If I say the words "hot sauce eating contest" to you, will you send me a psychic high-five? Or will you shake your head and wonder when I'll ever learn? Anyway.

I got up super-early to try avoiding city traffic, which was slightly successful in that there wasn't any traffic going the other way... oh well.

Spent most of the day in Bridgeport, checking out the creepiness at the P.T. Barnum Institute - also saw Barnum's statue and gravesite, as well as the grave of Barnum's most famous colleague, General Tom Thumb. Then, off to see the coolest bridge in the world - frogs sitting on spools of thread in Willimantic. Along the way I saw a sign that my tongue probably wishes I hadn't seen - "Hot Sauce Eating Contest," sponsored by one of the local restaurants. This is blistering, knee-buckling heat - it would've hurt less if the owner had punched me. I came in third out of seven; third prize means 5% off the bill. Since I'd ordered onion rings, I saved about 40 cents by searing the inside of my mouth. Yeah.

Now listening to: Emmylou Harris, "Jambalaya"

(Photo by ASurroca)

Ugh. Stuck in traffic for virtually the whole day - there was a sizable accident on the highway - and ended up back in New York City. And stayed in the exact same hotel room at the same hotel again. My life is a Mobius strip. I expect to get a new pickle barrel any day now.

Now listening to: Nena, "99 Luftballoons"

(Photo by JP Puerta)

Life Size Monopoly

We will be setting up a life-size game of Monopoly tomorrow in Atlantic City. Meet at Ventnor Avenue to play. Everyone welcome!

That web post was enough to get me over to Atlantic City for the day. Monopoly is a Franz family obsession - we've had family vacations that were dominated by Monopoly games. "How do you play real life Monopoly?" my mom asked, after I shared the exciting news. "I guess I'll find out," I answered.

I was expecting something along the lines of the giant Monopoly board back in California, but these folks were intending to use the entire city in a sort of hybrid between road race and geocaching - if you "bought" Marvin Gardens, you had to go there. In a way I'm lucky that my partner ("call me 'Kong,'" he said, from behind mirrored sunglasses and a faded t-shirt for actor Jeff Daniels - they actually have those?!?) and I only bought like two properties, because I kept getting lost and Kong kept insisting that we stop for energy drinks. "The mental edge - that's what you need to survive," he growled with a frequency that suggested more than a passing familiarity with the FBI's 10 Most Wanted List. After energy drink trip number seven I ducked out and sold our properties to the first person I could find - I'm not even sure they were in the game. On the plus side, I won $15 for finishing second prize in a beauty contest. (Just kidding.)

Now listening to: Poster Children, "He's My Star"

(Photo by iirraa)

The one thing I get hung up on in life is tying up loose ends, no matter how tenuous or loose the ends may be. I drove four hours out of my way to apologize to Mississippi John Hurt's gravesite, after all. So I knew it was time for me to do what I'd been dreading: head back to New York and explain to the hot dog guy outside Yankee Stadium that I'd ruined his life's work and sent his collection of Reggie Bars hurtling down Niagara Falls.

Long, long day of driving from Cleveland. Drove past Jacobs Field twice again, which is inexcusable but I'm so used to being in the far right lane that I kept forgetting it was Exit Only. I did stop for a break at a dairy farm in central Pennsylvania, where three goats were grazing on the roof. Then, back to the highway to sit in traffic on the way into NYC. Marketplace had a "Hot Jobs" story about a guy who does Jeep tours in Colorado, which sounded cool. Finally, back into the Bronx and to Yankee Stadium. No hot dog guy outside - no game, as the Yanks were in Boston, so I walked over to the storefront where he'd proudly handed me his Reggie Bar pickle barrel. It now read "Pipton's Electronics Hut." What? I knew I was on the right street, but the hot dog place was gone. I slipped inside to get closer to the truth.

"Didn't this used to be a hot dog stand?" I asked the clerk, who appeared ready to pass out from the agony of standing.

"I really don't know."

"Well, is this a new store?"

"I really don't know that either."

"How long have you worked here?"

"For a while. I used to work overnight stock at a kitchen store, but my coworkers turned on me for using oregano on my dinner."

"But the hot dog stand, wasn't it right - "

"I have to get emotional validation before using any kind of spice or condiment now. I can't use oregano at all. Too many painful memories."

My mind had been bent like that cardboard you find when all the wrapping paper is used up. Where was the hot dog guy? How had this store taken its place without anyone knowing? And how did I end up in a conversation about condiments with the electronics guy? And, of course:

"Do you need any Y-adapters?"

Am I now trapped in that weird para-reality in the movie "Field of Dreams" where the ghost of Burt Lancaster shows up to meet Kevin Costner? If so, does that mean I'm Kevin Costner? More spookiness at my hotel. I got the exact same room as when I stayed here the last time. I may be in deep trouble here.

Now playing: The Rolling Stones, "You Can't Always Get What You Want"

(Photo by peterkreder)

Everything's back to an even keel, so it's back on the road! This time we headed west to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, where I hoped to find out why disco is so underrepresented in the "500 Songs that Shaped Rock and Roll" list. Yes, "Le Freak" is on there, but where's Gloria Gaynor, especially seeing as how they found room for "Don't You Want Me" by the Human League?!? Sadly, the person at the front desk said "they made a list, that's how it worked." Ok then. But otherwise a good visit - how can you complain on getting to see a football jersey owned by one of The Eagles? No, really, I did have a good time.

Driving back to the hotel slightly problematic as I didn't realize I was in an "exit only" lane and wound up circling around Jacobs Field about seven times. I think I made my car dizzy.

Strange news coming from the Viva Bread people. The Massachusetts-based regional director was arrested for dumping yeast and flour in Boston Harbor, trying to turn it into a giant buttered roll. So the guy who was going to be my boss in New Hampshire is moving to Mass to take over the regional effort. They've hired a new field organizer but he/she won't start until I do, August 2nd. It's cool. No matter how esoteric the punch, I can roll with it.

Now listening to: Siouxsie and the Banshees, "The Staircase Mystery"

(Photo by Jason Pratt)

A lesson learned on this trip: when you get tackled by security for inadvertantly sending a pickle barrel full of candy bars down Niagara Falls it's time to cool down the excitement quotient of your road trip. That's wisdom you can share with your children and your children's children. In practical terms that means I stayed up late in my hotel room watching cable ("Clue: the movie" was on) and eating large sub sandwiches.

Must bring karma back into balance before end of trip. Today a good start. Sticking with a safe routine today to avoid legal entanglements. Visited several of Buffalo's Olmstead Parks. Spent an hour watching a spider in its web. No way to get in trouble for that, is there? Got some quizzical looks from passersby, but they might have just confused me for a hippie or a mime or something. Another sub sandwich for lunch. The simpler the better. All systems must revert to normal. Watched three movies in the hotel room, all of which I'd seen before. Being quiet and unobtrusive. Apologized to hotel neighbors for repeatedly getting ice from hallway ice maker. Now going to sleep without breaking any laws, unless I sleepwalk and do terrible things. Better place a desk in front of the door to be safe.

Now listening to: Ben Lee, "No Room To Bleed"

(Photo by christinatina robinson)

I'd hoped to make it through the summer without a speeding ticket, and not being a speed demon (I may have set a record for most times passed by other drivers), I've done that. If you ask me whether or not I made it through the trip without getting detained by police... well...

Good breakfast in Pittsburgh - some sort of breakfast wrap with sprouts. Then, a drive up to Niagara Falls that should have been super-easy, except for one thing: the blasted barrel full of Reggie Bars I picked up in New York kept rolling back and forth in the backseat. I'd tried everything to keep it in one place back there, but over and over it dislodged itself, tipped over and started smacking one side of the car or the other depending on which way I was steering. By the time I got to the falls I'd had enough and decided to reorganize the entire back seat to keep the stupid barrel in place. (Let me tell you, being the instrument of a Reggie Bar barrel-collecting hot dog vendor is not easy.)

So I'm in the parking lot at Niagara Falls, getting a barrel and various other equipment out of my car, and before I know it I'm being tackled - who knew there were Reggie Bar addicts at Niagara Falls? But no, they were security guys who thought I was intending to jump the falls in the barrel, and they were putting me into the back of a police car. As they struggled to bring me over to the squad car, the Reggie Bar barrel tipped over and began rolling, and rolling, and rolling... right over the falls. Like so many daredevils before them, I have a feeling the Reggie Bars did not survive their jump.

The police were really cool about everything in the end, once I explained why I had a barrel in my car. The watch commander offered me a brownie, but I declined. I've had too much trouble with candy on this trip already.

Now listening to: The Clash, "I Fought The Law"

(Photo by laffy4k)

Yesterday's Big Apple-ventures were maybe too much excitement, so today was a mellow driving day. (Mellow for me, maybe not for the people behind me, who were honking and passing with angry abandon.) I did stop in Hershey to see if the air really did smell like chocolate (sort of) and to stock up on candy supplies, in case my newfound stock of Reggie Bars isn't enough. Driving with a sugar high isn't illegal, is it?

Anyway, got into Pittsburgh near sunset, so not a lot of time to check out attractions. I happened to stop at a hotel which was holding a crafting workshop in one of the ballrooms, so I made a scrapbook of my trip with some stuff that's accumulated along the trip: a patch of my zombie costume, a matchbook from Vegas, a leaf from near Juneau's Mendenhall Glacier, a free pamphlet from Pueblo, Colorado, etc. Two of my classmates were players from the Pittsburgh Harlequins rugby club. Seriously. The one guy's scrapbook included a piece of an old tooth.

Now listening to: Nancy Sinatra, "These Boots Are Made For Walking"

(Photo by boyghost)

What a day! Got into NYC early enough to miss most of the traffic, though I parked the car at a hotel and used public transport for the rest of the day. This worked well except for one stop, but more on that in a minute.

Started the day with a visit to Battery Park, where I saw the Statue of Liberty from a distance - no chance of getting a visitor's pass and apparently you can't go up anyway. Quick tours of the National Museum of the American Indian and the United Nations, where a guy in my group pestered the tour guide about whether or not his iPhone would get charged international rates if he checked his voicemail there (technically the UN is international territory). Another guy asked to see "the black helicopter exhibit."

Dropped by a hip-hop concert at Central Park, which was cool though a bit unexpected (someone told me there was a performance of Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing" going on).

Then, a trip into the Bronx, where I visited a cool place called the Hall of Fame for Great Americans. It's a series of bronze busts of notable American figures in a number of different fields - there's a teachers' wing, scientists, etc. It's not very well-known, as I was the only one there, but well worth the trip - though some of the statues seemed to be sending me subliminal messages. Alexander Hamilton looked like he was saying "Why, Marcus, why didn't you stop Aaron Burr?" Also, why isn't Jackie Chan in here? He Rumbled in the Bronx, after all.

No trip to the Bronx could be complete without passing by the home of the Bronx Bombers. The Yankees were inside beating the Oakland A's; I was outside talking with a hotdog guy who seemed more interested in stories about hotdogs than the dogs themselves. "This is the House That Ruth Built right here," he explained, "and the Babe hit 714 home runs. I can make hot dogs 714 different ways right here. Baseball ain't baseball without hot dogs." He then proceeded to explain at length the methods in making most of these hot dog variations. He was the Glenn Gould of the frankfurter.

Desperate the steer the conversation away from hot dogs, I remembered something I'd heard from my aunt and uncle's friend in Montana, the guy who was a huge baseball fan. "I met a guy in Montana who was here at Yankee Stadium the day the fans all threw their Reggie Bars onto the field," I said, and his eyes lit up. Uh oh.

"Reggie Bars!" he bellowed. "The best candy bar we ever had, and I mean that. You ever had one?" I think they'd stopped selling Reggie Bars before I was born. I shook my head. "Come with me."

We walked over to a storefront about a block away. "This is where I sell dogs in the off-season," he said. "Come on back here." In a cluttered back corner that doubled as an office of sorts, he drags a barrel out and takes the top off. "Look at this," he beamed. A barrel full of Reggie Bars. "I knew someday a young man would come along and want to know about the Reggie Bar. I've been saving them in my old pickle barrel for this moment. It's your job to tell the world about the Reggie, and about hot dogs, too, if you can." I went to take one, but he stopped me. "They're all yours," he said, with a tear in his eye.

Now remember, I parked my car at the hotel, so I wasn't exactly jumping at the chance to wander around New York City with a barrel full of twenty year old candy bars. But who am I to stop a man from fulfilling his Reggie Bar destiny? I took the barrel amidst profuse thanks and got back to the hotel at like midnight admist an evening of confused looks. I bet this is one even New York, New York hadn't seen before.

Now listening to: Strawberry Alarm Clock, "Strawberries Mean Love"

(Photo by JP Puerta)

Had a long chat with my parents this morning; I enjoyed catching up with them until my dad said, "It's hard to believe in two weeks you'll be off the road and at work." I hadn't been paying close attention to the calendar, but he was right - I've got til August 2nd to roam around, and then it's time to organize New Hampshire for Otis H. Basketry (and, from my conversation yesterday), maybe for talking butter).

It's been a good trip - and by "trip" I don't mean the fall I took today on the the steps like the movie "Rocky". I've literally been from one end of the country to the other, up, down, back and forth, zig-zagging in the most incomprehensible way possible, and it's taught me that I have a poor sense of direction. On the other hand, I have some funny stories to share now, which makes me a better party guest.

The fall down the steps at the Museum was the only lowlight, otherwise it was a great time. Suits of armor = fun, always, as long as the people in them aren't trying to kidnap you in Arkansas. Took a walking (or, after the stair incident, a limping) tour of the historic district with Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell. Lots of patriotic imagery to use when I'm canvassing for votes in the fall. When the Founding Fathers were signing the Declaration of Independence, what kind of breads might they have had on hand?

Now listening to: Strong Bad, "The System Is Down"

(Photo by Abby Goldstein)