February 2011

February 10, 2011

post 2 -- same night


The first post seemed a little negative, so here's another:

Tonight I was trying to think of jokes because I've been thinking about doing stand up comedy one of these days. Some people think that's a good idea, and some don't...oh well, it's not like my life dreams are to be a stand up comedian...

My thoughts brought me to remember the time my Dad (Rick jr.) and his Dad (Rick sr.) went hiking on the Appalachian trail (some people pronounce that Ap-al-AE [eh as in Canadian eh]-chen, but I hold that it's pronounced Ap-al-AH [like ahhhh real monsters]-chen).

We came across the famous Appalachian trail shelters, where a bunch of strangers hiking the trail stay shut in a little cabin with a locked gate to keep bears out. When we got there, we met some of the folks that were striving to hike the entire trail (Maine to Georgia, about a 3-5 month commitment). They introduced themselves by their trail names and I discovered that everyone who does that is at least a little crazy.

The first was "close call," and at the time I didn't know there was such a thing as a trail name, so I thought to myself, "did she just say her name was close call?" I think my Dad thought the same thing, but her husband picked up on it and told us her real name. They were Canadian and had thick accents.

Then we met "ash tray" because he picked up cigarette butts off the ground that he found along the trail, and put them in a fanny pack to throw away. He also smoked himself, but I thought this was a good name and a good cause.

My grandfather decided to take his chances with the bears and sleep outside the hut, but Dad and I slept inside -- we all survived unscathed, but I was nervous for all of us.

Over the trip I thought about my trail name and decided it was "duct tape" because I accidentally wore the wrong boots and ended up with shoes that only looked like hiking boots, but weren't terribly useful for hiking. The soles fell off so we taped it on with duct tape. On the last leg of the trip, I pretty much didn't have a sole. It was funny.

That wasn't a joke for my routine though, but I think part of the reason I'm journaling is to record some of my life stories, and that was a good one. Here's a joke:

What do you call four Mexicans in quick sand?
Quatro cinco.