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Let 'Er Buck
The Pendleton Round-Up beckons, and as I've done nearly every year of my life, I will heed the call, don my shit-kickers and shirts-with-snaps and LET'ER BUCK!!! (Are you sick of this phrase yet? believe me, you just can't yell it too much - try it. Just yell it and it immediately takes you to a happy place. It's like the redneck OM.)
We're leaving this afternoon and will be back Sunday. It's a seven hour drive with two adults, but will take us the better part of two days with the two Whirling Dervishes we're strapped with for AN ETERNITY. Quinn will alternately scream in anger and scream in delight the whole way and Madeleine, the reformed screamer, will hopefully zone out on Duck Tales. Jim's getting the truck detailed today in preparation... why? I do not know. When we get back it will be coated inside and out with sour milk curds and vomit. Tiny pukes a lot in the car.
Jim drives because we'll be pulling Campy and I always play the I'm-Just-a-Girl-Who-Couldn't-Possibly-Maneuver-That-Big-Ole-Thang card if there's anything attached to the butt of our truck, and I'll be the music mix-master, changing CDs every 5 minutes because I cannot abide by sitting through songs that bore me. We'll alternately argue about whether the Steelers will make the superbowl again (gag-wretch), or whether Madeleine should someday be allowed to have a car (no! okay maybe!) and discuss what movie has the best soundtrack ever (tie between Dead Man Walking and Reservoir Dogs)... then we'll get there, eat some stuff, see some people... then we'll drink a bunch, yell for the bullriders, drink some more at The Elks Club... then we'll suffer through it all again in reverse, with more vociferous arguing and screaming and threatening to pull the car over if you don't stop vomiting because I know you're just doing that on purpose to annoy me... then ta-da! It'll be Sunday afternoon and we'll be shell-shocked sitting in our living room amongst the dirty Wranglers and empty string cheese wrappers. And I will weep in anguish that it will be another 360 days until it happens again.
Until that time... Happy Trails.
Song of the Day? My favorite Willie tune ever - Blue Eyes Cryin'
PS - Take a look at this guy's rodeo photos. They're excellent.
posted by Mignon at 7:01 AM
Take LOTS of pictures!
LOTS of pictures!!
(Hope you survive the car ride)
Well, she-it! I hope there will be a rattlesnake round-up to complete the fun.
Have a great time.
"It's like the redneck OM" I thought that was "Git'er Done!"
Have fun!! Hopefully it's a chunk free trip.
This vacation doesn't sound as good as the camping trip you told us about a while back. Or maybe I'm just remembering the photo of the sausage for dinner. Actually, on second thought, that wouldn't sit so well right about now.
I must be in extreme denial, because after reading this post, I immediately thought, "Good! It's still possible to make a seven-hour drive with young children."
Have a good time and kick some shit for me.
Shell shocked is right - I just got back from a road trip with my two. Actually, it was two weeks ago, but I'm still recovering.
(Off to sip more wine, that's part of my recovery plan.)
Mignon, I need some warning next year and I'm there. It's been 18 years!! Have so much fun. Love always pd
Look out for Mr. Barge there Mignon! He's leaving tonight....he's not riding. He says (and I quote) "I'm too old for that shit". Have fun!
And please tell Madeline thank you very much for the lovely picture!
Baby, if that ain't a goooood time, I don't know what is.
Looking forward to the pictures! These, I have a feeling, will be interesting. (Although your camping pics might be hard to beat.)
damn sam, Mignon. you take the cake. (but before you take it, can I have just a wee bite? so ..very.. hungry...)
I really think I may just need to worship you for a few minutes.
I think so many things about Pendleton. It was this false oasis in the valley, the only sizable town, on the eight hour drive between my house and boarding school. Hot, ugly. And all the biggest asswipes at school were from Pendleton, with their belt buckles and cowboy boots and overwhelming hatred of literacy.
But none of that has to do with the Rodeo. Except you'll be surrounded by them there. And they will mistakenly take you for one of their own, seeing only the Wranglers and not the poet's soul inside.
Oh have fun.