Freedom City Sirens Sing the Night Away

This entry has twenty-six pictures. It will take forever to load on your dial-up, and it will take up a lot of space on your Google Reader. What're ya gonna do, stop reading? Actually yes, that's exactly what you're going to do. My readership is way down lately. What's your problem anyway? Wait I take that back. If you're reading this you're not part of the problem. You're part of the cure. A true F.O.M. Look, whatever. We have bigger things to talk about here. Things greater than any of us. Things like freedom.

So this picture of a Bald Eagle is pretty great.


Look how free that thing is. He didn't have to get no permit to flap those wings. Anyway, follow me here. This is Leland G. Horton.


As of press time he's only hours away from marriage. By the time you read this the deed will be done. He's marrying one Lisa Williams. If you ever need me on a Thursday night I'm probably at their house watching reality television. Idle chatter, a few nights ago:

Lee:

I might be up for some type of adventure.

11:28 PM me: some sort of bachelor adventure

Lee: Yes.

If only there were a town called Freedom City.

It'd be a perfect trip for a bachelor.

11:29 PM me: Oh man.

hmmm

I've caught the trail of a "Freedom, UT"

11:30 PM Lee: Pardon?

me: there is a Freedom, Utah

11:31 PM I'm trying to figure out where it is

Lee: What the.....?

So for his last day of "freedom" we decided to take a road trip to Freedom, UT (founded 1871). A perfect adventure day.

Man, freedom, am I right? Lee can say goodbye to that and say hello to in-laws and APRs and arguments because he wants to watch the big game but she wants to drink tea. What a life he's giving up! Take a look at me. Sitting here. 3:30 in the morning. Blogging. Taking pictures of my tiny viking. Wearing one shoe. Listening to Fake Plastic Trees over and over. Soon to fall asleep on the loveseat. Cold. Sick. No one to dance with. No one to care whether or not I allow the bed bugs to bite...

Hey a drive-in theater!

Just to give you a sense of geography, this adventure took us through Spanish Fork Canyon and a ways on Highway 89, a very similar route to the one used on the
Dec. 15 Adventure Day.

Departed from Highway 89 in the city of Mt. Pleasant. It boasts that it's the "Hub City; the Center of Utah."


Guess what? It totally is. Mt. Pleasant is right there in the middle. Look it up. I think there's a certain psychic energy because while in the Mt. Pleasant area I really felt completely surrounded by Utah.

You know I love a Main Street.


A statue. It's positioned across from the Veterans Memorial, and Lee pointed out that she's making an obscene gesture toward it.


This area is known as Little Denmark, as you can see by this sign.


It was discovered by the viking Leif Ericksen, who founded a moderately successful meat and grocery company before moving on to conquer the Jutland Peninsula.


Remarkably, this song was playing on the itune right as I took the above picture.


In Little Denmark you can only buy little Danish things.


After a wrong turn or two we finally discovered Freedom. The wrong turns were good because they reminded us that freedom isn't easy. You can't get to freedom without passing through a Valley Forge and the Articles of Confederation.



Not much of a town, but there were several houses amongst the ruins.




Freedom is home to a moderately sized poultry operation, and also a lot of hounds.


Tried to make it over a snow ridge but the little Scion couldn't do it. Betty wouldn't have had a problem with it. Not at all. Sometimes I miss Betty.



Cemeteries are required viewing whenever I'm in town. This one came with a stern warning.


Probably because it's guarded by this trippy owl.


This burial site belongs to "Indian Jim." He was a friend to the settlers because he'd warn them about impending Indian attacks. They rewarded him by giving him a dugout on the west side of town. "Thanks for saving our lives! Now go live in a hole."


They also spelled his name wrong on his original headstone. No respect for Indian Jim.

Anyway, cool cemetery.


Hey, there's too more of those majestic lords of the sky.


That cow understands freedom. You know he do.


Backtracked to Mt. Pleasant for some foods. A building on Main St. had a bunch of 20+ year old movie posters hanging on the side.

The Fifth Monkey, starring Sir Ben Kingsley and Sir Mr. Crumpet.

Can't get enough of this.


We were way out of place here. The counter was occupied by old prospector types, and the booths were full of guys that probably know what tractors are for. And here I am with my New York Mets cap and an Obama sticker on my car and traveling aromatherapy kit. No joke, but the waitresses seemed fascinated by us. They excitedly asked where we were from, probably hoping that we'd say "Hollywood."

I think the one girl liked me because she left this on the table before we sat down. It was filled with packets of sugar and sugar-substitute. Probably because I'm so sweet.


They didn't have a sushi menu so I went with a cheeseburger and onion (moyone) rings. TOP SHELF. The only non-Training Table onion rings I've ever enjoyed, and probably the 8th best burger I've ever had. I love Utah. I love exploring. I'm excited for Lee and Lisa. I love that food. And with that we'll end.

i could be dancing right now

I got a job!

One of those jobs that only lasts one day. But it's in the film industry! I turned a studio from this:


To this:


Using this:




and both of these (hands) (only one pictured):


I've never painted anything before, unless you count that one time a kid in the neighborhood tricked me into whitewashing a fence for him.


Also I have a really bad cold.

ungainly

Right now I'm sitting in my favorite sittin' chair, laptop on lap, catching up on the current season of the television series 24. I'm also drinking tea because I woke up without a voice. Not fun. That's never happened to me before. All my dialogue today has been whispered, just like Jack Bauer when he's saying something important.

Well that sets the scene. Duuuuudes my weekend was swell. I mentioned the inversion last time, and it all came to a head on Friday night. I emerged from my subterranean Lair of Underemployment and found the world wrapped in a thick toxic fog. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Visibility on the roads was limited to maybe 20 yards. I couldn't believe how dangerous the driving conditions were so I texted everyone I knew about it.



I picked up terrence and went to the Urban Outfittings. There was nothing there for me. Unless you think green and purple plaid flannel would be a good direction to go in...

I did grab a new pair of shoes though, because I've had some recent success with dice games.

Went to Pat's BBQ, a happening little joint in a part of town where one could reasonably expect to witness a murder.


Actually it's just an industrial area full of warehouses and the like, but something about it feels murdery.

Get this. By the time we got to Pat's BBQ they had run out of food? All because of this guy!


Thanks a lot Guy Ferry. Pat's had been featured on his show Blah-Blah, Blah-Blah, and Blah earlier in the week and the place had been filled to capacity since. Well good for them I say. Nice to see a local BBQ place succeed in the face of stiff corporate competition like the McRib. Still. Look at that guy. I feel like he personally ripped a briscuit sandwich out of my hand and shouted "Now that's what I call food. Hey batter batter!"

Michelle was there. She has a reputation being lazy, and it's well earned. Twice this weekend I saw her just sit there and command complete strangers to bring her food! Geez lady.

After dinner (they still had some chicken left) we went to some cursed Frogurt place. Micky (new microsuede character) and I argued about whether a bed should run North-South or East-West. I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree on that one. Then I tried to prove that I had more Canadian street cred than EmilyA but she won out by being from Canada. Scott, fed up with my needless antagonism, punched me in the face and left an imprint of his skull ring. It's still there. Maybe now I can finally start calling myself the White Aaron Neville.

Wow, this blog entry has really turned into Link City.

Saturday morning I had breakfast with Andy at the Park Cafe. It was very crowded but still had food because Guy Ferry hasn't gotten his bleach stained hands upon it yet. There was a guy there with a t-shirt that had "I would die for what I believe in. Would you?" written on the back. On the front was the Safeway logo. Weird.

Saturday night I went to a soiree over on Woodshire. There are no pictures, but if you're reading this there is a 90% chance that you were there. Good party.

Sunday morning I fell into the sea.

That's actually a crab tank at the Ho Ho Gourmet (the original, not the new). EmilyA had the great idea to go there. I was disappointed at first but then an endless parade of Chinese snacks rolled by and all was well. I must have eaten over a dozen dim-sums as I watched the snow fall outside and delighted my companions with tales of the zoo. I want to make this place a tradition but sometimes you just can't recapture the magic.



After that I braved the snow and went to three different grocery stores, but was only able to find one jar of my Peanut Butter. I don't think my brand is affected by this recall that's going on, but this doesn't bode well. I may have to write another letter.

Then I saw Revolutionary Road.

I was reluctant to see it because movies dealing with suburban ennui tend to irritate me more than not. But this movie isn't quite as hard on suburbia as the trailers would have you believe. It's more of a personal story. I thought it was really good, but at times it was agonizing to watch. A lot of the things dealt with in the film spoke to the same issues that keep me up at night, for better or worse.

Here's the review.

lady ace has cool nikes

edit: 3/18/09 - sorry google searchers, this blog entry has nothing to do with Nikes and you will find no information here.


It's a valid question: if all I do is sit around all day, why haven't I updated the blog? I don't have an answer for that. In my week of unemployment I have accomplished nothing. I sit on my couch dickin' around on the internet. Maybe I'm loathe to blog because it would be a permanent record of my non-activity?

I guess I can't really say I've accomplished nothing. I have had a few occasions to colden my feet in the snow, and we'll talk about them now.

You probably saw that picture from my last post. What you may not have noticed is that in that picture I'm firing an assault rifle. Scott, who has recently resumed blogging and can be found on the Friends of Microsuede list, has amassed an impressive collection of firearms. I think he's up to sixteen? He collects WWII rifles and other non-WWII weapons. Guns are dangerous! But also pretty fun. Saturday we went shootin' because after the inauguration Obama was probably going to take his guns away.



When shootin' there's really only one appropriate type of furniture.


The mountains are vanishing. Somewhere under that haze of clouds is a city. People crying out in silence, unable to breathe. This was my first glimpse of the Inversion, which will become a major story in coming days.


The pictures may make it seem peaceful and isolated, but not quite.


There were a lot of gunmen on the road that day.

So that was Saturday. Let's check out another snowy adventure, Monday's trip to Roosevelt with Terrence and Lady Ace.

We found a frozen lake and of course Terrence had to go lay on it.


That's him there.


After initially balking I decided I wanted to get in on the frozen lake fun too so I went down there.

Proof!

That ended up being kind of a mistake because I really don't do well with steep inclines. I blame my severe undiagnosed asthma and the old bullet lodged in my left lung (guns are dangerous, remember?)

The fun thing about Utah is you never know when you're going to run into a red rock desert. One minute snow and pine trees, the next:


The Duchesne/Roosevelt area was completely blanketed by fog. Indian Ghost Fog probably.


I think the sign just encourages them.


We went to Roosevelt to visit some friends, Suzanne and Jed. I don't actually know them very well, but they're good people and they have my endorsement.

Here's a thing in Roosevelt:


This road leads to Skinwalker Ranch, the Scariest Place on Earth. Look it up.


Satellite photo of Mars, or smashed jar of frozen pickles?


I like to think that someone was loading their groceries into their car, noticed that the pickles were frozen, then smashed them in anger. But the smashing probably came before the freezing.

Back at Jed and Suzanne's lovely home we made sushi. This is my first ever self-made sushi bar. Doesn't it look appealing? Mmmm, lumpy seaweed roll.


From right to left you can see the evolution of my sushi knifing abilities.


Something tastes like blue.

Rainbow Twizzlers: No.

The drive home was perilous because of the intense fog and speeding trucks. It was very Beatle-esque though. What with all the Beatles music.

If you'll pardon me, I have to go cough myself to death because of Salt Lake's poison air.