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          In a word, ‘Yes’.

          “Jeezz, Don! Is that any way to start a blog post?”

          I guess it is, I certainly got your attention, didn’t I?

          But, more on that later.

          Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we find Paula and Don readying their covered wagon for the arduous journey back East to visit friends and loved ones for the summer. In reality we did start from the ranch, or farm, as it were, because this leg began at TomBoy Farm in Durango, Colorado, home to CubScout and Ling-Ling the cats, Chloe the goat, and 13 chickens who have received various and sundry names over the course of the past few years. There is Squishy, who as a young chick, would be incessantly underfoot and we all know what happens to little chicks that insist on behaving that way.

          Yup.

          Squish!

          But not so squished as to have a very truncated life.

          Just enough squish as to require time spent inside the house and be lovingly tended to by Lorelyn and the “Chicken Whisperer”, Travis.

          The story obviously has a happy ending because Squishy is still pecking around the yard, oblivious to her almost fateful genesis.

          Then, there is Tiny Hiny, the root of today’s Post Title and the latest medical miracle being sustained at TomBoy Farm. It seems that Tiny has an affliction known as a ‘Prolapsed Vent’, in short, it’s a ‘Chicken Hemorrhoid’.

          I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure why they ALL don’t have this issue, with pushing out those Large, Extra-Large, and Jumbo elliptical Morsels of Breakfast Delights that we simply call ‘eggs’.

          Not just any eggs mind you, these are “Farm-Fresh, Free-Range, No Antibiotics, as close to Heaven, no Rooster around, Happy Chicken Eggs” as you can get.

                   So, I will spare you the graphic details of the proper care and treatment of this condition, but I almost had to deal with Tiny and her problem on my own.

          Here is the back-story.

          Lorelyn and Travis asked us if we could mind the farm for them if they went to California to visit with Travis’s family. We readily agreed and decided that we would get to Durango a few days early in order to receive our “Farm -Sitters Certification” before they vamoosed to the West. In the meantime, Paula’s sister-in-law, Janet, took a turn for the worst in her battle with MDS, and Paula flew to Vermont to help out her sister, Barbara.

          This left me all alone with the critters, not the least of which was Tiny. In short, the First Aid that Travis imbued upon Tiny was sufficient enough to have them leave with a clear conscience, but I still need to keep an eye on her. She had no further issues, much to my obvious delight.

          Luckily, all of my charges responded nicely to the “Shake the Treats Bag” trick , which made round-up time fairly easy. Everyone gets tucked into their respective beds for the night, safe and sound so no Big Nasties can get to them.

          It is a Critter-Eat-Critter world out here in the Wild West, a definite fact of life, but I was going to do my darndest to make sure that nobody “bought the farm” on my watch!

          The day after Lorelyn and Travis left for California was, in fact, a tad lonely. Feeling a bit sorry for myself and expressing that emotion to Paula when we spoke on the phone, made me realize that I definitely had the easier of our two situations. Helping her sister deal with the last days of Janet was a place that none of us would want to be.

          My dose of reality sunk in and I realized that I had the far better scenario and I quickly started to just make the most of several days of talking only to my charges.

          They did talk back.

          It’s amazing how fluent one can become in Chickenese, Goatalk, and Meowspeak with just a few days of practice! After six days I was almost as fluent as Travis and Lorleyn are, but I’m sure that all of my wards were happy to see ‘Mom and Dad’ when they returned home the Sixth Day.

           Two and a half weeks later, and after Janet’s ‘Celebration of Life’, Paula returned to Colorado. Pausing for a brief respite of a few days so Paula could relax a bit, we started our trip back East, with our first destination being Nashville, Tennessee, the home of The Grand Ole Opry and Joey Oldock, one of my most beloved (not just by me!)former employees at the Chatterbox.

          It’s Interstate 40 practically the entire way, staying at the rest areas in various states. We have arrived at what we believe is the best schedule for driving.

          I start out in the morning because that’s when I’m at my best.

          I drive for a few hours and then Paula takes over ‘til lunchtime.

          Then I resume for the early afternoon until I start to nod off, and then Paula takes over for the mid-afternoon shift which leaves me snoozing in the co-pilots seat (nice co-pilot, huh) after which I switch back to the pilot’s seat and finish out our travel day, usually around 4 or 5 PM. We have been listening to books-on-tape(?) (What a misnomer!), so far we’ve heard, Unbroken, Into Thin Air, and we are currently a few chapters into Swiss Family Robinson.

          Last night was spent at a rest area in Arkansas, which is the first one we’ve encountered where they separate the cars, trailers, and motorhomes from the trucks. Usually, we are mixed in with the trucks which have  tendency to leave their motors running which makes for a noisy night.

          Last night was as calm as can be. 😊

          Today we arrive in Nashville, just in time for me to sign my recording contract.

          I’ll keep you posted.

As with most prominent geological features in this part of the West, Chimney Rock is of considerable significance to both the present Native Americans and the Anasazi, or Ancestral Puebloans.

          We’ve driven past it several times over the years. It’s on the way to Pagosa Springs and eventually east to the Denver Road or towards Santa Fe, New Mexico, and points south.

          As you can see from the photo, it’s almost impossible to miss.

          Apparently the Old Ones thought so too. There is ample evidence of habitations up there. Pueblo’s, kiva’s, storage rooms, and the like, abound both near the summit and at its base (which is still a long trek from the valley floor.)

          Since there isn’t anyone around from approximately a thousand years ago, we have to rely on current studies of these edifices and some practical knowledge of living back then to give us an idea of how this aerie was probably used. At 7600 feet of elevation, the winter snows make it improbable that it was inhabited year-round. More likely it was used primarily as a ceremonial site. One which, if you observe the vast pueblo that was built here, had great importance to them.

          There is one hugely significant detail about Chimney Rock that distinguishes it from any other place in the world.

          It is an archaeo-astronomical site.

          So is Stone Henge and the others like it around the world.

          But, all of those were constructed by man, to help him chart, understand, and predict events like solstices and equinoxes.

          This site was discovered by The Old Ones. It was constructed by Nature!

          It just so happens that every 18.6 years or so (the length of a full lunar cycle) the moon “stands still” in between the spires of Chimney Rock and its neighbor Companion Rock.

          It’s called by a very official, informative, and obvious name, an MLS or a “Major Lunar Standstill”

          I don’t know about you, but I have trouble remembering what happened 18.6 days ago, never mind 18.6 years ago! It kind of illustrates how the ancient cultures devoted copious amounts of time, and resources, to the art of observing the events unfolding above them. The first tree ring dating’s of construction of this site are from 1076, which was a MLS year, and a second construction phase was dated to 1093/1094, the next MLS!

Coincidence?

Maybe.

          As you may imagine, this is the place to be every 18.6 years!

          The next MLS is scheduled to begin……..

          NOW!

          In 2021!

          The National Forest Service already has a list of wanna-be-participants. These are ranked in order of preference (importance?) in which, thankfully, the local Native Americans supersede all others. These include the Utes, Navajos, Hopi’s, and other pueblo tribes that can trace their ancestry back to The Old Ones and this region. This issue is compounded by the relatively small area at the top and the extremely small knife-edge trail (see photo) that one must traverse in order to get here. Compounding this issue is the Media, who want, or feel, the need (?) to be there with cameras and their on-air personalities.

          We shall see.

          In any event, the view from up there is nothing short of magnificent, but then, you are gazing down at some of America’s most beautiful landscapes in Colorful Colorado.

           They live up to their moniker nicely!

Well, something DID come up that is writable about!

          Yesterday Lorelyn and I were in downtown Durango picking up some books from Maria’s Bookshop, one of the finest booksellers on the planet. When we were done she called Adam, one of her associates from her old law firm and asked him if he’d like to join us at the speakeasy.

          That is correct.

          An actual, real life, concealed door in the bookcase, old time, done correctly, speakeasy.

          The Bookcase and Barber.

The exterior looks like any barber shop that you would go to, complete with the spinning barber pole.  You can go in and get a haircut, or…

          If you know the password…..

          You get to go behind the swinging bookcase and enter a dimly lit, very comfortable old bar.

          No one can see inside from the street, there are reflective glass windows that help illuminate the interior. People stroll by outside not even giving this place a second thought.

          Unless….

          Someone has “tipped” you off on it and you’ve gone on their Facebook page and procured the current password.

          Adam happens to be one of their best customers, so his password, “my money is green“, got us in with no problem. In  fact, we arrived before they opened, but they let us in so we could wait inside comfortably. It not what you know… It’s who you know!

          It’s totally cool, and about as authentic as it can be in the 21^st Century. Not that I would know what an authentic speakeasy was like, I don’t even drink!

          Except yesterday.

          Story time!

          Back in the day, like 47 years ago, I was the closing manager on Monday nights at my Dad’s restaurant, The Cozy Tavern. After we closed at 11 PM, we would all go up to Pompton Plains and go to The Rum Seller, a bar that stayed open much later. All of the staff from other restaurants in the surrounding area would come here after their respective bars, etc. had closed. The only thing that I liked to drink back then was the old standby, a Whiskey Sour, because it was kind of sweet, depending on how much sugar one put into it.

          Sue, one of my co-workers, who was married to Greg, another co-worker, who was the son of Hank, our head bartender, whose girl friend was Oona, our head waitress, who was related to another great restaurant in Clifton called All in the Family, suggested that I may like a Jack Rose.

          A Jack Rose is one of those cocktails that only your grandparents knew about. It consists of Applejack, lemon juice, grenadine, and an egg white for the foam on top.

          Well, it turned into my favorite drink and I’d have one a week on Monday nights with the crew.

          Eons later I would reminisce and long for a good Jack Rose, but alas, nobody makes them anymore. At least not correctly. I think it’s even hard to get a good Whiskey Sour! I decided to take accounts into my own hands and scour the earth for the correct ingredients and make one myself.

          Voila! It all came together nicely and during a phone conversation, I recounted my experience to Lorelyn, who said that she would check out a place in Durango that may be old timey enough to have one.

          Sure enough, there on their drink menu, was the Steinbeck. (All of their signature drinks are named after that era’s authors.) It was their version of it, using lime juice instead of lemon, but it was REALLY good, and I enjoyed both the company and the libation.

          Maybe in another 47 years I’ll try a different cocktail.

For those of you clamoring for more Tales of Adventure,

          Here they are…..

          But….. not yet!

          We are safely ensconced in our Durango Parking Site for the next few weeks before we begin the actual Eastward Summer Migration.

          In reality, I’m here and Paula was called back to Vermont where her sister-in-law, Janet, is on Hospice. We left Texas last week and found out that Paula was needed in Vermont while we were in route. We cut short our planned itinerary and arrived in Durango a day ahead of schedule. She left here the next day bound for Newark.

          In the meantime, I am endeavoring to keep busy with tasks large and small, both on the motorhome and helping out Lorelyn and Travis around TomBoy Farm.

          I replaced the “House” water pump which supplies the water for the sinks, showers, etc. in the motorhome. The previous one was making a bit too much noise and rather that have it fizz out somewhere inconvenient, I elected to replace it now and keep the old on as a back-up if ever needed.  I also replaced the big 24”x12” wooden “pads” that our hydraulic jacks rest on when we are parked. These puppies come in handy when the ground may not be quite firm enough to support our 26,000 pounds or when we park in a parking lot or driveway in the summer and the asphalt is hot. It is considered bad manners to leave big “dinner plate” sized divots in your hosts driveway!

          I’ve included two photos of what a typical “End-of-Day-Windshield” looks like. Since Spring has sprung and the bugs abound, unfortunately our view forward rapidly evolves into a daily viewing that only a masochistic entomologist could enjoy.

          So far, the only job that I’ve been asked to do is put a coat of wood preservative on Lorelyn and Travis’s new garage doors that are on their yet to be finished Garage/Workshop/Upstairs Apartment building that will be an awesome addition to TomBoy Farm.

          Thanks for checking in, and as soon as there is something that I consider “Writeable” I will get it out to you!

Did you ever wonder why it’s called Mount Rushmore?

          I did.

          Why is a colossal monument to four of our esteemed Presidents named after someone we don’t know?

          The answer is easy my friends, it was named Mount Rushmore way before Gutzon Borglum and his elite team of sculptor-bots started their transformations back in 1927.

          More on that later.

          After our three-day stay at Camp Winnebago, where we had stuff fixed that-we-hadn’t-planned-on-but-were-glad-it-broke-on-our-way-there, (like our water heater), we drove northward for a few hours.

           This leg of our Great Eastern Migration of 2021 was commenced last Friday at 3:30 PM when Matt, our Winnebago Project Manager, declared the Patient fit and able to leave Winnebago General with no reservations. That was good news because as of Friday morning, Matt was only about 50/50 on whether or not the repairs would be done on time, with the possible return to the hospital on Monday hanging in the balance.

          With our first destination of Vadnais Heights, Minnesota set into Miss GPS, we ventured north to the Minneapolis-St. Paul region. Vadnais Heights is the home of one of Paula’s’ best friends from High School. Claire, and her husband Craig, met us warmly in front of their home and had a very nice dinner waiting for us. Grilled Brats, an awesome homemade warm potato dish, the likes I’ve never had before, and an incredibly fresh fruit salad were the perfect meal for us.

          Claire and Paula  share the same hobby-craft of quilting.

          Claire is one of those ladies that take it to the extreme and produce award -winning quilts that will become rare collectors’ pieces in the future, so tour of Claire’s Quilt Room Extraordinaire was certainly on the must do list.

          It did not disappoint.

          After a few hours we needed to return to Walmart of Vadnais Heights. Even though Claire and Craig wanted us to stay, we were uncomfortable with leaving the motorhome unattended  all night long and there was no way it was going to fit in their driveway, so off we went to prepare for the next days Westward Push into unknown territory.

          Our first stop was in Murdo, South Dakota, the home of the Pioneer Auto Museum, founded in the Great Year of 1954! (Paula and I were both founded in that year also!)

          The Pioneer Auto Museum was to be our home for the next two days as we explored the eastern part of the Black Hills region of South Dakota. The museum is a member of the Harvest Hosts group, the mostly farms and wineries that make a few spots available for overnight RV travelers on their property. As you can see, it is not exclusively for farms, et al.

          The Museum was as about an eclectic assemblage of Americana collectibles as I’ve ever encountered. As the name implies, cars are the number one attraction, and it does not disappoint on that count. In fact, it doesn’t disappoint on any count except they may want to go around with a dust mop every now and then, but then, maybe that’s part of the earthy vibes this place oozes. It’s got that hokey-hometown- local-attraction that seems available only in a far-flung western town like Murdo.

           It was a pleasure to be there and support this still-in-the-family-business!

          While we were there, we drove the Lifeboat sixty miles to the west and entered Badlands National Park. Of course, we left our Get Into Any National Park Forever Card in the motorhome, so we had to pay again to gain entrance, but it was worth it!

          This place is unworldly with all of its geologic formations, colors, and terrain. It was Sunday and we practically had the place to ourselves. Getting there early certainly helped as we could see more folks arriving as the day progressed. The day was nice enough, better than rain, but we wished for a tad more sun, mainly for photos sake.        But were sallied on, making the best of it!

          Again, wondering how this place got its name, we found out that not just one, but two former residents of these here parts, in their own languages, named it Badlands!

          The Lakota people were the first to call this place “mako sica” or “land bad” and the French-Canadian fur trappers that made their way through the area called it “les mauvaises terres pour traverser” or “bad lands to travel through”.

          So, who are we to argue with such a cool name!

          As usual, every turn you make provides a scene prettier than the one before it and after a while you enter sensory-overload and yield to the overdose with pleasure.

          I promise you that the following photos do not do it justice!

          When we were finished in Badlands, we drove into the town of Wall, home of the absolutely World-Famous Wall Drug Store. This place needs to be experienced to be believed, but since we were there and you were not, I will endeavor to do it justice.

          The backstory,

          In 1931, a young lad named Ted Hulstead, wanted to find drug store in a little town to buy and run for his business. He located Wall, population 231, and bought the drugstore. Business was a little slow so his wife Mary decided that they should offer free ice water to the parched travelers going to and from Mount Rushmore.

          As they say, the rest is history!

          And…. You can still get free Ice water today!

          You can also get Coffee for a nickel, high quality Western Boots, beautiful Native American jewelry, original Western artwork, classic books based on local legends, stories, and history, Incredible homemade donuts, full menu lunch and dinner, an 80 foot brontosaurus, and all of the tchotchke’s that you would expect at a tourist destination.

          Oh, and by the way, you can still get your Rx filled because the current owner and grandson of Ted is also a Registered Pharmacist as was his father and of course, grandfather.

          To say the place was jammed when we were there would be an understatement.

          We left Wall and went back to Murdo, spent the night and the next morning retraced our steps from the previous day, this time with Biggie (with Lifeboat attached) and travelled westward on Interstate 90 towards Rapid City, South Dakota, and the heart of the Black Hills Region.

          Lots to see in this area, so we made our home at another Harvest Hosts venue, the Sick ‘n Twisted Brewery, which is also the home of Naughti Wineries, makers of Naked Wines.

          No. I am not making this up, and since this is a ‘Family Post Site’, I will spare you some of the play-on-words names of the aforementioned wines.

          (But you can look them up! 😊 )

          Our first venture was to Mount Rushmore National Monument, which was alluded to in the beginning of this post.

          I’ve always looked at photos of Mt. Rushmore, which arguably is the most famous and recognized  work of art of this type in the world, and thought, “It’s ok, no big deal”.

          You go, look up, say to yourself, “Been there, done that, let’s go.”

          Yikes! Was I ever wrong!

          This place almost defies description in its grandeur and sense of permanence.

          Which I believe is exactly what Mr. Borglum had in mind when he was approached to get his opinion of a project that was proposed for a different part of the area. A South Dakota historian, Doane Robinson, had an idea to carve the likenesses of famous western personalities (including Crazy Horse, the Sioux Chief) onto rock spires, called The Needles. He convinced Senator Peter Norbeck to sponsor it and there it got its footing. When they approached Mr. Borglum, they were informed that the Needles were not appropriate for carving out what they had in mind. Way too soft and crumbly for any permanence. Mr. Borglum suggested the nearby granite mountain, Mt. Rushmore and pitched his idea for the Presidents. It’s obvious by now how this panned out and the nation took to it by storm, with the unveiling of each President (as it was finished) being a media event.

          The idea was conceived in 1925, started in 1927, and finished in 1941.

          As with anything of these proportions, both in size and meaning, the process was rife with it’s share of controversy. The Lakota Sioux were not happy because this area is considered sacred and to add insult to injury, it was originally given to the Lakota in a treaty but was then taken back by the Government. (As an aside, there is a nearby mountain being transformed into the likeness of Crazy Horse astride his galloping horse currently under construction.) Funding was also an issue, the original carvings were to be completed showing the figures from the waist up, but as you can see, that never materialized.

          The presentation to the public of this Monument is left to the care and interpretation of the National Park Service and they do a fine job on all levels explaining this whole process from the beginning to present day. While we were there, construction on a new entrance and Grand Gallery that showcases the Monument was just being finished. All granite (nicely tying it all together), each State and Territory is represented along the facades of the walkway, until you reach the expansive viewing overlook that is almost as impressive as the view before it.

          The visit was well worth it, and it comes highly recommended by the P and D Wandering Touring Company of which we are the Founding Members 😊

          After leaving Mount Rushmore, we headed for Custer State Park and it sixty-mile nature/scenic drive through the heart of the Black Hills. As with the Badlands, the weather could have been a little sunnier, but so far we haven’t been able to control that! In fact, we had a fair number of flurries that afternoon, which succeeded in both freezing Paula and making the photos of far-off mountains appear fuzzy.

          Oh well….

          In any event, the trip was a very enjoyable trek through the Black Hills. The road meandered in and around the peaks and valleys of the region, showcasing the best. The spires of the Needles were dramatic, and one could see why they were the first choice of Mr. Robinson for his sculpture idea. The wildlife here is abundant, with a herd of Bison (not really Buffalo, but that’s a conversation for another day) and Pronghorn, a kind of, but not really, ‘antelope’ (we can have that discussion at the same time as the Buffalo one).

          I can feel a Western Taxonomy post forming in my brain, I will warn you if it ever breaks out.

          We were going to spend an extra day in the region which would have been totally worth it had the weather been a little more cooperative. There were many more scenic drives available but viewing these wonders in questionable conditions led us to cut our stay short by a day, and head back to Texas.

          Yup, plans changed in the short time from when we planned this Western Excursion until now. Paula has a chance to visit with some relatives that she hasn’t seen in over twenty years and guess where they are travelling to?

          Right again! Texas!

           Just a short hop from our Home Base.

          So, off we went.

           But on the way down we decided to take as many back roads as possible. We first headed to the Lakota Tribe Reservation, in southern South Dakota, also known as Pine Ridge. Our ultimate destination was Wounded Knee, the site of the 1890 massacre. The story is as bad as the word alludes to and I am not going to go into the details here. Suffice it to say that it epitomizes the way the Native Americans were thought of and sometimes treated at that time in our history. I do recommend that you just look it up and/or read/watch “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee” a 1970 book and a 2007 HBO Award-Winning adaptation of said.

          Taking the back roads through South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, and Oklahoma exemplifies how vast our nation’s heartland is. If you are looking for an exciting, look all around you, sort of journey, Do Not take the back roads!

          If you are looking for a quiet, no stress, same rural farmland scenery for endless days kind of trip, then the back roads are exactly what you are looking for! There was a stretch in Nebraska, as we headed south, that there was no one in front of me or behind me (as far as I could see, which was approximately 2 to 3 miles each way) where we drove for 76 miles with no one there !

          I know because I kept track!

          The states out here have an interesting way of dealing with winter weather on the major roads.

          They just close them.

          There are gates on the Interstates, and signs, that just shut it down! Can you imagine just shutting Route 80 in North Jersey down for any length of time? Anarchy would ensue and effigies of Trenton officials would be duly dealt with!

          Fortunately, we did not need to deal with those scenarios!

          We are almost back in Texas as I write this. We will be able to use our new “pad” that we had poured at Danny and Kaitie’s house for the Motorhome to sit on. Much better all around for everything from stability to helping keep it all clean. We had it poured just before we left and did not expect to see it again until September, but here we are!

          We will be finishing the Western Leg (Colorado, etc.) after the brief hiatus back in Texas.

          Stay Tuned!

Mason City, Iowa.

          What could possibly be here?

          As we’ve found out so many times in our relatively short tenure in this Full-Time Motor Home Traveling lifestyle, you’d better look around because something ALWAYS becomes significant!

          Well, the nickname of Mason City is the River City, as is in,

“Well, Ya got trouble, my friend,

Right here in River City, trouble with a capital “T”

And that rhymes with “P”  and that stands for pool!

          You guessed it, Meredith Willson was born and raised “Right here in River City” and wrote the Music Man with his hometown in mind. He started his thinking process in 1948 and shopped it around producers in New York, with varying amounts of success, until (after tweaking it a bit)  it hit Broadway in 1957 garnering 5 Tony Awards including Best Musical. Later, in 1962, the premier of the Warner Brothers Musical was held at the theater here in Mason City.

          As if that were not enough, Mason City boasts one of the best collections of Frank Llyod Wright’s Prairie School Architecture in the world. Including the only hotel, The Park Inn, designed by Frank left standing. A short walk around town, especially in the Rock Grove section, yields many examples of his work. These are all the homes of some very lucky folks!

          I have some photos of the hotel and homes attached, but unfortunately, the “76 Trombones leading the Big Parade” were not available for photo’s when we were there!

          So, our traveling lesson for this week ends here.

           But who would have guessed ….

          Little ’ole Mason City, Iowa …..

          Buddy Holly, Frank Lloyd Wright, and The Music Man, all here for your traveling pleasure!

          It doesn’t get any better than this!

People still come, even after 62 years have passed.

          When we were there, a middle-aged couple helped an older man, probably one of their fathers, walk over to the roadside tribute. He was too frail to be able to walk the quarter mile into the cornfield to visit the actual crash site.

          He looked sad.

          I’m sure that he was a fan, and this was the only way that he could pay his respects to someone who meant something to him.

          But contrary to the current catchphrase coined by one of the best lyricists in the modern rock era, Don McClean in his 1971 song, American Pie, “The day the music died”, the music of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. Richardson (The Big Bopper) still lives on and is as important today as it was then.

          I know, because we built a business around it.

          The only other artist from that era that had as much influence was of course, The King, Elvis Presley. Mind you, this in no way diminishes any of the work or other artists from that era, but it seems that these two just rise to the top.

          I don’t know of any other era that sparked any kind of themed restaurants. As fun as the 60’s, 70’s, 80’s and 90’s were, the anchor seems to be the 50’s and I’ll let it go at that.

          So here I find myself the northwest corner of Iowa, having the motorhome worked on in a little town called Forest City.

          I know the story; it was a cold snowy night in the winter of 1959. The concert ended and the buses that carried the headliners and musicians from some god-forsaken city to the next night after night, were drafty and had no heat. Buddy Holly got fed up with this and chartered a small plane for himself and three others. The story varies a bit but either by chance, coin flip, or necessity, the other two passengers found themselves the ‘Lucky” ones with the extra seats.

          They weren’t found until the next morning, only 5 miles away from where they took off.

          So, I said that I knew the story.

          What I didn’t know was where it all happened. I knew it was somewhere in the Mid-West, but this place is huge and if anything defines the Mid-West, it’s ‘corn fields’.

          When I found out that it was near here that it all occurred those may years ago, I knew that we needed to visit.

          Near doesn’t do it justice, in  reality it’s here.

          The town of Clear Lake, where they played their last concert and the airport where they took off from are right next door. The field is in between.

          It seems fitting that the day was not perfect. Cloudy, windy, and cool, although not wintery, seemed to be more fitting for a visit to both the crash site and the venue, the Surf Ballroom.

          From the beginning the crash site has been visited by thousands and thousands of people. The farmer who owns the land keeps a path to the site mowed and free of crops, so that folks can come and visit. The Surf Ballroom, which looks like a small high school gymnasium, is now on the National Register of Historic Places and thankfully still holds small music gatherings. It’s hard to believe that back in the day that this type of place was standard issue for promoters to showcase national talent.

          No Madison Square Garden.

          No Giants Stadium.

          Nothing larger than a high school gym.

          Filled with screaming kids dancing their feet off.

          He looked sad as we passed him on our way to the crash site.

          Maybe he was one of those kids.

Well, it’s time to hit the Road again.

          No more lollygagging around nice, warm, Texas anymore!

           Time to do an oil change, kick the tires, and clean the windshield because it’s time to get out of here and head North, then West, then a little Southwest, and finally start to come East on the

Great Eastward Summer Migration of 2021!

          Texas is waaaay too hot and humid in the summer, so off we go, and we won’t be back until we hear that great ‘60’s group from Paterson, New Jersey, singing ‘See You in September’!

          This means that new posts to this blog should be forthcoming on a more regular basis. I’m fairly sure that no one needed or wanted to hear about the day-to-day drivel that encompassed my life while just sitting still in the Great State of Texas.

          Which was very comfortable (most of the time).

          Except for the Once-in-a-Hundred-Years-Freeze-and-Ice-Storm-Event that was well documented on these pages a few months ago.

          Now our Travels will take us on a circuitous route back to New Jersey for the summer.

          Starting in Iowa where our big baby will get some much-needed TLC from its Birth Mother in the maternity ward of Winnebago General.

          From there we plan to drive westward, with some stops in the Badlands, Yellowstone National Park, and finally meet Paula’s friend Nancy in Missoula, Montana for lunch. Just because Nancy will be there for a few days and, most importantly, we can.

          From there we will head south to the Great Salt Lake and a few other sights in Utah before landing in Durango, Colorado for a visit.

          When that concludes, we drive Eastward, maybe stop in Nashville, Tennessee and Charleston, South Carolina to visit friends before heading up the Eastern Seaboard to Annapolis to visit Mr. Ritter, my friend and former owner of Ritter Food and Sysco. We finally roll into New Jersey around the third week of June where we will set up camp using Sussex County for a base while visiting family in Maine, Vermont, and Boston with the requisite ‘Down the Shore’ excursion planned for August.

          September sees us headed back west to Texas and points further West until it’s time to park for an extended period.

          Stay tuned (tomorrow) for continuing posts!

What do Kid’s Cars and Motorhomes have in common?

          They both break at times.

          The Kid’s Cars were used at the Chatterbox to serve the kid’s meals in. Made out of cardboard and needing to be folded into their shape, they sometimes met their fate, and had collisions, complete with ketchup  drizzled about for realism. When they came apart, my always awesome staff would “repair” the cars for the little kid that was about to have a meltdown because their car came apart.

          Problem solved.

          The motorhome is a different animal. I do a lot of the maintenance myself, but there are some issues that I am not even remotely qualified to attempt.

          Like the really big, 24-foot slide-out that has a motor and track problem.

          This requires the slide to be entirely extricated from the body of the motorhome.

          Which requires a really big forklift type thing to hold it.

          It also requires making a several days trip to where it was born.

          Off to Forest City, Iowa, just this side of the Minnesota border!

          It is here where the folks at the factory have both the expertise and equipment to handle a job like this. Believe it or not, the price to do this at the factory was reasonably low. They will also fix a few other issues for us while we are there.

          So, today is Monday, April 26 and this adventure starts our Great Eastern Summer Migration of 2021!

          A short, but very important, back pedal if I may. You probably noticed the photo of a young lady and me at the top of this post.

          This is Darcy from Kid Stuff Marketing in Topeka, Kansas.  Darcy and I have been friends for over 17 years, but we have never met until today. Darcy was my contact at Kid Stuff, and I would call her at 7:31 every Monday morning (they opened at 7:30) for all the years we had the Chatterbox. I was always her first caller on Mondays. We talked about our children and families, heard about each other’s vacations, graduations, and weddings.  I told her years ago that someday I would get out there and visit in person.

          Someday.

          So, when this trip to Winnebago Land came up and I realized that Topeka was just a (relatively speaking) short detour, we decided that if everything looked good in the morning, that I would give Darcy a call and invite ourselves up for a visit.

           I called her at 7:31 today 😊

          She was surprised.

          Darcy told me that when she saw my name pop up on the caller ID, she was like….. “Nahh, couldn’t be.”

          But when I said, “Hi Darcy, It’s Don!” she knew it was for real.

           We arrived at lunchtime, Darcy came out to the motorhome and we had  great visit. A chance to get caught up on family news, (we couldn’t believe how big the kids got), you know, all the important stuff.

          Just one of those ‘Someday’ bucket list type things that usually never get done.

          But meeting nice people that you’ve known forever should get a higher place on that list.

          I’m happy that I made the ‘Someday’ be today.