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Subject: Bixby Green Corn Festival Road Trip Report

 Well, it has been an intersting fortnight* here at the Funny Farm.  
There's been a couple of personal things that I'd rather not get into. 
But there are some things I'd like to share with the studio audience at this time.

Last week, I had the great fortune to visit with my good friend Bartcop and attend the 
Bixby Green Corn Festival in Oklahoma.  The trip was fairly uneventful - about fifteen hours
(and a thousand miles) of driving.  I arrived in the greater Tulsa area in the middle of a downpour, 
which obligingly let up long enough for me to get checked in to my hotel room.  Then Bart showed up 
and we did a couple of shots of Chinaco before heading out to one of the local Goldie's Hamburgers
for the best burger in town for dinner.  Bart also took me to see one of Tulsa's most famous landmarks, 
the Golden Driller**.


Friday was pretty relaxed - swearing at the local drivers checking out the local area, doing a little 
window shopping, and swearing at the rain because it would not stop trying to schedule some time 
to attend the cornfest.  That evening I was very privileged to visit BartCop Manor and have mas finas 
anejo tequilas, assorted party favors, Del Castillo on video, and dinner with Mr. and Mrs. BartCop 
in the privacy of their own home.  This was my first exposure to the famous Bixby corn, and while it is 
quite a tasty treat, I had to confess that it is not head and shoulders above any other sweet corn I've had.  
It is right up there with the best - but I would challenge Bart to enjoy some Essex County sweet corn in 
a month or so (when it starts to come in season - August is prime sweet corn time in the most southern 
part of the Great White North) and draw his own conclusions.

Note: Tom bought some corn to take back with him. A few days later he told me his friends said
he might've been a little quick to declare the Bixby corn "not head and shoulders" above the rest.

On Saturday it was time to pack up and check out of the hotel.  After a quick trip to the store for ice, 
it was time to be escorted by Bart to the premier alcohol retailer in the area, where I purchased about 
$200 worth of fine anejo tequilas (worth over $300 in my neck of the woods), including some not available 
for purchase in Michigan.  

Note: As the lady was ringing up Tom's tequila, she ssid, "I like your shirt" (WPE)
The dude boxing the bottles also indicated he was happy to see the shirt.

Then it was off to the market to pick up a couple dozen ears of corn to bring home, 
and from there to the corn fest itself.  Sweet corn, home made lemonade, and local root beer were among the 
delights sampled by Your Humble Narrator in beautiful downtown Bixby.  I also checked out a local carnival 
which just happened to be located right next to the corn fest grounds.

The trip home was somewhat of an ordeal - monsoons and tornadoes in Missouri (I missed the one that 
tore through Springfield by fifteen minutes or so), and then fighting to stay focused after driving out from 
under that dark cloud.  I finally made it back to the digs in Pontiac late Sunday afternoon.

I got very few unfavorable attitudes, and a few compliments on my t-shirts, even though I was mostly 
walking around in a Worst President Ever t-shirt in the middle of Kool-Aide Central; very encouraging to 
someone who has felt ostracized and harassed by formal society since before the Republican'ts stole the 
national election (the first time) in 2000.  It was funny to hear a Putsch fellating Republican't*** tell his son 
about how the president is mostly a figurehead, and those smelly libruls are unfairly blaming him for all the 
nation's woes.  Funny thing, though - when it was the Eeeevul Clenis that was large and in charge in 1600 
Pennsylvania, the president was responsible for everything that went wrong in america (and the rest of the 
world too, as some tell it).

All in all, a delightful experience for yours truly for the most part.  A big thank you goes out to 
Mr. and Mrs. BartCop for extending some true southern hospitality to this Damn Yankee.

* - even more so than most fortnights usually are at the Funny Farm...

** - it's a horkin' big statue of an oil guy leaning on an oil derrick.

*** - which seems to be the only kind that are around these days.

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