That's my neighbor, uh...Larry.
The plummeting temperatures outside were compounded by the fact that all night I had a fan blowing right in my face. Why? The damn neighbors. I don't know if it was the people that live above me or on the other side of the wall from me, but someone has having a very loud argument or political discussion or whatever. This was at 2:30 in the morning so I turned on the fan to drown out the noise.
The man had a high, whiny, out-of-breath voice and the woman sounded like a squeegie against a mirror (note to self: don't forget to windex the tv tonight). I couldn't make out any of the words so I didn't even get the pleasure of eavesdropping. One thing I could hear loud and clear was this horrible gagging cough that I think was coming from the upstairs neighbor. I don't know what my logic was (it was 2:30am) but I was very worried that somehow vomit would get on me or my stuff. I don't need that.
I decided to wear a white shirt today so as to better blend in with the snow (makes me a more difficult target for snipers). I tell you this because it leads into what has apparently become a recurring feature on this blog:
What I'm wearing today, and what "character" I look like.
So today I'm wearing a white dress shirt (do you call these Oxfords? what is an Oxford?) and it's a couple sizes small because I hate it when my shirts are all puffy. I've got the sleeves rolled up to my elbows for ease of movement. I caught myself in the bathroom mirror and it turns out that my burnsides are particularly robust today, giving me the appearance of an Irish farmer. An Irish farmer that just sat down for dinner (probably corned cabbage and potato cakes) but then there was some kind of farm emergency so had to go back out to the farm and do some farm work.
So that's what I look today. I must not be the only one that thinks I look like a gentleman farmer because one of my co-workers just walked up and handed me a pansy. She had as whole thing of pansies for some reason. I told her I had no lawn nor garden that the flower could call home, but she got all defensive and said "Well then put it in a pot!"
I bet you're glad you read this.
"Attention everybody! It is time...to dance!"
A low rumble in the distance. A truck climbs slowly up the road, heading right for us. My brother and I joke that the driver is some sort of axe murderer. We have a good laugh until we actually convince ourselves that it is an axe murderer in that truck. We roll down the hill (faster that way), get in the car and lock the doors just in the nick of time.
Let's see, where to next? Simpson Springs, check. Lookout Pass Station, check. Pet Cemetery, ch---wha? Well this requires further investigation.
The Pet Cemetery is somewhat disappointing. The name plaques on the gravestones seem to have been looted (probably by punk-ass teenagers) and the whole are is overgrown with weeds.
Nevertheless, it is a tasty mystery. Why is there a Pet Cemetery out here in the middle of nowhere? There aren't any houses or farms for miles. Who's pets are these? Did they or did they not come back to life? If they did, where are they now?
The sun sets, and it occurs to me that I have exercised poor judgement. When venturing into the desert, following a dirt road in an area with minimal traffic and no civilization or streetlights, perhaps one should start this journey more than three hours before the sun goes down.
We're about 200 miles from home. If we keep going we will end up in Nevada, where we'll have to cut North and hook up with I-80 in Wendover. I have no idea how long it takes to do that, but from there it's another two hours to home. I just want to be home now.
That's the problem with road trips. Getting there is fun and exciting but you don't realize that you'll have to drive back too.
We decide to tough it out and head to the next station, Fish Springs. It's only a few miles away. We can look at some fish then make our way back.
Something goes wrong.
We drive for miles and miles and it gets darker and darker. There are no more signs for Fish Springs. Clearly I have taken a wrong turn somewhere.
Behold! Distant lights!
The closer we get the more lights are revealed. Is it a city? Impossible! There are no cities out here. Unless somehow I've hooked around and I'm looking down at Tooele...
Suddenly a bright green light flashes. "Did you see that?" I exclaim. It flashes again, and continues to do so at odd intervals. It appears to be on top of some sort of tower.
I realize what we're dealing with. The Dugway Proving Ground. A not so secret military installation. No one really knows what they do out there, but there are rumors aplenty. Chemical warfare tests, radiation beam experiments, and other general tomfoolery. There are a lot of UFO sightings out here too. Probably what the green light is for. Guiding the UFOs in to land.
Not that I believe in that stuff.
I turn off the main road onto another path. Eventually we come across a gate saying "Danger! Unexploded ordnance in this area. Turn back!" In the hills all around us we see small lights darting about. Probably military guys doing military stuff, locking the sights of their bazookas on my poor car and the people inside of it.
Fearing reprisal from government thugs, I don't take a picture of this. We turn tail and run, driving back the way we came at inadvisable speeds, dodging rabbits and elk all the while. After a few wrong turns we end up in the town of Vernon.
Another spooky old town. We drive round in circles through lonely neighborhoods, full of houses with no lights in the windows. It's unsettling. I'm hoping to find a place to ask for directions but there is nothing. Where do these people go for groceries or gasonline? Why do they live in such a silly place?
We finally find a way out. Across Utah Lake I see the friendly lights of American Fork, where my soon to be ex lady companion resides. I turn on my phone. No messages.
So there you have it. An fairly interesting day, made memorable by the werewolf attack.
Wait, did I forget to mention the werewolf attack? Oh man, that was the best part. Unfortunately I'm out of time now.
I like that last line. So you're driving around, maybe listening to the Diane Rehm show, sipping a Dr. Pepper, and then you see R2-D2 standing on the sidewalk. You think "Wowie wow wow wow!!! Sure, online bill pay is convenient, and I only communicate with my friends and family via text messages, but come on, it's R2-D2. I'm gonna write me some letters. Maybe subscribe to a few magazines while I'm at it."
I really wish I would have had the opportunity to hear the newscaster say the phrase "lovable droid."