…it seemed like a good idea at the time, that Unlimited Sweets spell
The Trip to DogCon 3: Day 2, Part 1, In which we view movies you cannot watch, see large bathroom products and leave a town quickly.
(Note: All comments by Flash are in italics)
We spent last night in a wonderful KOA in Bend, Oregon. The Magic Bus attracted lots of attention due to it’s ever changing tie dye paint job. After a nice dinner of loco mocos, we all took a walk, then settled in to watch a movie double feature. As with our music, the movie selection on board the bus is taken from alternate realities. Thus, we were able to watch “Indiana Jones And The City Of The Dead” (which, it seems, came after Temple of Doom and before Last Crusade) and “The Road To Shanghai”, one of the Hope/Crosby comedy series, this one featuring Fu Manchu (as played by Boris Karloff to good comedic effect). A fine night of entertainment, then a fine night of sleep.
A fine night of sleep for you, maybe, but you and Mom tossed and turned so much that I had to go sleep with Winker.
This morning, we got up early and had a nice breakfast at the Cracked Egg Cafe, which serves only breakfast. I had the Real Chili Omelet, which explains why all the windows are open on the bus today.
Our first stop once we left Bend was in the tiny town of Dufur, Oregon. It is there that you will find two establishments, across the road from one another, competing for the title of World’s Largest Toilet Paper Roll.
Dufur also has lots of squirrels, which The Girls and I couldn’t chase because we were locked in the bus. That sucked. Still, we did manage to play a pretty good three person game of Settlers Of Catan.
As told to us by Mrs. Emily Umbar and Mrs. Lenola Raspe, way back in 1960, their husbands Frank and Charlie (then both 20) began several good natured competitions, as friends often do. First there was “who can grow the biggest zucchini”, then “who has the fanciest workshop”. Eventually, around spring of 1964 and the “who can build the biggest play area for the kids” competition, the testosterone level hit critical mass.
Both men decided that they would build a tourist attraction. Both men decided on building a humongous toilet paper roll. The first year, they got pretty hefty size rolls made, but the near constant Oregon rainstorms soon destroyed them. That did not stop the two bathroom tissue gladiators, who used the next few months to build very tall, very narrow barns to protect their masterpieces.
Nowadays, you pay a buck a head to see these enormous rolls, which stand 80 feet high and are wound pretty tightly (as are the men who made them, if you ask me) by special slow turning gas engines.
Today, as we arrived, both men were arguing about whose roll was actually the longest. The wives, who actually conduct the tour, were sitting together having coffee. We ponied up our money and they showed us around. The whole thing took about 30 minutes, by which time the two 75 year old men were just shy of coming to blows. While Sharon and Grace bought post cards and fridge magnets (no t-shirts available), I wandered over to the men and asked them if there wasn’t some way to measure the roll lengths. I figured they’d just do individual roll length X number o4 rolls, but they had other ideas. Before you could say “crazy motherfuckers”, they had their cars lined up on the highway with the ends of the rolls tied to the bumpers and odometer trip meters zeroed out. Next thing you know, they were off.
By the way, Winker won the game.
I figured the wives would be pissed, but they were laughing too hard to do much more than hug me and refund all our money. Gasping for breath, Mrs. Umbar explained that the rolls were at least 6,000 miles long and that she and Mrs. Raspe were now going to take a week long vacation up at the indian casino near Spokane.
Also, Sharon is a great pet sitter, cos when she got back on the bus, she gave each of us a chewie. Mine was dried herring.
Our next stop was in Roosevelt, Washington to see “Uncle Ferdie’s Trained Squirrel Review”. Sometimes I think Dad is torturing us on purpose. It got high marks from Tourist Trap Monthly, so we left the critters in the complimentary indoor dog/cat park and paid our $5.00 each to see the 45 minute show.
Unfortunately, the teenage attendants at the pet park did not secure the door well enough. Oh, sweet fate that delivered such freedom upon us! Lead by a certain 6 pound cat riding a certain 45 pound basset mix, 24 dogs and 15 cats were soon heading down the connecting hallway. Towards a room full of assorted squirrels and chipmunks. I’ll admit, as we surged down the hall, I got wood. And kids & parents. And Uncle Ferdie & Aunt Hazel, both of whom seemed like really nice folks.
You know the term “all hell broke loose”? Well, not including gatherings of my family, I now know what it looks like. Some red squirrels and chipmunks had just started performing a dance routing to “Kung Fu Fighting” when I heard the dogs barking a split second before the doors burst open.
Dogs and cats were everywhere, as were terrified rodents, terrified parents and googly eyed kids. Chairs were knocked over, scenery went flying and I think Uncle Ferdie (who, despite an old sounding name only looked about 35) may have wet himself as a bullmastiff and three welsh corgis ran over him in pursuit of a fox squirrel.
It was glorious! GLORIOUS, I tell you! Lucy and I damned near had a flying squirrel, but he managed to leap off the stage and glide to safety. Winker, sweet soul that she is, was trying to make friends with a gray squirrel who would have none of it. But oh, my friends, we fought the good fight against the rodent hordes!
We made a hasty retreat back to the bus, where I used the loudspeaker to yell “Fooooooddddd Fooooorrrr Doooooggggssss!!!!”. Within moments, The Girls & Flash were on the bus. Then, as Grace and Sharon put everyone in Critter Lockdown, I got us back on the road and outta town.
No jail can hold me, screws! Ya hear? The Man ain’t keepin’ me and my sisters down!
Our next stop is Onion World, in Walla Walla, Washington. I hope there are no onion related mishaps.
Destination Sign: Flatland
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