AUBREEVISION - Observations from the far side of the dial

Back on Canadian soil after nearly a week in America, kicked off by a southern New Hampshire Thansgiving with Eric and his folks. Our phenomenal meal marked the end of a longstanding family feud -- for years, Eric's mother staunchly refused to make chocolate pie (Eric's favourite) for Thanksgiving, maintaining that since the pilgrims didn't have chocolate pie, neither should he (though as Eric points out, there was no equivalent restruction on pecan pie, which, as it happens, is her favourite). This year, however, something brought about a change of heart -- we don't really know what, but the main thing is that delicious chocolate pie was had by all. Thanksgiving '05 also marked the introduction of the pomegranate martini -- as seen on Oprah, apparently, though I won't hold that against it. Pomegranalicious!

Stil strung out on tryptophan, Carol and I decided to brave Black Friday -- she usually doesn't, but felt that I needed to experience this exclusively American phenomenon. As we navigated the streets at 4:30 a.m., we couldn't help but appreciate the total absurdity of our actions, and of North American culture and values in general -- as Carol pointed out, people who wouldn't dream of getting up at 4 a.m. for say, work, will happily do so for the privilege of lining up outside Wal-Mart in the freezing cold, sustained by visions of discount laptops. I have to say, though, that I was almost disappointed when Black Friday, at least in Plaistow, NH, barely qualified as grey. No thronging hordes, no fist fights, no riots -- just 50 patient, polite shoppers queuing at Kohl's. After all I'd heard of the Black Friday legend, I was counting on bringing many a spine-chilling tale back to Canada. Humph.

But at least I scored a few bargains, including the 2006 Bad Cat Page-a-Day Calendar as a Christmas gift for my sister. Sample image:



My adventures in America continued on Friday afternoon, when Eric and I joined six of his friends -- two couples and two younger brothers of one in our ranks -- and flew to Kansas City -- the "city of fountains," apparently -- to catch a Chiefs/Patriots game. Apparently, it's pretty much impossible to wrangle tickets to see the New England Patriots actually play in New England, so Eric and company make a point of attending an away game every year. This time round they decided on KC, and kindly agreed to include me despite my inherent Canadian-ness.

Our first discovery was that nobody lives in Kansas City, at least on the weekends -- we saw nary a living soul in the streets or in our hotel, and soon learned there was no point in checking for traffic when crossing the street. We discovered that shops and restaurants, at least in the financial district, close on Saturday and Sunday. We began to suspect that the city was inhabited by zombies, who would rise in the night and feast on our pure Northern blood (do zombies feast on blood? Whatever). At the very least it gives us a hep, cryptic new line to pull out in any dull situation/event/location: "This is so KC."

On Saturday several in our group went out for a run, and still saw no sign of human life, though we did get to take in some sights. Here, Yolanda and I impose ourselves on a perfectly good view (photo by Chris):



Later in the morning we explored the city in more depth and discovered two things -- the wonders of Kansas City barbecue, and the whereabouts of the living. The first resulted from a trip to Arthur Bryant's. apparently a famed Midwestern institution. Like the soup nazi of Seinfeldian fame, the Arthur Bryant's staff could be aptly described as meat nazis -- surly, militant and generally unpleasant. The food was a whole other story -- the high point being Eric's "meat tray," which was literally two piles of sliced pork and beef dumped directly on an orange cafeteria tray. My "short end sandwich" consisted of a half rack of ribs dumped on top of two pieces of Wonder Bread. Still, everyone -- even non-meathounds like myself -- agreed that the grub lived up to its stellar reputation. Here we are chowing down:


(photo by Yolanda)

I suspect the Kansas City Vegetarian is an endangered species.

Later in the day we drove out to the 'burbs for tailgating supplies and discovered what happened to the people of Kansas City -- every last one of them was swallowed up by Wal-Mart. We found ourselves in row upon row of bustling strip malls, sprawling beyond the horizon in a dizzying display of American consumerism. While we came seeking charcoal and meat, the strip mall city gave us an unexpected gift -- the gift of frozen custard. This hitherto-unknown-to-us treat proved a trip highlight.



Chris sucks back a custard-shake -- photo by Yolanda

In the evening we met up with a former roommate of mine who now, oddly enough, lives in Missouri (I guess it's not that odd since that's where the man she married lives, but it sounds fairly random for someone who grew up in Ontario). We would have moved mountains to see each other -- I mean, what were the chances that two Ottawa chicks would find themselves in, of all places, Missouri at the same time? We had a great visit and catch-up and I'm glad to see that she's finding happiness south of the border.

Sunday was the focal point of our trip -- game day. We kicked things off with several hours of parking lot tailgating. Here, let me show you:


(photo by Yolanda)

That's Eric and Julie rehearsing their Chiefs trash-talk routine ("So, how many Super Bowls have you won?" )


(Yolaphoto)

Still recovering from an unfortunate Black Friday shopping cart assault, Aaron dubs Spencer's chicken finger-lickin' good


(Yolanda shot)

Clustered by our small but mighty barbie (note the complete absence of anyone else in the parking lot at this point)

The rest of the gang drank beer (and Coke, in the case of our underager), but I opted for my usual fruity coolers and feel compelled to put in a plug for the new grape-flavoured Smirnoff Ice. Yum!

When we got into the stadium, we found ourselves in the nosebleeds of the nosebleeds -- still, the view wasn't bad and the weather more-or-less forgiving (aside from the occasional drizzle, lightning flash and tornado warning). The less good part? The Pats lost. Eric's "sad face" confirms it:



Here we are after the game, smiling through the pain:


(thanks, Yolanda)

I told Eric I was fully expecting a Jumbotron proposal, and that I might never recover from the disappoinment.

We flew back to NH on Monday, and I flew back to Ottawa on Tuesday. There was lots of turbulence, which always sends me into low-grade panic -- especially in an 18-seat Cracker Jack-box-prize of a plane. But I survived completely intact, and have to thank my friend Darin for gamely responding to my last-minute "It's raining and cold and I'm tired and can't face the bus" campaign for a lift home from the airport. Also special thanks to my roommate cricker81 for going above and beyond the call of cat-minding duty while I was away. I would never ask my roommates to do more than throw some food and water in the kitties' direction occasionally -- but cricker actually cleaned out an overflowing litterbox of her own volition. Who does that!? Thanks, cricker.

And oh yes, I left my winter coat in Kansas City. It was so warm all weekend -- like stepping back in time to an Ottawa September -- that I didn't even use it and forgot it in the hotel closet. The KC Downtown Marriott was incredibly helpful and as far as I know it was shipped out to me on Friday. In the meantime, sign me unfashionable and shivering in Ottawa --

aubree