Bergie's Birthday Blowout

Last Thursday night kicked off Bergie's 29th birthday celebration - a three-day tour of Arizona that took us through an amazing variety of landscapes and climates and included some wonderful dining experiences (and one very odd one). This entry contains some of the images from the weekend, but click the Flickr link on the left to check out all the pics from our week-end getaway.


The festivities started off with a succulent lobster dinner courtesy of Bergie's rents. They express shipped live Lobsters from Boston. It was delicious. I felt a little bad about dropping the little monsters in the boiling water, but one bite of that lobster tail slathered in lemony garlic-butter helped me get over my guilt. Thanks Yves and Lynn!


My gift for Bergie was a secret weekend escape to cooler weather. We've both been missing the crisp fall weather we've become accustomed to, so I found us a nice little bed and breakfast in Northern Arizona, where it averages about 20-25 degrees less than Tucson. The drive up north was amazing. We wound our way around mountains and went through this beautiful canyon seen on the right. And the more north we got, the cooler it became. So nice.

We stayed at the Osmer D. Heritage Inn in Snowflake, Arizona. The inn was very nice, with fantastic breakfasts each morning. The town of Snowflake, however, left a little to be desired. There really isn't much there, except an enormous Mormon church, but it served as a good jumping off point for our adventures of the weekend.

We got into Snowflake at around five, and after drinking a little wine on our patio, we decided to get something to eat. The Mexican place across the street, Eva's, was recommended by the innkeeper, so we decided to check that out. This place was quite the experience. As soon as you enter the place, you realize you aren't in your typical Mexican cantina. A large sign stands in the middle of the room, with the following handwritten greeting displayed for all customers to view upon entry: "You are commanded to serve God. Jesus was unmistakable. 'Your attitude must be like my own. For I, the messiah, did not come to be served, but to serve and to give my life.' For Christians, service is not optional, something to be tacked onto our schedules if we can spare the time..." And it went on like that. Big sign. And next to that was another sign that read. "Prayer may not be allowed in our schools, but it is welcome at our tables." And yet another sign, my favorite, that said, "Get right, or get left." And next to the word left was an arrow pointing down (to hell, I presume.) The place didn't serve alcohol, which is basically unheard of in Mexican joints. Instead of the typical happy hour menu you find on most tables, they had a list of bible verses. It was by far the preachiest dinner I've ever had. Thankfully, the rest of our meals were much improved.
On Saturday, we headed out to the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest National Park. It was unbelievable. My description won't really do it justice, so be sure to check out those pics. You wind through this park on a 22 mile road that takes you through several different natural and prehistoric man-made phenomena. We spent about four hours touring the park, checking out the rock formations, petrified trees, and the petroglyphs.

After that, we drove over to the meteor crater, which turned out to be a rip off. The crater was huge and all, it is rather amazing that a rock fell from space to create it, but they charged 15 bucks a person just so you could look at a giant hole. We paid it because we drove all that way, but I recommend against it future visitors to Tucson.

After the crater, we made our way to Winslow. You may remember the Eagle's song, Take It Easy, where the guy was standin' on the corner in Winslow, Arizona when a girl in a flat bed Ford slowed down to take a look at him. Winslow has attempted to capitalize on that fame by erecting a statue of a man with a guitar on one of its corners. That's basically what this town has to offer. That, and one of the best restaurants we've ever been to. The Turquoise room is inside this very cool hotel called La Posada. Both hotel and restaurant don't fit at all with the rest of it's rundown surroundings, but it was fantastic. I had an Elk and Bison plate. Bergie had the salmon. And for dessert, we had a chocolate souflet. Effing delicious.

Sunday, we got up and got back on the road to head back. I took the long way so we could check out Lake Roosevelt. Along the way, we drove via this gorgeous road that wound its way through a mountain forest. And the lake itself was amazing - surrounded on all sides by moutains. Near the lake, we came across the Tonto National Monument, which was a rather large cave dwelling that was still fairly much intact. It was very neat

We're back in Tucson, now. Boo. I want to stay on vacation.

Hope you are well.

Hugs,

Godfrey

Free Bird!!!

Why is it that every effing concert you go to, at some point in the show, usually while the lead is re-tuning his guitar, some dickweed has to yell "Freebird!"? This is done as if it's some hi-lariously clever quip that he or she just dreamed up on the spot. It isn't too uncommon to see this turd looking around for high-fives after pulling off this feat comedic genius. And the sad thing is, he's friends are usually equally retarded, so they reward the douche with praise. "Ha. Good one, Bry."

I'm pretty sure these Freebirders are the same idiots that say "You shouldn't have," when you're carrying flowers. And you can ask anyone. I'm the king of corny, semi-retarded jokes. Like, I can almost never pass up a chance to say "it's all pink on the inside." And I laugh at almost anything. Like, what do you get if your cross an elephant with a rhinoceros? El-if-I-no! That's some funny shit. But what I can't laugh at is dumbasses using the same tired ass jokes over and over when the jokes weren't ever funny in the first place.

So, this little tirade all stems from our outing this weekend. We went to the Josh Rouse concert here in Tucson. He played the Hotel Congress - a great little venue, by the way. And the show was pretty good. He can sometimes be a pretty mellow singer, and some of his songs venture into wussville, but for the most part, he rocks, and he's great live. At one point, someone from the crowd yelled Freebird. I muttered "dipshit" under my breath, and the show went on. But then we started to notice this other weirdo at the show. Bergie and I had gotten there early, so we we standing right up at the front, and this tool was standing next to us. During every song, he listened with his eyes closed, smiling widely, and swaying to the music, and then after each song, he'd lean forward to get as close to Josh Rouse as possible, which was relatively close in this venue, and he'd say "Thank you sir. We really appreciate you visiting Tucson, sir. Play His Majesty Rides, please." (That's one of his songs - one I don't really care for, actually.) And he did that after every song. Always emphasizing the "SIR." I'm sure I'm not doing it justice, but the guy was just creepy. They way he listened to the music with his eyes closed, and his persistence - it just seemed way too much. The funny thing is that I could see the set list from where I was standing, and His Majesty Rides was on it, but Rousey skipped it - I think just to stick it to that creepy mofo.

We also had our first visitor since moving down here. Madge McInerny was in town for a conference, so we took her out to the Desert Museum. It was great to see a familiar face. Thanks for coming down, Margaret.

That's about all of interest. Friday is Bergie's birthday. I've got top secret plans. We'll come back with all sorts of pics, though, so I'll update the blog on Sunday or Monday.

We miss you all tons!

Hugs,

Godfrey

P.S. Why don't bears eat clowns? Because they taste funny!