A note concerning tangents: (V)

Current Location: Arlington Heights, IL (pop. ~ 73,000)
(N42°08.301', W088°00.007', elev: 804 feet)
Distance traveled on leg 5: 165.8 miles
Total distance traveled: 1,545.9 miles
Expedition Outlook: Damp
Most Sadistic Arthropod: Harlequin Shrimp (hymenocera picta)


Greetings from the Windy City (or the near region at any rate)! Today we had our first taste of metropolitan exploration on the expedition. Because of our bad habits, the expedition once again got off to a late start, although while en route it occurred that we would be crossing into the central time zone and gaining an hour, so there was much rejoicing! This lasted for a bout a minute, and before Hannibal could bust out the champagne from the "Break in case of celebration" locker, I had realized that perhaps Eloise was taking time zone shifts into account on her ETA. Sure enough, this was the case, and was in fact the case on the preceding night, so when we thought we had gotten to within an hour of Chicago, we were in fact still close to two hours away. No matter, that bridge was already quite aflame and no amount of water passing under it would extinguish it.

Indiana went by without so much as a sign warning us it was coming, (before we knew it we were in Gary) and then without seeming to pass from Indiana to Illinois we ended up in Chicago. The only note of excitement occurred during a fuel stop, when, while attempting to extricate ourselves from the region, the local law enforcement swooped in, blockaded the vehicle behind us with cruisers, and lunged at it with guns drawn. Eloise is getting craftier in her insubordination.

Chicago as seen from Buckingham Fountain.

Shedd Aquarium, seen from the lake side. 

Chicago will be a two part melody. We sampled its goods today, and liked it enough that we shall remain for another. We briefly explored Grant Park, but our main objective was the Shedd Aquarium. The Aquarium is located on a spear of land jutting out into the lake, along with the Adler Planetarium and the Field Museum. The layout was simple and elegant, the fauna diverse and engaging, and the architecture pleasing. Of note was the facility's apparent focus on education and the way in which many of the exhibits were targeted at younger patrons. Despite that, all expeditions members who were present had an enjoyable time.

Edison dubbed this the "pompadour fish."

Most major aquatic habitats were covered, and the facilities were large enough to accommodate a living coral reef, sea lions, beluga whales, and pacific white sided dolphins. We spent the better part of three and a half hours within. I got to see both river and sea otters and was so ecstatic to see them that I probably squeaked. Hannibal managed to get his paws on one of the staff, as well as dominate a penguin and a turtle (We didn't have the hear to tell him they were fake. Fortunately he can't be bothered to actually read this so we're in the clear.) And Edison, well Edison found another Big Person, this one masquerading as a fountain. I dread that he's beginning to commune with them. His behavior has been flagged.

Beyond the Shedd, we met with Lake Michigan at the 12th Street Beach, touched its waters and collected samples. We planned the next day's excursion at a local sandwich shop, and then made our way to our lodgings with the intent of getting and early start on the morrow. I of course, am still up, but did you expect any less? Edison is much more finicky, and it would be best to let him get his beauty sleep (I shudder at the thought of what he might look like without it), so I will turn the broadcast over to him at this juncture:

[Notes from Edison:
Oh, how the cruel barbs of your wit jab me.... but true, sir. On the other hand, your jest about the fountain was in poor taste. Many faults I have, but if I say something about sleeping with the fishes I assure you I am talking about death, not some crazed icthylogical fantasy. For shame.

As for the rest of you, you missed a day replete with wonder and adventure. From our aquarial expedition to the torrents which even now hammer our windows, our day was dominated by water. Even incipient dehydration played a role, causing many side trips to the abundant 'bubblers' scattered about Shedd's place. We touched our hands to the waters of Lake Michigan, for a near-complete survey of the Great Lakes, we watched as sharks swam below, next to, and over us in various habitats, and we hid in a tasty sandwich shop as mother nature attempted to chastise us for having too good a time.
On that matter, a quick hello to Linda for suggesting the Potbelly Sandwich Works as our afternoon meal-place. We approved!
As always, our options have evolved by the day, being prompted or denied by circumstance, mood, and the suggestions of our friends, families, and occasionally a chance-met stranger. (Although along THOSE lines; Lauren, that guy is an idiot... Drop him like a hot rock, and then change your locks and your number. Move back to Oregon, you'll be better off.) Working without a set schedule is sometimes a little more nerve-wracking, the freedom is amazing. We would have missed a lot of stuff already if we felt we had to be in certain places at certain times. Just sayin'.
And in closing let me give you a few words I heard our friend Hannibal humming under his breath as he watched the lasses play along the seashore: "Zwei drei vier one two three, it's easy to see, but it's not that I don't care so. 'Cause I hear it all the time, but they never let you know on the TV and the radio. She was young her heart was pure but every night night is bright she got, she said sugar is sweet, she come rappin' to the beat; Then I knew that she was hot."
Until tomorrow, farvael and ikus arte.]

The great deluge of yesterday does seem to be loitering in the region. Not a terrible matter, as most of our planned activities for Saturday are indoors, but we will get damp moving from place to place. Please excuse me as a I slip into a slightly more meta vibe, lovely readers. The 'Log as the expedition has come to refer to our nightly broadcast, is often a topic of conversation during the course of the day. We are constantly striving to provide a better piece of entertainment, so please let us know what it is you would like to see or hear more of (or less of) and we will do our best to accommodate you. Until next time friends. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off;

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: Chicago, Chicago, That Toddling Town; Water Water Everywhere!; Sometimes It's A Faulty Plexiglass Floor And Not Pride That Cometh Before The Fall;   In And Out Smooth as a Scalpel, Yet Leaving Our Mark Like A Jackhammer.

A note concerning tangents: (IV)

Current Location: Paw Paw, MI (approx pop. 3300)

(N 42°12.455', W085°53.534', elev: 774 feet)

Distance traveled on leg 4: 359.2 miles

Total distance traveled: 1384.1 miles

Expedition Outlook: Anticipatory 

Day 4: Still not king.

Hello dear readers. i sit before Jameson, the flashing cursor taunting me. I am struggling with the best way to describe the visceral and dynamic responses of today's adventure with you. Best to jump in with both feet and hope for the best I think.

When last we left our intrepid adventurers, they had bunked up in the Frankenmuth Motel. Frankenmuth, also known as Michigan's Little Bavaria, was an unexpected surprise. When we rolled into the town late Wednesday evening, we were shocked to discover buildings dripping with bright colors and a year's worth of fretting and tooling by a horde of hiccuping wood workers, fountains, covered bridges, establishments like Zehnder's (world famous for its family style chicken), the Schnitzelbank, the Fischer Platz, the Marv Herzog Hotel, strange churches and spires, odd looking industrial towers, even a river boat. We went off to sleep utterly flabbergasted by our unintentional discovery, and awoke determined to explore this new environ we found ourselves in. 

We awoke, this time like civilized beings, in time to access the motel's free breakfast. When we emerged into the world, it was to reassure ourselves that our antics of the previous night were not some fever dream, but actual reality. We were not disappointed. Into town we headed, loaded for (and with, in the case of Hannibal) bear. Even the threat of rain could not mute the brightness of the architecture or the vibrant demeanor of the town. We bounced from shop to boutique to shop again. Even the people were friendly, a phenomenon we are not terribly used to as dwellers in the northeast. Hannibal was a whirlwind of debauchery, charming no less than five women in town. Janel, if you're reading this, Hannibal wanted me to let you know you were his favorite. 

With daylight came some clarity, the eerily lit tower was part of the local brewery, for example, however it also revealed other curious things as well. An infestation of Big People, as we've come call them; Those strangely proportioned and charmingly grotesque sculptures of human like animals, cigar store Indians, and other curiosities. They loomed on buildings and corners, hid in nooks and spied down upon us from roofs. The phenomenon has struck such an intense chord within us that we are biding our time and gathering data with the intent of logging a treatise later on during the expedition. 

Another curious note about fair Frankenmuth concerns its civil servants. The DPW staff responsible for the town's vast array of gardens an flora appears to be comprised entirely of comely young ladies in tiny shorts and chartreuse vests. Just another touch of unreality to cause us to wonder just where upon the knife edge of sanity and delusion we currently tread. 

Our excursion in Frankenmuth did not end with downtown, fair readers, not by a long shot. No in order to reach that conclusion we needed to visit Bronner's CHRISTmas Wonderland. Sprawling over 150 yards, Bronner's is the largest Christmas specialty shop in the world. After crossing the threshold, there was no doubt as to where we stood on the line of sanity. I am at a loss to adequately describe this place. It is full of colors and lights and set up with a disorienting layout. It was actually very similar to a casino game floor in that regard. There was no attempt at subtlety, the store came at you with an air hammer between the eyes and the intent of gutting your wallet and hanging you from an ornamental hook.

And while we thought downtown was laden with Big People, it did not hold a yule candle to Bronner's. No circus sideshow was ever this in your face or bizarre. We stopped counting nativity scenes after we found over 12 in a single wing. We didn't even try counting Santa's or the creepy, freaky gremlins they called elves. 

The photos we took do not provide the proper atmosphere, and for that I apologize. Though we spent only twenty minutes within its walls, that place will be lodged within the walls of our minds until we no longer walk the earth. We actually fled, as if pursued. Corona welcomed us with warmth, and Hannibal comforted poor Edison with a damp kerchief to his fevered brow. Shaken, but not broken, we planned out next stop. 

For no reason other than to say we'd been, we charted a course for Bad Axe, MI. Yes dear readers, you are not mistaken. Bad Axe is a small town in the middle of a vast network of farms. It had a single main thoroughfare, a movie theater, a school, and little else. We were not expecting Frankenmuth, but deep down, I think we had built the place up to more than it was. 

After no more than a brief struggle with Eloise, we set out to finally meet Lake Huron and continue on our quest. Thunderheads loomed ominously, chiding us. We found Port Austin and Lake Huron with little difficulty. The waterfront was under construction so we headed west until we could find a place to make lake fall. Unlike the majesty of Ontario, or the proliferation of visits to Erie, we encountered Huron on a small narrow stretch of beach and dune grass with no name. It was imply referred to as 'roadside park.' Huron had its own character, sure as its siblings did. Mayhap it was the weather, but it felt more sullen and dreary. It sported a vast shallow basin where we were at that reduced wave activity to functional nonexistence. The beach was closer to what someone from northeast coast would expect for an Atlantic Ocean shore: coarse, but not rough sand, shells, stones, and a jetsam of vegetation and wood. Edison honed his stone skipping skills whilst I explored. Once we were satisfied with Huron, we returned to Corona, held an expedition vote, and opted to back track a little and continue with the Chicago route. 

The weather finished marshaling itself and came howling and  screaming at our heels, chasing us south through the state. With each gnash of its teeth, lighting arced over head. Running on the edge of the storm was exhilarating. However, when we changed directions and began moving west, the storm caught us. For all that we could see what was going on, we may as well have been underwater. I'm almost certain Noah passed us and flashed a grin and a rude gesture as his ark sailed by. Though tedious, we made steady progress, and finally alighted here at Paw  Paw, within an hour of Chicago and the next leg of the expedition.

Edison was fairly bubbling today, so I apologize in advance for whatever it is he is about to set upon you;

[Notes from Edison: 

Bubbling. Hah! I scoff. My ebullience is merely the product of short nights and long days over the course of a few days. And no sane person visiting the spectacle that is Frankenmuth could walk away unchanged. An apocalyptic precursor of the end days, or a pleasant stay in a foreign hostel? Who can say. 

Say one thing for the deluge, I believe we have lost our Batlabian pursuers for good. As well, the zombies from the farm are probably so waterlogged that it will take them weeks to unbloat and follow us again. On the other hand, the Big People are becoming a serious issue. They seem to have preceded us and set up ambushes should we grow unwary. Fortunately, our wills are strong, and our senses alert. Perhaps preternaturally. 

We argued many courses for the next day, a pleasant fellow in a jewelry shop suggesting a more northern route through Mackinaw, while my pater- and materfamilias voted for southerly views near Madison. We have followed that advice, and tomorrow will go to see an extremely strange grouping of architecture if all goes well. 

I leave you with this: In the time of the Roman Empire, when Julius Caesar was determining whether or not to revolt against his increasingly erratic 'superiors', Caesar had to cross the Rubicon river, which divided his territory from central Rome. He supposedly hesitated at that crossing to ponder his options, and finally said to his closest aide 'Alea iacta est' and continued on to take control of the empire. In english that was 'The die is already cast.' 

For ourselves, and our trip; 'dovi'andi se tovya sagain'. Now it's time to roll the dice, or in the words of the prophet, "So get out there and rock, and roll the bones!."

Bongiorno, and bon chance.]

I feel as if we are playing some sort game of catch as catch can with the sun: We chase it west below the world and it rises again in the east to chase us off to sleep. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off:

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: What, Is It Morning Already?, Paging Harry Dresden, The Evolution Of A Plan, Are You Thinking What I'm Thinking, Pinky?

A note concerning tangents: (III) pt. 2: the pictures

The blog software is being extraordinarily uncooperative. Instead of attempting to inject photos I will just post them separately here. Enjoy!

Entrance to the Arboretum proper.

Mentioned pond feature.

Detail of mentioned rose garden.

Glacial Grooves on Kelley's Island

Hannibal the Lech

A note concerning tangents: (III)

Current Location: Frankenmuth (http://www.frankenmuth.org/), MI, pop. approx. 4500
(N43°19.143', W083°44.130', Elev: 647')
Distance Traveled on Leg 3: 262.3 miles
Total Distance Traveled: 1024.9
Expedition Outlook: Incredulous

Our expedition's current point of harbor has left us stuttering and breathless. But I get ahead of myself, we'll get to Frankenmuth soon enough. I have observed that we are no better than our lesser primate cousins if we fail to use the tools that are our greatest hallmark. Despite having access to at least 5 different alarms, we availed ourselves of none of them and the expedition got to a later start than intended. Ultimately this had little impact on our agenda, and I believe that the extra rest did us some good. While I unshackled and prepared Corona, Edison and Hannibal scouted for Batlabian riders. The coast, for the moment, was clear. The same could not be said of the sky, which was overcast. A good day, we felt, considering the current animosity betwixt Edison and the sun. It would seem that my companion's demeanor was too gentle for Apollo's passionate caresses and he awoke with arms, shoulders, and neck an inflamed ruin from their fiery affair. He managed to avoid Helios's advances by demurely covering what he so brazenly flaunted the day before. My Iberian Heat has thus far proven to be a match to Sol's nuclear radiance, as I have only received a challenging stare and begrudgingly respectful nod.

You may wonder about the relevance of the digression, but it was an important consideration for the expedition as we planned on spending the day out of doors. Our first stop, the Schedel Arboretum and Gardens in Elmore. The grounds were well kept, the staff friendly, and the scenery gorgeous in every aspect of the term.  A wide variety of plant life was kept and we spent the better part of two hours exploring and taking in the sights and smells. The gardens were also abundant with statuary as well as teeming with fauna. Of particular note were the Japanese style gardens, the impressive ponds and streams, and the rose garden. The arboretum would prove to be the tamest part of our day.

Upon returning to Corona we consulted both Eloise and our Paper Bound Oracle (for purported guide books they have all of the reliability of a Magic 8 ball when it comes to trying to locate something one swears he saw just the other day somewhere near the entry for "Euclid" [home of the National Cleveland Style Polka Hall of Fame]) and after some deliberation, not to mention repeatedly refusing to furnish Hannibal with a chicken so he could conduct a soothsaying, we decided to pursue our original plan and visit Kelley's Island. Our 8-Ball Oracle noted two ferry ports but failed to mention that the closer port at Port Clinton did not go directly, instead stopping at Put-In Bay (Although some truth has been harmed in the making of these broadcasts, I am not making that location up) where you could then take another ferry. After a brief talk about the possibilities of Put-In Bay and the cave system (of course) that was available for exploration, we stayed the course and jaunted over to Marblehead where after some confusion as to whether or not we could take our car we finally boated over to Kelley's Island (as it turns out the major means of conveyance on the island is golf cart, which we could have rented, although in retrospect it was just as nice to bring Corona along).

While not what we expected, the island turned out to be worthwhile for different reasons. The ferry ride out was delightful. The island itself is the largest of the Lake Erie islands, measuring in at about 3 miles by 5 and is circumscribed by laconic beaches and limestone bluffs. The eastern side of the island seemed to be  more ramshackle than the western half and downtown regions. We believe this to be because of the Zombie Farm hidden in the deep hedges and covering trees. Nothing quite lowers property values like zombies. The northern section is comprised largely of the Kelley's Island State Park and the VFW hall. The park was our main reason for wanting to visit and, somewhat ironically, we never actually set foot inside of it. The 8-Ball Oracle made it out to be a glacially massacred limestone field full of fossils, when in fact it appeared to be mostly footpaths and an old quarry. The main attraction, the glacial grooves (which did contain fossils), were neatly set off by themselves and ringed by a very municipal (in a penitentiary sort of way) chain link fence. Despite our inability to assay them, they were quite spectacular and worth the visit.

We took our lunch at a tavern (I had a delectable fried Erie Lake Perch sandwich) and befriended some of the locals. Cassanova Hannibal has a very different definition of 'befriend' than the rest of the expedition, but I save my commentary about that for later. We asked for advice while we were deliberating our next course, and it would appear that Michigan has very little going for it in the minds of staff of . To quote the chef "You could visit Detroit if you were interested in seeing the decline of civilization." (he is seriously not making this up. -ed.) Despite that ringing endorsement, we needed to press on into the Great Lakes State if we were to reach Huron. After a brief walk around downtown we returned to the mainland, garnered supplies and after significant deliberation chose a destination: Bay City, MI.

I will digress briefly to touch upon member news: At present, Edison glows in the dark. I believe his proclivity for wearing hats is the only thing that has protected his brain meats from boiling. Thus far nothing seems to have moved beyond acceptable margins, but he has begun to exhibit and unhealthy interest in nuclear power plants. If I awake one morning to find the Toxic Avenger has replaced my traveling companion I am uncertain what course I shall take. Fortunately, I do not think we will find Tromaville on any map.

Eloise was on better behavior for the better part of the day, although as evening came and went she decided to see how far she could push after we had been beset by fatigue.

And then there is Hannibal. He has taken to riding around in the Excursion bag, where he ogles, leers, and inappropriately grasps at the female form when he thinks no one is looking. He boasts an impressive polker face, however, and combined with his practiced mien of innocence most folks cannot perceive his true nature. Hannibal is ill equipped to deal with mornings (defined as any time before 3PM) and we were able to placate him by engaging his groggily vulnerable sophomoric nature by setting him loose on the statuary within the Schnedel gardens. As the day wore on and he regained his faculties he set forth on a carousing campaign that ensnared a mother and daughter on the ferry ride out to Kelley's Island as well as the bartender on said island but a few hours later. I refused to let him out of Corona for the return ferry trip. Thus far we have encountered no friction, but I am already preparing for the day where we might need to fend off a jealous lover, angry husband, or jilted paramour.

Returning my focus to the trip: The drive to MI was largely uneventful, despite Eloise's best attempts at sowing confusion and discord during a fuel stop. Due to time constraints we missed out on the visiting Bessie's (Lake Erie's very own loch ness monster) highway side kennel, a smoked meat and cheese emporium, and Unlimited Beef Jerky ("Not a gas station!" proclaimed the angry looking bull on the billboard) En route, upon a whim, Navigator Edison discovered a secret achievement and re-charted our course to the conveniently located Frankenmuth. Frankenmuth is... all I will say for now is that the town has ceased to be a stop over and has become a full fledged destination. Have no fear, you will receive an accounting in tomorrow's log, but the hour grows late, so I will briefly turn the con over to Edison before closing out this evening's transmission:

[Notes from Edison:
The Gardens were awesome. Great area, great staff (hard at work), and basically no other customers. Idyllic. Kelley's Island, also awesome, if you could ignore the rotting smell of old corpses and the shambling in the woods. I recited some lines from the necronomicon (good for what ails ya!) and we were fine.
What the sun-resistant bastard over there fails to mention is that we also passed a number of creepy movement-challenged big people along the way. And i'm not talking about the fatty contingent oozing around on their lawn mowers, but rather the tall and stilted folk with the fixed smiles and misshapen limbs, reaching for you from the side of the road like a dry bougainvillea twists stealthily towards the nearby lake. We saw them really big and merely enormous, humanoid and animorphic, mostly complete and crazily missing hands. They were a constant companion to our travels, a looming presence at our back, causing the shoulderblades to itch constantly, as if we had performed our impressionistic modern dance interpretation of childbirth in a poison ivy patch. They watched us with big, sad, and sometimes wildly gleaming eyes everywhere we went.
I believe they are in league with the Batlabians.
However, I have hope, for did not the oracle speak these words in a fit: "Hit me with your best shot! C'mon and hit me with your best shot... Hit me with your best shot! Fire Awaaaaaaay!"
We would all do well to live up to that sentiment.
For now; Arrive derci, bon voyage.]

I apologize for the lack of photography, dear viewers, but the internet here at the Frankenmuth Motel (not as scary as it sounds) is as elusive and whimsical as the focus of a well traveled hippie, and as a result it is a losing battle to attempt to upload the photos from Jameson to the log. I will seek a more grounded hot spot on the morrow and retroactively update the broadcast for your pleasure and edification. In the meantime, I wish you all well. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off;

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: Der Boom Boom Haus, Yes We Really Travelled All This Way For That Reason Alone, Si Quaeris Peninsulam Amoenam Circumspice, Indiana: As Cool As The Archaeologist For Which It Was Named?

A note concerning tangents: (II)

Current Location: Oregon, OH (N41°38.179', W083°26.385',  elev: 620ft)
Distance Traveled on Leg 2: 329.1 miles
Total Distance traveled: 762.6 miles

Inspired by the great hero Han Solo, we took shelter through the evening within our stalwart mount. Fortuitously, Corona has some significant advantages over a tauntaun: she is not full of stinking viscera and we did not have to damage her to make use of her as shelter. During my morning activities I noticed some ill omened writing on the wall: "Hope Fades." I did not let this portent dampen my spirits and in fact was hailed enthusiastically while brushing my teeth by a trucker engaging in the same activity.

Speaking of which, we saw our first female trucker today. She was old, and likely will be seeing the inside of a glue factory before too many summers, but it gave us hope that she must have come from somewhere. Alas, I digress. We set forth from NY making all haste towards Lake Erie. We quit ourselves of NY soon enough, and the brief bit of PA that we needed to cross passed quickly and inconsequentially, much like a bit of gas after a late night snack. On a more troubling note, Hannibal believes that we are being pursued by Batlabian outriders. We will soldier onward, keeping a wary eye over our shoulders.

No sooner did we gain OH than we found ourselves at Walnut Park with the great majesty of Lake Erie stretching out before us. Though Walnut Park itself was bleak and morose of character, resembling a post apocalyptic waste more than a recreational space, the lake was glorious. Unlike Ontario's silky sand, Erie's shores were comprised of a course gravel, and where Ontario lacked stone Erie had an abundance.   Our ask completed, we explored the shore and then returned to the road.

We elected to eschew the highway and instead hopped along the coast, visiting small towns and beaches as we went: Ashtabula, Geneva-on-the-Lake, Fairport, the massive Headland beach, Paineville. It was pleasant to make our way casually without the press of time or import weigh upon our heads, although not all was idyllic. As if Batlabian outriders were not enough, we are concerned about the possibility of strife within our own ranks. Of note: our to this point faithful and diligent guide and navigator, Eloise, has begun to offer strange course headings and destination selections. It is almost as if she has her own agenda to follow and we are simply a means to an end. We are keeping our observations subtle, it would be unfortunate if we were to spook her.

A potentially larger problem is Hannibal's lecherous nature. It is only the second day and we've already had to go out of our way to indulge his vice. Edison swore to me this would not be a problem before we set out, and now here I am, already employing the most severe of my askance glances in his direction. As if his manipulation of the locals wasn't bad enough, Hannibal toys within our own ranks. Young Blitz has been swept up by his charisma and already her sisters grow jealous. Edison promises to personally handle an intervention should one become necessary.

Further dwelling will only dampen my spirit and by the very nature of these excursions we must look forward. Not all is bad, Edison and I continue to discover hidden achievements and are developing our own secret agenda. On the matter of public plans, as determined by a party vote, the expedition will remain in OH for another day. We will postpone our current mission and leave Huron for the day afte the morrow in lieu of exploring some sites in the western part of the state. 

In what will likely become a tradition, Edison would like to babble for a bit before I conclude the broadcast:

[Notes from Edison: The Ecstasy of Hannibal’s wild ride, the Agony of dermal irradiation. It evens out.

Tomorrow we test the tropes of the tropics, a tragic tempest of tortured tickles as the triage turns to each teasing topical ointment.

When last I knew I was the master, now I am but the learner - to the normally retiring third of our little team. But will Hannah rue evermore her choices in the morning; her love-wracked heart spurned by a callous cad wreathed in an ursine skin? Time will tell.

The wonders of the bed are not to be denied, but unlike a certain ‘animal’ I know, it is to shower and sleep I go.

Take heart, true believers… all is darkest before the dawn. For did not the prophet once utter these words: “I didn’t even have to use my AK… yeah, you know it was a good day.”?

True that.

Adieu, dosvidania.]

Orpheus calls, dear listeners. As the mythic gunslingers of old, we will travel ever forward into the direction of the setting sun. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off.

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: The Wrath of Apollo, Ancient Island Adventures, Temptation in the Garden?, When Last I Checked We Had These Thumbs For A Reason.

A note concerning tangents: (I)

We interrupt your irregularly scheduled fiction to bring you this special documentary coverage of our author's expeditionary antics:

Current Location: Lancaster, NY (N 42°57.182', W078°36.148')
Distance Traveled: 398.0 Miles

Set out from Massachusetts today after acquiring my boon companions. For his Journey to the West Xuanzhang got Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing as well as a magic staff, a jug of fire, and a dragon to ride. I'll need to make due with Edison and Hannibal. Corona is as faithful a steed as ever. We left the Ring at the Shire and decided it wasn't worth it to go back to get it. No biggie, we didn't really want to go to Mt. Doom anyway, although I will admit to looking forward to riding the giant Eagle.

We received, via carrier pigeon, our first objective: Visit the shore of each Great Lake, touch its waters, and collect materials from the area. With that in mind we set forth for Lake Ontario. Our trip through western New York set Edison into a PTSD fugue where he thought he was in the Wetlands of the Eastern Kindgoms. He kept babbling about Murlocs and twitching. Hannibal relieved him of his duties as navigator.

En route we established that trucks are apparently operated solely by larger, older white males. We maintain that somewhere there is Mecca for attractive female truckers and one day we shall discover it during the annual wet T-shirt and wrestling competitions. A quest, perhaps, for another time.

Some 327 miles later we finally arrive at Ontario Beach Park and disembark. Hannibal remained with Corona to guard our gear while we went EVA.

We took full precautionary measures despite the harmless appearance of the area. It seemed our timing was impeccable, for we found trace evidence of the rare and deadly Legion Gull: its broad, multifarious tracks had disrupted large portions of the beach. Attempts at documenting them failed despite a noble attempt by Edison.

With the light waning, and our specimens acquired, we procured some local cuisine, and returned to the barren wastes of interstate 90. Our next destination is Lake Eerie. We plan on assaying its shores somewhere in Ohio.

[Notes from Edison:
Uncertain stares and uneasy looks accompanied our appearance. Perhaps the rugged self-reliance of we of the mountains is passe in the plains (and Wetlands) of the west. Still, further we shall go; and see if the libidinous vixens of the far blue can resist.
No strangers to the open road, our spirits still soar against the monotony only brushingly glimpsed in the past hours. No fear.
As the sage once said "Ah... Push it. Push it real good."
Adios, exeunt.]

I will leave you now with this photograph of breathtaking nature as seen from one of the fine scenic viewing stands of the Clarence Rest Station. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off:

Thank you for tuning in, both long and first time readers! In our next episode: A Secret Plan Gestates, Ohio: Why Is There So Much Of It?, A Possible Love Interest For Hannibal?, and Thrilling Amusements!

A note concerning stringless puppets

The slender young man took a step back and reviewed his work critically. He frowned at the stains on his shoes, indicative of a sloppy performance. Shadows crawled around the room, shying away from the swinging lamp overhead. Careful to avoid puddles, the boy picked his way across the room and stopped by one of the still figures on the floor. He picked up the woman’s severed head and stared into its face. A curious finger explored the empty eye-socket. Sighing, he let it roll out of his hands. The great wound in the chest cavity of her nearby corpse gaped like a perversion of a mouth. He rolled forward on his toes, and with a listlessness born of frustration, reached inside and fished his hand around. His features hardened and were twisted by a snarl. The young man hurled the body across the room, a surprising feat of strength. In the distance sirens could be heard. He headed for the door, but his attention was caught in a nearby mirror. His reflection reached forward and placed its bloody palm against his. They spoke. “I’m so like these creatures, made of the same parts, but they possess a spark that I lack. What is this thing? How can I get it? Father, for what purpose did you create me?” His beautiful face looked wooden in its grief. Pinocchio stared into the mirror and his reflection gazed back with eyes as glassy and lifeless as those of the people he had just slain.