Saturday, July 01, 2006

A Man without A Plan...

The old lady and I aren't really the family-vacation-planning kinda parents. We're usually so enmeshed in the day to day fuckshit that we never seem to be able to look ahead to long holiday weekends coming up to plan "the perfect family vacation." It's usually like, "Why the shit is the neighborhood so empty? Damn, it's the 4th of July weekend... we should do something." And then we end up renting a movie, getting ice cream, and lighting a sparkler in the driveway.

Last year was no exception, and we ended up going to the Lansing 4th of July parade. It was one of the most depressing "events" I've ever witnessed. The parade basically consisted of a cop car, an old Cadillac, a three-legged dog and a sickly troop of Brownies. We kept looking up the street for the real parade and, when people started walking back to their cars, we were like, "Wha? That was it?! Did a neutron bomb go off nearby?" It was fucking pathetic.

So, last night I was sitting around, pissing away a few more hours of my life with the "Norm 69," when I thought to myself, "Damn, it's the 4th of July weekend... we should do something." I talked to the old lady, and we decided that something had to be done. At first, we thought a trip to the new IKEA in Detroit was the perfect way to celebrate our country's independence -- by buying cheap, Scandinavian furniture! Then we realized that, with the kids in the car, we wouldn't be able to fit too much shit in the trunk and, well, fuck.

Then I remembered that there's this town that everyone's always talking about called Frankenmuth:

I mean, Mr. Z is always asking about WWII -- why not spend a day in a perfect replica of a Nazi village! And, apparently, their chicken dinners are sehr gut! "Just smile at the people, Mr. Z... thank the man for the giant pretzel, Miss O... just don't tell them your dad is Jewish... heh, heh... that's it... Guten Tag, everyone... isn't this fun, kids?!"

Or not.

Then, there are the Sleeping Bear Dunes, up north, near Traverse City. Apparently they're spectacular, giant... piles... of sand. "There they are, kids! Look at all that sand! That's a lot of sand, huh?! Yep, really worth the goddamn five hour drive it took to get here, aren't they! Okay, back in the car!"

Fuck that.

Then I remembered that we're only an hour away from Ann Arbor, the town we really wanted to live in. So, after a little research on the ol' internets, we are booked into a hotel (with a pool/hottub) for Monday night and we're going to be potentially marching in the parade with a bunch of war protesters.

Looks like it'll be a hippie 4th of July after all, Virginia!


Kim said...

Mmmm...Zehnder's. Fried chicken of the Gods.

That is all I have to say. Get some!

crabbydad said...

That's what everyone says, Kim! I guess it's gotta be good chicken... I just don't trust it. Maybe I've seen "Soylent Green" too many times.

Kim said...

Be brave! After all, Soylent Green is just people, not chicken!

Crispy, crunchy, slightly greasy, moist, tender fried chicken is YOUR FRIEND.

Frankenmuth, however, is a scary faux-Bavarian wonderland where it's Christmas all year round. That sh*t JUST AIN'T RIGHT.

Arnie said...

And Ann Arbor is only about two hours away from Hometown Ohio, if you ever wanted to go visit my dad.

crabbydad said...

Maybe your dad can meet us in Frankenmuth for a nice chicken dinner? Does he own any liederhosen?