Road Rules/Real World Challenge

What happens when a 56 year old man takes up residency in your basement pounding on walls from 8:30am until midnight?

You guessed it... Road Trip!

Last Wednesday Zane and I hit road in an effort to escape our demons (Hi Dad if you're reading this!) and visit all the Gould/Lippke/von Barta/Calzia relatives in one swing. Success! With the help of juice boxes and books on tape we arrived on the lengthy island at 4pm. Feeling pleased over our stealthy arrival (Mom and Dad Gould were in Ireland and didn't know we were there) Zane treated me to something long overdue. A truly classy date. Taco Bell and driving range.

Ladies, contain yourselves. He's taken.

We had a blast and I learned how to truly bust some balls. The next day we set out to visit Maren and Kevin in good ol' Philly. This left us nervous for their safety. As we approached their 'hood we passed a billboard boasting "Every Murder Is Real" with a hotline so you can validate your loved one's brutal slaying. Maren. Kevin. Get out. Get out now.

I have decided that a couple years ago some clever marketing person for Philly decided to hold a "Whitest Couple Ever" contest which Maren and Kevin clearly won. As a prize they were plopped straight down into the heart of the most dangerous "quaint" city in existence. Each year they survive they have received a consolation cat. While they are noble competitors in maintaining their "Whitest Couple" status, I think it's time to hang up the doctorates and tandem bikes and escape before the brotha's get down on your 'hood with that love of theirs.

After unsuccessfully pleading for them to just hop in the backseat and return to small town life with us, we sadly trotted back to Long Island to prepare for our returning vacationers from Ireland. Of course we wanted them to be greeted in style so we stayed up Thursday night making our sign.

There's nothing greater than those bored looking chauffeurs holding up placards with strangers names on them. Don't you just want to know what that stranger's life is like that enables them a personal luggage caddy? I wanted people to envy Melissa and Tom that way. "Gosh, Brad and Angelina sure look different in person!" "Well those are the best looking chauffeurs I've ever seen!" But the real reaction was "...what... does... that sign say?" Bingo. Shock and awe achieved.

Flashback to Zane's graduation dinner months earlier: Sitting at a dinner table we discussed the naming of grandparents. Zane and I decided to provide monikers for Melissa and Tom that the next generation could use. Something original, something with sass, something... odd.

So back to us at the airport with a giant sign reading "Mammy and Ta Ta" awaiting our guests. I followed the looks in their eyes when they nonchalantly scanned the crowd of anxious drivers/relatives/weird kids holding a sign that... wait a minute... those are our weird kids! It was sweet. There may have been tears. We don't like to talk about it.

The remaining weekend was filled with numerous adventures. Car breakdowns (not mine, phew!), hospital visits (everyone's okay, phew!), inappropriate movies watched (I wasn't the one sitting next to Tom when male genitalia was prominently displayed onscreen, phew!), fires (in a fire pit, phew!), and visiting with more family (not mine, phew!). All in all a successful time away from my family spent with my other family. Luckily it's only been a year so I still like them.

Next year though, we'll have to find a group of strangers to escape to.