vituperation

March 31, 2003

If you take one part Bush at War, which you started read last night during a long and languorous lounging in the bathtub, and you mix it with one part bedtime discussion with your wife about having 15-bean soup for dinner tomorrow, do you have any idea what you get?

I do.

You get a totally insane wacked-out dream wherein you’re discussing the finer points of eating beans - including both fiber content and fart capabilities - with Donald Rumsfeld, the Secretary of Defense.

At least if you’re weird like me you do.

As long as I’m mentioning things that I should probably be embarrassed by, we watched Jackass: The Movie this weekend, and it was one of the funniest fucking things I’ve seen in a long time.

Favorites:

• Steve-o puking every time he landed in foul things.
• The electric muscle stimulator. Particularly when it was on the gooch.
• Fireworks launched from buttocks.
• Party boy.
• Most favorite? Far and away it had to be the leap into the ceiling fan.

I took the spud to an airshow yesterday, a first for both of us. Unfortunately, when we got there the entrance to the airport was blocked by police and I erroneously concluded that parking was full. Turns out the directions on the airport’s homepage were wrong; they directed people to the main entrance when in reality the entrance for the airshow was on the back side of the airport. As a result, we ended up parking - with about 300 other people - alongside highway 20 outside the airport.

After a good solid week of spring weather (it actually hit 80 on Friday), winter returned with a vengeance over the weekend and the temperature yesterday was about 40 degrees with a 20-ish mph wind blowing. Pure nastiness, and we ended up staying only a little over an hour because we couldn’t take the wind cutting into our ears.

We missed the Blue Angels, the sole reason we went.

We did, however, get to see an F-16 and an F-14 performing displays of raw power, which was infuckingcredible. At one point, the spud asked me why we (the USA) had such slow airplanes. I explained that they only looked slow because they were so far away, and that they was intentionally going slower than they could.

About 30 seconds later one flew over us, maybe 500 feet up, going many many hundreds of miles an hour. He was nothing but a streak against the clouds. And the sound, my God. Words cannot express how awesome it was.

I just looked over at the spud and said, “Still think they fly slow?”

Of course I had the camera with me, and I’ll leave you with some pictures I took.

Because I love me some American flags waving in the wind.

An idea of the people along highway 20. They stretched out
in the other direction, too.