The Miller Wedding Sway

It's not the first or the second Sway at Miller Park, but it is the first one on the field. And with sequence.


WB in WV, with JL & DM

One time Joanna and I moved in parallel lines across the country while Darcy did her own thing and went the other way. That's classic Darcy, but are you getting a load of those lines‽ Who knew that Iowa City was only 6.53 miles further from Fairfax, VA than Madison is from Philadelphia? Remember that next time you're in a map drawing competition, it should help with the always troublesome middle west.

View Relocations in a larger map

Later, we all drove from our respective pushpins and met at this cabin in West Virginia. It's sort of in the middle of all of us, but really, are you getting a load of how cabin-y that cabin is? If you're keeping track, that's two loads you should have gotten so far. It was made for Swaying.

Here's something though, I'll admit that I don't know when this thing was built, but I am pretty sure that that sign is a lie.

Which isn't surprising since the town seems to have a fondness for Washington-themed lies anyway—see his "bath tub" below, which they admit in the fine print is only "a modern reconstruction of the primitive conditions prior to 1784". 

It didn't really matter since we all took in some of the presidential water anyway. It was like the opposite of not chopping down a cherry tree. Think about it.

Georgie really did hangout around the area though. Best thing he left behind, besides fewer Indians? Sixteen-year-old-GW graffito. What a rebel. And also a gentlemen. And a soldier. And a surveyor. And a chiseler.

Other sights in West Virginia included this handicapped sand box and a mountaintop Jojo overlooking a partially incapacitated Darcy. 
What are they looking at?

And then also angry mountaintop Jojo.
Look at those furrows.

Bonus Material:

The merry-go-round/centrifuge

"You bore me, Barnebey"

The games, snacks, other snacks, dranks, gummy snacks, other dranks, ROBO-Rally(!), microwaved s'mores. 

What ist this? Still unsatisfied? Well my goodness, to that I say, LOOK AT THESE BONUS JUMP SHOTS.


The Cabin Sway

Sway in the evening, time for a Yuengling.
Sway in the morning, points in the making.


Searchable Items

Number 1 search term: my name spelled wrong and cheese. Also making the list, my name spelled correctly in quotes.


In which we go to Camden, and make it out of Camden also.

Camden has a lot of things—like a bridge to Philadelphia, half a 2000m rowing course, the highest 2nd highest murder rate in America (doin' it St. Louis), and half the police force it did a year ago. We were more interested in their not quite minor league baseball team. Well, and that bridge to Philadelphia. 

Here we are, on what could have been our last walk, headed towards some pubic transit over to The Jers'.  I like this picture but I'm glad it wasn't the end.

It's a great little stadium (and that view‽), but they really don't make it that easy to get to. Once that round trip ticket you've bought doesn't work you'll have to wait until the PATCO lady comes over the station loud speaker to tell you (yes, you) to pick up the emergency phone. And it's not until she's done remotely managing your ticket that you get to wander through after-dark Camden over to the stadium. The thrill of it!  These blurry times were had:

But so were these 4th row times, and these bird times. I don't know why that happened, but it did. And I love it, shut the door. Also, The Sway finally got into full gear.

We couldn't hang out in murdertown all night though; Roxyalotta was having a birthday bash. Everybody knows that the only thing more fun than Vacation Roxy is Birthday Roxy, so we weren't about to miss that. I came close when I broke both my ankles for a minute while Swaying, but we all recovered in time for some additional Philadelphia DANCING(!). 
Where's the bus? Call a Cab!
Here's something that I want every person's visit to Philadelphia to include: late night bar sing alongs to Motown Philly followed by late night cheesesteaks on my deck.

Sunday. Day Three. Brunch. Bloody Marys. This picture, depicting our various states of array/disarray. The realization that Crapples is still stashed behind The Barbary. Finding it hidden right where you left it:

Then taking a good look at the place you had had such a good time at Friday night. In the sunlight. Feeling both good and a little scared about it.
In the harsh light of day: The Barbary

Day drinking. Everything. No, literally, we drank every single thing they had on their menu. We may have played every single Crapples card that's been made in the process.
Waitress Lex gets in on the action.

This is a great game to play at a bar actually. Find their list and start from the top. Don't try to order what you want because you can't. Your drink is whatever is next on the list. Which proves to be amazing, hilarious, and unfortunate all at the same time. Bonuses are accrued when the barkeep &/or waitress gets invested enough to search out rare off-menu items just for the love of the game. Losses are accrued when you have to pay the bill.
Here's what you don't want to do—leave your credit card on the table when the group finally let's you go home to New York. There's gonna be some extra shots on it, which is your own fault, Schwenn.
He left us! He left us!

Here's the part of the story I thought I might not tell. As bad as the crushing return to reality was when I finally returned to work on Tuesday, my funsickness paled in comparison to Monday's umbral variation on a Whitney. I had so many questions about what was going on inside of my body. There was a lot of laying myself places, and only eating bits and pieces of my grilled cheese, and doing the old shakes in the grass routine. After putting Katie and Lynda really close to a train to the airport without waiting to see if they actually got on, I went home and ate this. I think it was a good idea. If you come visit me I'll make one for you too.


Philly Phlavors

It all started with this train coming down the track. Google told me that Katie, with a non-transmitting Lynda in tow, were just passing North Philadelphia Station. I was waiting at 30th Street with tokens in hand, it was all perfectly timed so we could walk 5 blocks from the subway to my house in torrential rain. T.A. Milne was just a few hours behind them, perfectly timed to not have to walk in the rain. A reunion! Of Wisconsiners! Intermittently arriving from New York City!

For a change of pace, we went for bier in groƟ glasses. And a rousing game of The Crapples. It felt like old times, except after some time had passed and in a different state. And with some guy who called himself The Meat Man. 
Later, this face turned up. At which point in Madison we would have said, "We should be in Milwaukee so we could go to The Cat." But since we were in Philadelphia we went to The Barbary instead. It had everything—Dancing! Photobooth! A place out back to hide the Crapples Box!

That gleam in Tommy's eye? That's his, "I want to stay up and watch Episode 1 of Friday Night Lights" look. Believe it.

Other things Philly has to offer? Bus stops, stop signs, grass for lounging on while waiting for the bus,  sideways dressers that people misinterpret as something actually exciting... it's all here.


There's also this brewery. It comes with some free beers and a faded 70's feel, complete with giant fans. There's a tour too, but that's not what's important. 
Look at those girls blow!

Katie really only had eyes for this Kenzinger K they're keeping up in their rafters, but I couldn't stop thinking about the body shop next door. Where'd all those bottles come from anyway?
The view from the brewing floor.
How to top off a brewery tour? With a quick stop to that burned out brewery down the street from me, and across from America's first lager. Germans!