Readers: apologies for our lack of the necessary diligence to maintain this blog on a more regular basis. In a cruel reversal of fortune, what was originally a recreational outlet is now akin to the duties of raising a redheaded child: You care enough to be constantly nagged by your obligations, but not enough to regularly do anything about it. Our redhead is no Ron Howard, but I feel we might be able to serve up a solid Carrot Top. C'est la vie. Without further adieu, our entry:
At this moment Will is in Canada with his girlfriend and her family and I am outside of Denver (Brighton, CO) staying with the Burns/Stanton family at their lovely home on 10 acres.
To pick up where we left off, Kansas City continued to entertain. Our second day there was spent sightseeing prior to the 7pm ball game. I wrestled Will away from his mistress (the internet) after a passionate two-hour affair and we hit the streets (his wife, aka his cell phone, is aware of and accepting of this affair). We explored Liberty Memorial and the National WWI Museum first and both were amazing. The scope of this museum was dumbfounding and if you find yourself in KC with time to kill, we would both highly recommend it.
We left the memorial, got some lunch and headed over to the Negro Baseball Leagues Museum and the Jazz Museum on Vine. Both were very informative, but the NBL Museum was particularly interesting. These guys would play 3 or 4 games in a day and were some of the best athletes the game has ever seen. Not to mention that their nicknames are without par. Ted “Double-Duty” Radcliffe and James “Cool Papa” Bell were some of the highlights. Additionally, I was ecstatic to note that none other than the beloved Boston Red Sox were, indeed, the last team in the Major Leagues to integrate. I would say "eat your heart out Red Sox fans," but I’m sure the bulk of them are proud of this fact. It was not until 10 years after Jackie Robinson started for the Dodgers that the barrier was broken in Bean Town. Needless to say any future discussions with Red Sox fans will inevitably lead back to this tidbit (though not in Fenway as I like my nose the way it is).
After the museums we headed to Oklahoma Joes, a bbq joint in a gas station recommended by our surfing host. It did not disappoint. Brisket, provolone and an onion ring smothered in bbq sauce and served on a Kaiser roll: perfection (artery clogging perfection, but perfection nonetheless). After dinner we headed down to the K and got tickets (yes, for free… and yes, one came from a man in a neck brace: Will Homes strikes again). We had great seats as usual and were very impressed with Kauffman Stadium; the remodel they did is amazing (unfortunately the same cannot be said for the product on the field). We met up with Kim and a few of her friends at the game and watched a few innings with them. Kim had another couch surfer with her who was from Denmark, so we finally didn’t feel as though we were the only mooches in the country. The game ended in dramatic fashion with Ichiro making a sliding catch in leftfield. We headed back to Kim’s, cleaned up and shot downtown to KC’s Power and Light District. This is a hip area that likely received some federal injections of cash. About half a city block in the heart of downtown has been converted into a giant party plaza loaded with several bars. It’s open air per se, in that there are no walls, but there is a metal roof covering the area. It is very cool, though was not too busy as we were there on a weekday. We had a beer, headed back and hit the hay.
The next day we unsuccessfully solicited Pip (our friend whose wedding we were going too) for a place to stay in OKC. After discussing this treachery for several minutes we decided to procure a surf in Wichita, KA. A Wichita State student named Beth took us in and graciously put us up in her 1 bedroom apt. The three of us and a friend of hers went out to eat, heard tell of a donut shop in town that served up “maple-bacon” donuts (oh yes) and went back to her friend’s place for movies and drinking games. This is apparently some sort of past time amongst college students and was clearly a foreign practice to us (worry not, we did our best to blend). We pulled up a hunk of floor as the festivities wound down and hit the road in the a.m. for the great state of Oklahoma.
Next entry: the epic tale of the Joad (scratch that) Pipinich wedding in OKC. Prepare yourselves, for as you will soon see, I was not.
Cheers,
Todd & Will
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