Hershey Park Happy
. Ok, Mosco. You asked....
Saturday at noon, the Duke and I went bowling. An inauspicious beginning, perhaps, to a wild weekend of rollercoasters, water-rides, and high energy rock 'n' roll, but we enjoyed it all the same. The Duke is a much better bowler than I am, and he whipped me good in two of our four games. The other two games stayed competitive and I won them both narrowly. My high for the day was 160, which is within about 15% of my all-time high, so I was satisfied.
At two o'clock, we met Lima Beanz over at The Duke's apartment. [Note: for those keeping track, Lima Beanz was previously referred to as Jr. Varsity.] From there, we piled into the Saturn and picked up Tucker, before setting off for Hershey, Pa. The ride was pleasant, but uneventful. Except, of course, for the very minor car accident we got into mere minutes after we had left Tucker's house. This was amusing, to say the least, as something very similar happened to me on a previous road trip several years ago. On that occasion, myself, Ovid, Lima Beanz, Mosco, and the Pizza Messiah, were traveling to The World's Only Ass-Kicking Machine
in Wirtz, Virginia. I was driving, and the Pizza Messiah asked what time it was. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard, answered, and BOOM! It was a minor fender-bender, but it cost me a bundle. Anyway, this time around, the Duke was driving, it didn't even rise to the level of fender-bender, and he sped off without stopping.
We stayed at a Holiday Inn Express, which was a bit of a disappointment, as I was led to believe by the advertisements that it would make me a genius. Perhaps it doesn't work if you're already a genius, but it didn't make Lima Beanz any smarter either. There used to be a law against false advertising.
We hit Hershey Park Saturday night and concentrated on dry-rides. We hit several rollercoasters, which I love, and had a blast. The Duke lost his cell phone on the "Wild Cat", which is a great rickety wooden job, and made literally no effort to recover it. We consoled him that he would still be able to use the land-line in his apartment, the joke being that there is no land-line in his apartment.
We retired to the hotel after the Park closed to get some serious drink on. Trouble, who was unable to start the trip with us do to a prior engagement with his wedding band, met us at the hotel sometime after midnight. We played Spades and Asshole, and got to sleep well past three.
I can't sleep away from home. At least, I can't sleep late. So, I was up a good two hours before anyone else, and, after walking to the McDonald's across the street for some breakfast, watched Tim Russert disembowel Paul O'Neill on "Meet the Press". After I awakened Lima Beanz at 11am, I called my mother to talk about it. The guys got no end of amusement from the fact that, yes, I called my mother while on vacation to talk about "Meet the Press". It's a sickness, I suppose.
Sunday was spent almost entirely at the Park. We polished off the remaining rollercoasters, rerode a couple of choice rides now that Trouble was with us, and hit the water rides in the early evening. We blew about two hours waiting in line patiently for the RollerSoaker to break down, which it obligingly did when the Duke and I were second in line. They guys went to the zoo while I played SkeeBall and classic arcade games like Berserk and DigDug. I hate zoos. I love SkeeBall. And DigDug sends me into paroxysms of ecstasy.
Lima Beanz didn't want to go on water rides, but did anyway. Presumably, the joy of complaining more than compensated for the discomfort of being wet. This was a bit of a shock, as Tucker is the member of the Crew most closely associated with complaining.
Monday morning we slept in, had a dreadful lunch at some dreadful restaurant-type place. [You ordered your food before you were seated, which might not be such an awful experience if you don't desperately need to use the bathroom.] Monday was mostly a relaxing day in preparation for the grand finale, The Who.
I simply can't tell you how amazing this concert was. We were all blown away. The Duke singing (horribly) right next to me through the whole show wasn't even enough to put a damper on the evening. Fortunately, they dispensed with the whole brass section/percussionist crap and presented a trimmed-down rock show. Daltrey's voice was in fine form, Townshend was excellent and highly energized, some dude named Palladino was a competent replacement for John Entwistle (who was sorely missed), Zak "Son of Ringo" Starkey was superb on drums, Simon Townshend filled out the rhythm guitar parts, and Who mainstay John "Rabbitt" Bundrick was indispensable on the keyboards. They played everything you wanted to hear (well, almost: no "The Seeker", and no "Long Live Rock", which would have been nice), and threw in one or two surprises. Pete's antagonistic brand of humor was in fine form. His first words, before so much as a note had been played, were "Fuck off, the lot of you!" Later, he asked "Is it all right if I masturbate? It's what I do, anyway," as he ran his hands along the neck of his guitar. Another classic was "I've seen American television, and you people are mad! You eat worms!" He also commented on how lovely the Hershey area is, which is true. "It's got a great family atmosphere, so we've come to fuck it up!"
A great, great, great, extended weekend.