fallen asleep against the passenger side window as we drove by a school bus full of kids. Needless to say, the pandaemonium on the bus that resulted from this comical scene put smiles on all of our faces. However, the other vehicle made a pit stop at Panera Bread, so it sounded like it was a successful journey for both parties.

The parking lot at Miller Park opens 3 hours before day games for tailgating, which was perfect, because we pulled in at 9:20. It wasn't long before we were tossing around the pigskin, playing catch with a baseball, and challenging each other to games of Baggo. Grilling began shortly thereafter with a new delicacy: Brats filled with both cheese and raspberries. Mmmm, does life get any better?

A car load of friends (Joseph, Kateri - who put a huge smile on my face by wearing a Pirates hat! - and Rachel) from the Milwaukee area finally made it around 11:00, just as Pat finished grilling the last batch of brats.

Though I've been to a handful of MLB games at a few different ballparks in the past several years, the roots of my baseball fandom comes from going to OKC 89er games as a kid. The OKC 89ers are the minor league affiliate of the Texas Rangers, named after the year of Oklahoma's epic land run. Going to 89er games as a youngster was my introduction to "professional baseball."

One of my fondest memories from an 89er game is when I went to a game with my dad - I was maybe 8 or 9 - and we saw one of his old college buddies at the game, Pat Peters. Pat was armed and ready for a day of fun, as he brought along a fishing net in the hopes of catching a fly ball. This memory has stuck with me ever since, so as I was packing up for the journey to Milwaukee, I made sure to swing by the fishing shed down at the Lake to borrow Camp's rarely-used fishing net (In all my years at camp, I've only seen the net used once). All I know is that when you sit in the outfield of a baseball park, adding a fishing net with a 6 foot pole to a 6'7'' wingspan does nothing but dramatically increase ones odds of catching a home run.

Turns out, what I didn't know, is that security at MLB games is a bit more strict than shoddy minor league baseball operations, especially when it comes to smuggling in 6 foot fishing nets (Plus we were sitting way, WAY up in left field - Even a fishing pole with a 60 foot pole wouldn't have been enough). So after carrying the net all the way from the car to the stadium, a friendly elderly gentleman working the ticket booth kindly told me that I wasn't allowed to bring fishing nets into the stadium.

Back to my car Mo-T and I journeyed to return the net, but it ended up working out perfectly because by the time we got back to the entrance to the stadium, Jeff, Rebecca, and Andrew (the overly excited first time baseball game goer), had finally arrived! We handed off their tickets, entered the stadium (this time sans fishing net), found our friends, and enjoyed a beautiful afternoon of baseball.

Sure, a showdown between the Brewers and Pirates - two-sub .500 teams - may not seem like the most attractive matchup, but with the weather near-divine, hot dogs and small sods selling for only $1, and being surrounded by a gaggle of amazing people, it simply could not have been a better day.

Plus, the Pirates won in the 14th inning (and they won the next day as well, stealing the series from the favored Brewers).

Thanks for an absolutely wonderful day, gang! I'm already looking forward to the third annual! I'll leave you with some fun photos from the day (thanks to Lindsay and Jeff/Rebecca for their top-notch photography skills - I know that if I was in need of a photographer for a wedding/corporate gathering/bar mitzvah/AC competition, I'd seek out y'alls services first.). Let me know if you're interested in taking in the 3rd annual (You don't want to miss out on this tradition...).

It's not a baseball game without some Big League Chew

L to R: Pat, Joseph, & Topher

L to R: Rachel, Kateri, Mo-T, Cari, and Renata

A friendly Baggo game to settle old scores: I think we proved who(m) carried who(m)...

Aaah, look at the sun on those faces... yup, it was a perfect afternoon for baseball!

The world famous Klements Giant Sausage Race. Due to an unfortunate incident 4 years ago, I always root against the chorizo. Always.

Andrew's first big league baseball game!

It won't be long until this little guy says,

"Hey... Dad? Wanna have a catch?"

- Peace be da journey

Extreme Ping Pong

As promised, a short video of Extreme Ping Pong.

So you're aware, the rules are as follows:

1. Aim for the fan.
2. Keep the ball up.
3. Keep the ball from rolling into the bathroom.

Enjoy!





- Peace be da journey

Journey South

Editors Note: If you haven't read The Plea, please do so before continuing.

Editors Note 2: To get the full effect of The Journey South, please open a different window with the following link: Road Trip Official Song

I love road trips. Big ones. Little ones. And yes, even ones to Kentucky (which from Wisconsin means you must travel the entire length - top to bottom - of Illinois). As they say, it's not the destination (I think whoever "they" are, were themselves traveling to Kentucky through Illinois...), it's the journey (okay, and whom you're visiting...). So it was, a few Tuesdays ago, at 6:42pm, we found ourselves pulling out of the St. Joseph Catholic School parking lot, heading south - with, of course, a stop first at the local Quik Trip for cokes and snack'ms (no road trip is complete without an abundance of junk food). While an abundance of snacks was in fact purchased, we made sure not to indulge too much, as a mere 1.78 hours down the road stood the ever-Incredible Belvidere Oasis!

Earlier in the day, Bill had reminded us - quite emphatically, I might add - that because we'd be passing near Chicago, our travels would take us under the Belvidere Oasis. The exuberant reaction from this reminder-statement was similar to when John Lucas III drained the 3-pointer against St. Joes in 2004 to send Okie State to the Final Four! Pure unadulterated ecstaticness!

If you're unaware, the Belivdere Oasis is an Interstate Rest Area that would no doubt fail a HGH test (The Mark McGwire of Rest Areas - albeit, the Belvidere fully admits that his HGH use is for performance enhancement and not simply to recover from injury (a la the Big Mac)). It couldn't be more appropriately named, as it's located in Illinois (translation: desert). It is located above (yes! above!) Interstate 90 and is packed full of delicious restaurants (Panda Express, Taco Bell, Subway, etc), wonderful snack locales (Auntie Anne's), piping hot and d-lish caffeinated beverages (Starbucks!), fun games (they have a mini-bus that has been turned into one of those games that are crammed full with stuffed animals that you throw 50 cents at and you try in vain to position the claw in order to successfully retrieve one of the aforementioned stuffed animals, yet inevitably, the claw is equivalent to a dead fish hand shake that is so weak that you're half-scared you may have done damage), and the always important $1/3 minute vibrating chair:

Anywhoski, the stop was delightful, but probably a scosh long, because our late departure meant we wouldn't be pulling into Allie's driveway until around 4 in the morn.

Along the way, there was nothing we wouldn't do to assure that all five of us were wide awake for the entire journey - one of those agreements that seems well and good early in the day, but turns into a cluster as we had to struggle nearly perpetually to keep one of our road-trippers awake. I won't mention names, but his name starts with a 'B' and ends with 'ill Van Wagner'. A half-asleep Bill turns into a crabby Bill, but thanks to my many years of road tripping (I once drove to Chicago from Stillwater, OK with 9 guys in a 5 seat Tahoe just to eat a deep dish pizza - not that I'm bragging or anything, it was just awesome, and there is talk of turning that adventure (or one like it) into a full length feature story on a blog), I knew the perfect remedy to a late night crabby road-trip passenger... DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL! Now, I know what you're thinking, "How does emo turn a crabster into a joyster?" Well, how does mustard turn a corn dog into a masterpiece? Exactly.

Another technique we used to keep all engaged and joyful was an attempt to successfully quote Dumb & Dumber - yes, the entire movie (and, since the soundtrack may or may not be a part of my compact disc collection, we may or may not have been able to use the music to illustrate the beauty of this masterpiece). Not only did we quote the movie, but we would narrate the scene so that our less enthusiastic D&D friends were kept in the loop. Though we only made it to the part where Harry slips the GAS MAN the rat poison -

Harry: "You heard him. He blamed me. Those were his last words."

Lloyd: "Not if you count the gurgling sound..."

I'd say we got an A- for the solid effort put forth by all!

Finally, after nearly 11 hours of driving, we pulled into Allie's driveway at a quarter to 5am. Naturally, when we were a mere 8 - 10 minutes from our destination, we put in the classic road-trip celebratory compact disc: Garth Brooks! Unfortunately, Allie didn't reciprocate our excitement for both finally arriving to her home, and for jamming out to The Man, because before she even said hello, she exclaimed: "Why are you listening to Garth Brooks?" Answer: Click Here. Enough Said.

Our adventure was much to short, as we were at Allie's for only about 26 hours before we had to hit the road back north. However, it was as fun a 26 hours as any of us four have ever had, albeit, a bit of a blur.

Because the time spent at Allie's was a bit of a blur: little to no sleep + super spicy tomato soup + amazingly fun and outrageous "extreme ping pong" - I won't pen much regarding our time there, except to say that we're extremely grateful for Allie's hospitality. She made us eggs, french toast, and coffee for breakfast, showed us around her campus, introduced us to her new friends, bought us all coffee at her favorite coffee shop, and even let us throw a football illegally in the student union! Yes, her hospitality was grand. Thanks Allie!

A random roadtrip to Kentucky?! Yes! Jenna, Sean, Topher, Mot, William, & Allie can't contain big toothy smiles.

Oh, and also, look for a video to be posted here soon with exclusive footage of the aforementioned "extreme ping pong."

P.S. The actual Official Road Trip song was in fact "Crimson and Clover," but performed by Jimmy Eat World, not Tommy James. However, I couldn't find a quality version by Jimmy, so Tommy's version had to suffice. Thanks for understanding.

- peace be da journey

The Plea...

Approximately three weeks ago, four friends (Sean, Jenna, Mo-T, & Bill) and I were itchin' for a road trip, and the only way to scratch that itch was to embark on a journey. The decision to set forth on an adventure proved to be the easy part, as deciding where our travels would take us left us perplexed. We decided to put forth a plea, asking the loyal readers of a blog for suggestions, and the response was overwhelming...

The first to respond to our plea was one of a blogs most loyal readers, Monica.

"Milwaukee. Two hour drive, plenty of couches to stay on, plenty of camp staff in the nearby area to hang out with (me, Kateri, Joseph, Zara etc etc). I can't think of a reason NOT to come to Milwaukee."

Doug, from Iowa, is newer to the a blog scene, but he's certainly not shy about putting forth his two cents:

"I can think of a reason not to go to Milwaukee, Monica: Doug and Brian are not there! Why not come and enjoy the pleasures of central Iowa? There's plenty of snow here, and we're having an awesome Mass Thursday night at our student center. Plus, is going to Milwaukee really an adventure? It's not even out of state!"

After reading Doug's post, we initially threw out his offer, as it included an event that was to take place during a time that we wouldn't be around. However, thankfully, the aforementioned Brian came to the rescue. With Brian's second-to-none wit, and writing ability that rivals some of the best, Doug and Brian were back in the game:

"Doug is correct that central Iowa is a beautiful place to visit, even if just for a few days. Now Douglass did forget to mention the fact that a Mr. Nennig also lives in the area, and while he did say that there is a Thursday Night Liturgy (foolishly not realizing that Thursday night doesn't fit in your allotted time), there is also several Ash Wednesday Masses to attend. Who wouldn't want to see one of the top 25 most beautiful campuses in the nation (among Pepperdine, Princeton, and U of Hawaii), especially whilst it's blanketed in a freshly fallen, fluffy snow? Also during your stay, we can offer such fine amenities as:

- A free health screening, provided by some lovely, well trained medical students.
- A NCAA mens basketball game in which the local Cyclones take on the stunning Oklahoma State Cowboys.
- A complementary computer science lecture on the defining of computational speed.
-Much, much more...

Now I know what your thinking, "What possible place on earth can one place offer so much, for such a reasonable overhead of money and travel time?" And my answer is "Ames, Iowa."

Though other offers came flooding in from folks in Denver, Colorado; Lawrence, Kansas; LaCrosse, Wisconsin; Edmond, Oklahoma, and St. Louis, Misery, Brian & Doug's Ames, Iowa one-two punch had us against the ropes... That is, until Tim back-hand slapped some sense into us...

"I would say Stevens Point, because I would love to see you guys, but let's be real. It's Stevens Point. I am not under any delusion (i.e. Doug and Brian) that my place of residence is of any interest to any of you. So best of luck to you guys and I look forward to seeing you soon."

Then it dawned on us: While many folks responded with exciting destinations for our travels - which was part one of the plea - nobody answered the second question of the plea:

"Also, in your email/comments, please let us know what a WNBA Big Box would consist of... I have my theories..."

The disappointment in the air could be cut with a knife. "Well gang," Sean said, "maybe a road trip isn't in the cards..."

Then, almost as if prodded to answer the question, Allie, from the bluegrass state of Kentucky, sent this money-post our way:

"One could ask "what is the WNBA exactly?" Is it trying to be just like the NBA? Is it trying to create its own identity? Kind of like this whole "lose weight with Taco Bell Fresco Menu" thing.... So in my humble opinion the $5 WNBA Big Box would consist of: Fresco Soft Taco, Fresco Burrito Supreme (chicken, of course), fiesta potatoes (no cheese or sour cream), & 12 oz water. And, yes, you will be unsatisfied once finished- Just like you are when done watching any WNBA team play..."

And.... Boom goes the dynamite.

"Sweet Sassy Molassey!!!" exclaimed Jenna, "We're heading to Kentucky!"

Allie - similar to when Harry donned a bullet proof vest and was a horrible shot - saved the day.

Mo-T sent Allie a text message at 12:41pm Tuesday, February 16th that simply read: "See ya at 3:30 in the morning..."

And with that, the road trip to Kentucky was made official...

To be continued...

- Peace be da journey

Kentucky or Bust!

The $5 NBA Big Box

The whereabouts of my current location is the Starbucks in the Wisconsin Dells, which sits directly across Highway 13 from Taco Bell. I sit here determined to crank out a blog post, as my brain rests from nearly two hours of study of the New Testament (that Paul sure knew how to write - albeit, I suppose he had some help...).

The reason I bring up the Taco Bell, and the purpose for the title of this post, "The NBA Big Box" is because before I meandered over to my current locale, I took in the delicious new $5 Taco Bell special, "The NBA Big Box" (ETS: 21 minutes). "The Big Box" consists of a Gordita, one Burrito Supreme, one Taco Supreme, Cinnamon Twists, and a 32 oz. cup for your carbonated beverage of choice, (oh, and it also comes with loads and loads of regret - especially if the lock on the door at the Starbucks is broken, meaning a proper disposal can't take place until the group of people you're with are ready to go back to camp, which won't take place until nearly 2.5 hours after consumption of a meal that at one time seemed like a good idea, but is quickly oscillating into a heinous destructive rebel force....) I digress.

Speaking of the group of people I'm at Starbucks with (Jenna, MoT, & Seanie); we were invited to a friends cabin next week up in the north woods of Wisconsin to ski, snow shoe, ice fish, and drink lots and lots of coffee (Thanks to Laura and the fine folks at the Base Camp Coffee shop in Appleton for the generous gift of the Mystic Monk Coffee - we brewed some in the Camp Gray office today, and although the ambiance of our office most likely can't compare to the ambiance of your cozy coffee shop, smiles were prevalent, spirits were lifted, and there was much amazement regarding the sweetness of Monk flavored Coffee), however, those plans were cancelled, leaving us roughly 46 hours (Tuesday at 6:00pm - Thursday at 4:00pm) to embark on an abbreviated adventure to anywhere in the world (that is, anywhere within a small enough radius that we can drive there and back within the 46 hours - hopefully leaving at least a couple hours to rest somewhere half-way.

That's where you come in, friends. We need your help. It's not often that your boss tells you to leave ("Seriously Chris, we think you should go with them."), AND offers to pay for the trip! ("Just take the petty cash bag.") (ha! J/K!)

So, can we come visit you and stay with you? Will you cook us food? We are taking applications for us to come and visit you. Please just simply comment on this post or send an email to: christopher.clyde.aderhold@gmail.com

Also, in your email/comments, please let us know what a WNBA Big Box would consist of... I have my theories...

-Peace be da journey

SVILUPPO: The overwhelming response from the inquiry regarding our 46 hour adventure next week has been, to say the least, humbling. We'll update all soon regarding the destination. Thanks everyone for your eagerness to host us four shmoes...

(Plutonic) Man 'L' Word

Before we begin, please copy the link below and open it in a different page. Make sure your volume is up...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2zmo463Md7M&feature=related

Legend has it that in the year of our Lord, 1979, a bearded man named Pat was propagated in a snowy field in South Dakota. Legend has it that he crawled out of the womb and exclaimed in Czech, "I am the SPA." Legend has it that in high school his dominance in the yearbook room sparked comparisons to King Leonidas' dominance on the battle field. Yes, Pat took no prisoners, edited those yearbooks like a mad man, and earned the highly coveted honor of being an All-State Yearbooker. While certain fame and an abundance of money was awaiting this humble humanitarian, he turned down a professional yearbook career to spread the Gospel to thousands. Legend has it that he inspired many during the school-year with a couple stints on NET, a year as a gourmet chef, and several years of campus ministry. Legend has it that his summers were spent serving at Camp Gray (which btw is considered by at least one man to be the best Catholic camp in the country), not for a mere summer or two, but for nearly a quarter of a century.

Legend has it that a simple blog writer that hailed originally from the panhandled state of Oklahoma became acquaintances with Pat in 2006 AD.

And now, this is where things get hazy among historians.

After several years of friendship, there was a man embrace between Pat and the blog writer not unlike: click here. While most historians agree that there would have certainly been a high level of awkwardness during a hug between Pat and the blog writer, what isn't agreed on is the comment that came forth from the bloggers mouth. Some argue that "I love ya, brah," was exclaimed, while many others claim there is clear evidence that "Alligator shoe, draw," was said.

While I can't be certain of which holds the most validity, what I do know is that Pat Andera is a man amongst boys (Literally. I mean come on, he's 30 years old and he works at a kids camp), and I'm humbled to have him as my friend.

- Peace be da journey.

Adventures in train travel, part 2

If you haven't read part 1, yet, click here.

1:45pm - After boarding a new train that will take me from Chicago to Little Rock, I discover that while there are not assigned seats on the train, there are sections which are reserved for couples, and I lacked .5 of a couple. The train attendant moved me to the front of the train where I sat by a seasoned Amtrak veteran - we'll call her Lisa. She was eager to help this novice with some inside information to traveling the world of rails.

2:07 - 2:36 - Power nap, which was ended by an: "Excuse me, can I get by you to use the restroom," from Lisa.

2:44 - All this bathroom talk reminded me that a visit to the facilities was long overdue, and upon Lisa's return, I received directions to the bathroom.

3:28 - I finally wandered over to the observation car, which confirmed my thought that traveling by rail would be quite a relaxing experience. The observation car definitely does not lack in great views, making a journey through the snowy midwest quite beautiful. The seating is different in the observation deck as well in that there are seats that face directly toward the window, rather than forward like in a plane, AND, there are several restaurant style booths to sit in to read/write/people watch - with an electrical outlet at each seat!

4:31 - As I navigated the swaying train back and forth between the observation cart and my seat, an elderly man walking towards me heading the opposite direction says, “So we dance.” (Isn't it cool how elderly folks can say and do pretty much anything they want? At what age does this begin? I'm not wishing away my childhood [I'm told that it ends at 30 {which reminds me, I was recently told that a double parenthesis is faux pas, but it is legal to throw a bracketed sentence into a parenthesised sentence, however, can you put a bracketed sentence inside the bracketed sentence which is inside the parenthesis, or do you move to something like this squiggly line thing...}], but I'm excited to be a grandpa someday.).

4:47 - Caleb calls to tell me he’s leaving work to start his 2-week wedding/honeymoon vacation. As we're talking, I see two deer off in the distance scurrying across a snowy midwestern field. "Dude, you're getting married," I say somewhat in disbelief, as if he needed a reminder. I've had other friends get married, but I think because I still hadn't met his lady friend, it seemed a bit unreal...

5:41 - I wander to the food cart with the hopes of purchasing a delicious train style meal, only to find that the cheapest food item available was a hot dog for $3.95. I resort to the Austin Peanut Butter Crackers and a bag of Frosted Animal Crackers that I packed for the journey, because it’s a known fact that when you can pay a mere 50 cents for a quality roller-dog at the Baraboo BP Station, why pay 8 times as much for one that isn’t even a roller...?

6:04 - The linebacker from Remember the Titans is seated in the booth near me.

6:49 - You may not have heard, but word of my illustrious middle school basketball career made it to Baraboo, WI, inspiring the principal of St. Joseph Catholic Elementary School to recruit myself and a fellow Camp Grayer, Moty, to coach the girls 5th grade basketball team (which actually doesn't have any 5th graders - but we do have two 6th graders, three 4th graders, and a 3rd grader). I have aspirations of writing an article about the hilariousness and greatness of this experience, but for now, I'm going to watch Hoosiers for inspiration.

7:48 - I paused the movie as we take a pit stop in St. Louis.

10:17 - That Jimmy Chitwood is so hot right now.

11:41 - I finally decide to quit fighting my tiredness and I try to sleep in my seat. Although the seats recline pretty far and there is a foot rest at each seat, I've never been very successful at sleeping in a chair.

12:21am - After a brief snooze, I notice the two seats behind me were unoccupied, so I do my best to curl my 6'4'' frame into fetal position.

2:04 - Caleb calls to check the status of my journey. With an ETA of 3:00am, he's eager for me to arrive. I realize that we're stopped, and after stumbling around for a few minutes to find an Amtrak staffer, I learn that we've been stopped for nearly an hour, pushing our arrival back to closer to 4.

2:31 - I called Caleb to pass along the unfortunate news. I then return to fetal position.

3:48 - 10 minute warning from Amtrak staff. We're almost to Little Rock.

3:58 - Train pulls into Little Rock Train Station.

4:09am - Caleb and Hedger arrive with sleep goop in their eyes and smiles on their faces. While the train travel adventure of two hundred and one - zero ended nearly as quickly as it began, the real adventure of an extended weekend in Little Rock for the wedding of my good friend Caleb has just begun. While stories and pictures from the wedding weekend await publication from the editor of a blog, allow me to recommend, in the meantime, that you research your own personal train adventure. It'll be an adventure you won't soon forget.

Thanks for tuning in, friends!

Peace be da journey!

Topher

Adventures in train travel, part 1

I seem to fly a lot. Whether I’m flying to my folks place in Oklahoma, Grandma’s place in Florida, my folks place in Oklahoma, or some other random location, I’ve become so accustomed to flying that one might say that it has lost its luster (and that one person would be me). While road-tripping and I have a special thing going - a special thing that I’m not sure will ever lose its luster - I can only solo roadtrip so much (If you were to define my relationship status with roadtripping on facebook, it would say "In an Open Relationship") Back in July, when my buddy Caleb asked me to stand in his wedding in Little Rock, I knew I had a tough decision to make. Do I fly (again)? Do I solo roadtrip (again)? OR, do I embark on a journey the likes of which this young adventurer has never before experienced?

That’s right, friends. Amtrak it is.

I purchased my ticket back in October - a one-way ticket from Milwaukee to Little Rock - and have been anxiously awaiting the journey ever since. A phone call to the Amtrak office the night before I embarked helped to answer a few last minute questions, and as I went to bed that night, visions of the Polar Express (okay, I've never actually read/watched this story, but when the wife of a friend heard I was traveling by train she said, "Oh, like in Harry Potter!", which was met with a blank stare, because likewise, I haven't read/watched. Seemingly disgusted, she countered with, "Or, like in the Polar Express!" Not wanting to doubly disappoint/disgust, I enthusiastically nodded my head) were dancing in my head...

And now, in an effort to mimic my favorite article style of espn.com writer Bill Simmons, what follows is the play-by-play of my latest adventure...

6:00am - My Nokia 5600 cell phone alarm abruptly erupted (yeah, say that three times fast), followed by a swift poke at the snooze button.

6:10 - My Nokia 5600 cell phone alarm abruptly erupted (what if we morphed that into one word: abrupted) followed by a swift poke at the snooze button.

6:20 - My Nokia 5600 cell phone alarm abruptly erupted (are you still reading these lines or do you assume they are the same as before because they start the same?) followed by a swift poke at the snooze button.

6:30 - Okay, I'm up. After a nice long shower and two cups of coffee, the finishing touches were put on my packing, and I then loaded up an ice chest (or, for those of you in the north, a COOLER) with cokes (or, for those of you in the north, sodas) and snacks (or, for my brother, snack'ms).

Editors note: Go do an image search on google.com of "ice chest" and see which image comes up first. Seriously, go do it. I'll wait....

... And, boom goes the dynamite.

7:50am - A fellow Camp Grayer, Sean, kindly agreed to take me to the train station, which meant I didn’t have to deal with paying for parking (which seemed like a solid idea until I had 16 hours of solitude on a train to weigh the cost of $5/day parking vs. an extra round-trip from Camp to Milwaukee. At the end of the day, I'll call it a push.")

8:38 - Sean and I paid a quick visit to my old friends at the East Madison Panera Bread Co. Unhesitatingly, I ordered a cinnamon crunch bagel, which of course was bread sliced to my proper specifications (If you've never ordered a bagel "bread sliced" at Panera, do it now.).

10:23 - After being dropped at the Milwaukee train station, I strolled into the station feeling a bit out of place, even if my suitcase no doubt screamed, "The guy carrying me has traveled by trains for years..."

(this isn't actually my suitcase, but does have a solid resemblance.)

11:11 - The station in Milwaukee isn't a "hub," so once the train arrives, you simply load up and go. There isn't any security, no frisking, no bag checking, or even assigned seats. You just grab your stuff and go.

11:47 - As the conductor meandered through the train collecting tickets, he excitedly asked about my Pittsburgh Pirates hat. He told me that he has followed the Pirates extensively ever since the Pirates radio play-by-play man once traveled on his train. Two women behind me overheard our conversation and mentioned that they too were Pirates fans. This, of course, thrilled me - for a while now I've assumed I was alone in my Pirates fandom - and it also debunked a comment a man said later on my journey:

a man: "You play ball?"

Me: (Assuming he is making mention of my Aderhold Height) "Basketball?"

a man: "No, baseball, I noticed your Pirates hat..."

Me: (Surprisingly excited that he actually thought I was a professional athlete) "Ah, nope, just a fan."

a man: "Oh, well, there aren't many Pirates fans out there."

Me: (Hoping to end the conversation rather than get into a debate about how I was recently surrounded by 3 fellow Pirates fans...) "Yep"

12:29 - Arrive in Chicago, where an old college friend, Katie, is waiting for me with a Chicken Caesar Sandwich from Panera Bread Co. (Any day that involves Panera for both breakfast and lunch is a good day!) We reminisce about the good ole days (she once ate a spaghetti dinner with my family and flipped a fork-full of noodles onto her white shirt), devoured our sandwiches, made eye contact with a fellow train traveler that appeared two eye-contacts away from an all out conniption fit, discussed the improbability of my friend Caleb tying the knot, and then find where I'll be boarding for the next leg of my journey. The first portion of the journey was relatively quick and easy, but this next section of rail will test my adventure seeking mettle...

To be continued.... (soon!) (like in a day or two!) (Go Pirates!) (Go Thunder!)

Happy Two Hundred and One - Zero!

Greetings friends!

How the heck are ya?

I was reminded recently that it had been a long, long time since I gave the pages of a blog any love (I actually didn't need a reminder, as the pain I've felt neglecting these pages has been nearly unbearable). It's fitting that the last post I published way back in September was in regards to my newest adventure; grad school, as it has been mostly-to-completely responsible for the long layoff (which, if you're scoring at home, was longer than the recent sabbatical for summer camp - an unfortunate fact).

To update, grad school has been going very well, albeit more challenging than I could have ever imagined. (Who knew that a business degree wouldn't properly prepare me for the rigors of a Masters in Theology?) But, I've been able to keep my head afloat, and survived to live another semester, which doesn't start until the end of this month. Yes friends, that gives us nearly 4 weeks to catch up and to tell a few stories.

I'll be embarking tomorrow morning on an odyssey of epic proportions - a 16-hour train ride from Milwaukee to Little Rock to take in the festivities of the Bloyd - Johnson wedding. Mr. Bloyd and I met back in college at Oklahoma State, and haven't agreed on an OSU coaching hire since.

I'm excited to have 16-hours of people watching, blog writing time, reading, and more people watching, but mostly, I'm excited to see my friends in Arkansas. It's been much too long since I've been in the company of my close friends from college.

A 16-hour train ride? Yeah, look for a Bill Simmonsesque time table update in the coming days for an intense and exact play-by-play story chronicling this adventure.

I hope you and your family had a lovely yule-tide Christmas, and that your New Year brings nothing but fun adventures. Oh, and the staff at a blog are starting an underground movement... A discussion was hatched the other day: Is it 'Two thousand and ten' or do we call it 'Twenty-ten'? Nay... I say neither. The year is: Two hundred and one - zero.

Thanks for tuning in, friends.

Check back soon!

Peace be da journey!

Topher