Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Escape From New York

Well, New York City, at least. I stayed in New York State. I mean, come on, it's the greatest state of the greatest nation of the greatest planet in a pretty good solar system.


meh.

So yeah. I escaped the hustle and bustle of the City and job and responsibility to an idyllic, (relatively) upstate camp on a lake. It looked like this:


Oh yes. Everything necessary for a fantastic weekend.

But first I had to pass through the Gate of Hell.


No... that's the Hellgate Bridge. I live under it.



Ok that's Sunnydale High School, site of the Hellmouth on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You're getting way off topic. You know, I don't think we communicate like we used to.

I'm talking about John F. Kennedy International Airport, man. Keep up.

I've flown out of JFK several times before and it's always been on the short trips that I've been the most disappointed. This flight from NYC to Syracuse was no exception. I was delayed, and we taxied on the runway for an hour before taking off and I really had to pee and I was sitting next to the only person on the entire airplane that felt the need to turn on her reading light and use her Women's Health magazine to reflect the glare into my foveas.

But take off we did, and land we did, and drive we (different we - Curly and I) did.

At long last I arrived at the above camp, circa 2:06 AM. Then came a 24 hour period of fun and relaxation with a colorful cast of people.


Mr and Mrs Rev were there.

And where Mrs Rev goes...


tequila follows.


Here's Curly in the yellow, and Capt. Scrooge in the black, whose birthday was the reason (excuse) for this particular celebration.


This is Joey. He's being held by his mother, Bluish-Green. You may remember her from when I ran the Boilermaker this year.

Joey's a cool kid. He's relaxed and doesn't make too much noise, and he says "Hi" all the time. Except when he says it, it comes out more like "Heyy" like the Fonz, which only makes him cooler. Also, he let me try on his life jacket.


Safety first, sexy close behind.

There were plenty of great activities to be had.

Mr Rev went kayaking:


In fairness, Mrs Rev, Curly and I went too, but we had no one to take our picture.

Mrs Rev went waterskiing:


This is hours before the tequila showed up, even.

I built a fire in the evening, because I love that stuff.


So beautiful... it speaks to me.

There was some late night swimming to be had as well:


Apparently, the water is extremely cold.

Thank goodness for that exquisite fire, eh?


What's that? You want me to bring you inside?

Oh right! I forgot to mention that we may have killed a woman:


Nah, I'm joking. I'm sure she's fine wherever we dumped her in that rolled-up carpet.

In summary, good times were had by all. There was plenty to eat and more than plenty to drink, and wood smoke and boat cruises on a 5 mile long lake.

Though on the disturbing side, there was an inexplicable portrait of Mr. Morchison hanging on the wall of the camp:


Peek-a-boo.

Needless to say, I avoided that room as much as possible.

Sadly, on Sunday it was time to return to NYC. Even sadder, it took me 8 hours to fly a distance that it would have taken me 5 hours to drive. JFK sucks. I don't want to think about it any more.

It's time for me to get going, but I'll leave you with a gratuitously sexy swimsuit shot.



Now you people behave with that picture. I don't want to see it posted up on all those smutty, disgusting, filthy websites I frequent.

Catch you later,

Rev

3 comments:

  1. um...I'm little disappointed you didn't comment on my amazing resemblance to Michael Phelps in that picture. The water's not cold, I'm just celebrating an amazing relay victory over the French bastards.

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  2. Ohh... that's right! Damnation, I had forgotten that. A patriotic tribute, I must say.

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  3. I only fly LGA. So far my experiences range from excellent (as you no doubt remember) to below average.

    Still, I'd love to get my sad sorry ass back upstate. And speaking of which, when will you be returning to the general area for Christmas? Or are you staying?

    These are the questions that keep me up at night.

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