So attending this festival was a no-brainer. I put it on my calendar this time last year after I realized (to my dismay) that I had missed it.
A quick drive across the Mighty Mississippi, and I was in your thriving metropolis.
“Thriving.”
Granted, it was the first day of the festival, but I assumed there would be more.
More of everything, but especially HORSERADISH.
I saw more on the drive in than I did at the festival!
This was the ONLY VENDOR selling horseradish products:
And this was the only one with plants:
You know what the festival DID have, though?
Funnel cakes and corn dogsTurkey legs and tractors
As well it should.
It also had interesting information about the spicy root.
And town info.
Tom Petty night! I might be back for Rockabilly.
Still, I was … underwhelmed. I was in and out in fewer than 30 minutes.
Maybe I just needed to schedule my visit around the Root Toss or the Bloody Mary Contest or Root Grinding. In that case, I apologize for judging you harshly.
It may or may not be a surprise, but Dominic made it to and through graduation.
During COVID, he just checked out of school. (Let’s be honest: He wasn’t exactly a star student before COVID either.) He just wouldn’t turn things in. He’d procrastinate until the very end then scrape by.
“So what are his plans now?”
Many, many people have asked. If I had a dollar for every time … well, you know.
I understand that it comes from a place of genuine curiosity, but I really am tired of saying, “I don’t know.”
I don’t know because Dominic doesn’t know.
He’s in teenage limbo where he has not yet found his passion and purpose.
I always knew what I wanted to do. I’ve always had a plan. I am not the kind of person who drifts through life.
But some people are, and that’s fine. He’s one of them. I’m not trying to impose my will on him.
He might work for a year.
He might go to college.
He might go into the military.
His friends know what they are going to do, and that adds pressure.
He’ll figure it out. The frontal lobe is still developing.
In the meantime, at least he’s passed this milestone. I’m proud of him.
And I’m as interested as everyone else in what’s next.
Let me get this straight: You lost your mind over requiring people to wear masks a couple of years ago to stop the spread of COVID, but now you are forcing women to wear sleeves?
You claim it was to clarify language to be “equal” to men. (By the way, you really should hire a PR person or copy editor or SOMEONE to help you with your writing skills.)
Sure it was.
I can’t believe it was adopted 105-51. (Note that the House is made up of 116 men and 43 women. Party affiliation for reference: 111 R, 52 D.)
I can’t believe you wasted any time on this at all. Have you seen the state rankings? Just look!
I swear to God — you are affecting my healthcare: my mental health!
I really don’t know why I’m surprised at either of the things above. It’s so much easier to control women and what they do and wear rather than tackle big issues in all people’s lives. Right, Ann?
What an embarrassment this is for the state. You want to be in the international consciousness with this foolishness?
I’m so glad my representative didn’t vote for this nonsense. (Granted, I think he was absent that day.)
Pull yourself together, please. Focus on important issues.
Sincerely, Beth, a Missouri resident with sense
Bare arms vs. bear arms (God forbid she wears a mask.) Photo credit here.
But in the words of the late, great Rodney King, “Can’t we all get along?”
Despite the inauspicious start, I get along with both my next-door neighbors, and I’m close with about a dozen of you in our neighborhood. And some of you must like me a little as you voted me into a leadership role. I also took on the task of editing the neighborhood newspaper. Because of course I did.
As I have free rein with the paper, I want to start an advice column to help resolve minor conflicts. Like alley clippings. Neighbor friends Kathy and Marlane have agreed to help.
I think it could be fun. Also, it may raise everyone’s self awareness and tolerance.
But probably not. 😬😉
Anyway, I’m just trying to help. No need to get knickers in a twist over Christmas lights and weeds, when there is the VERY REAL problem of holiday creep.
My friend Jude sent me evidence of Valentine’s Day merch in a store on Dec. 27.
It’s been a dozen years since I’ve been in a for-credit course. I really don’t know what I’m doing in your Explosives in Industry course. Or what I’m doing in the Explosives Technology graduate certificate program in general.
My background is journalism/mass communications and performing arts.
So why am I here?
I genuinely don’t know.
I guess it just seemed cool to learn about explosives.
And I guess I wanted to do something completely different.
Even though this certificate program is billed as being for non-engineers, there’s still a steep learning curve.
I mean. What is going on there? Those acronyms mean nothing to me!
However, I did enjoy your video tour of the experimental mine.
Also, EXPERIMENTAL MINE?! That’s DOPE!
Anyway, I’m Tracy Flick, so I will figure out what I don’t know. I plan to get an A in the class.
My guy, WHAT were you smoking when you created City Museum? Whatever it was, it was some good stuff. City Museum is like nothing I’ve ever seen in my life — in person or in movies/on TV. Not even “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” comes close to this crazy place.
When I moved to St. Louis, people kept telling me I needed to visit. However, I don’t like museums. (It’s true. I’m sorry. But I don’t think you do either.) Finally, my friend Kate said that it is not a museum in any traditional sense of the word. She tried to describe it, then basically gave up.
“You have to see it,” she said. “It’s … sensory overload.”
So I went. And she’s right.
City Museum is like a museum in the way that I am like Beyoncé: barely any resemblance in form or function.
It is a building that houses artifacts — artifacts presented in chaos. It’s a 10-story fever dream.
I’ve now been four times.
Why?
You created notable features such as:
• An actual school bus cantilevered on the top floor over the street
• A Ferris wheel on top of the building
• A 10-story slide
• A five-story slide (that has not been open any of the four times I’ve been)
• A cave system
• The world’s largest (maybe) pair of underpants
• Two airplanes
I can’t even begin to summarize what is there. And every time I go, I discover something new.
Dominic and Gideon were in town, and I said we were going. They, like me, are not into museums. I said, “Hold that thought.”
Neither of them could believe what you created. Dominic lamented that, at 6’2″, he is too big for some of the tunnels.
“I wish we had come here when I was a kid.”
I fully agree. This could have entertained them for HOURS, and they would have slept well. (Every parent knows a day that wears out the kids is a good day.)
Here is just a sample of what we got into at your creation.
A seagull disgorges Dominic.Gideon finds a tunnel under the first floor. No, thank you.Dominic goes where I won’t.This is the entrance to a slide. Seriously.The caged bird yells, “Take my picture!”My hips don’t lie, nor do they fit in this opening.Dominic makes it to the top of one of two castles.
Speaking of the castles:
I’m sorry, TWO WHAT NOW?
There were a few moments where I worried about their safety and mine. I was right to worry. From the actual City Museum website:
The do-it-yourself, trying-anything nature of the museum led, not surprisingly, to injuries and, also not surprisingly, to dozens of personal injury suits. Mr. Cassilly’s response was to post telephone numbers of lawyers at the door.
The kids and I developed the habit of them going first into some cave/tunnel/hole to do reconnaissance then reporting back about the viability for me.
This tunnel was not for me.But this one was ok.
Yes, I used my own children as canaries in a coal mine.
I make no apologies. They were willing participants. And had a fabulous time.
You’ve only known me a short while, but you KNOW me.
Do I want to go?
Does my Senator (Josh Hawley) run from chaos he helped create?
Yes. The answer is yes.
As some readers may remember, I went to this event in Atlanta. Alone. (I’m the “weird” one.)
But yesterday, it was a family affair.
Mom, sister, niece, nephew
Perhaps I’m jaded, but I felt like the offerings were not as varied as the prior event and were more expensive.
Here are some fresh things I saw but did not buy (because expensive).
A gumball machine filled with cow eyesA creative use for vintage photosPart of a giraffeFun (and horrifying) night lightsThe worst item anyone could dream up for me: a clown doll. IT (the character and the doll) haunts me still.Mothman (To be fair, he wasn’t for sale. Actually, he might have been. I don’t know.)Whatever scene this is
But I did buy two things. Very cheap. Necessary, I felt.
A snakeskin pendant and a chicken foot. Everyone needs a preserved chicken foot. (Yes, everyone. 😄)
So thanks, Fam, for showing me once again that DNA is remarkable.
I enjoyed meeting you for five minutes outside the Greenville, S.C., airport as I adopted your cat son Leo. Thank you for posting him on a rescue site and choosing me as his new parent.
Those after-dinner hours (7-9 p.m.) are really quiet/lonely. I can only watch just so much “Ozark” and “Great British Baking Show.” And my house is VERY clean.
I found myself talking to — and responding to — myself. Out loud. Uh oh.
And I missed taking care of critters (i.e., Dominic and Gideon).
I haven’t had a pet in 11 years. It’s been 16 since I’ve had a cat. That’s weird in itself, as I had a cat or cats my whole life. At one point, Eddie and I had four dogs and four cats.
We had a temporary cat at the time of this Christmas card photo, and Maggie the Boxer hadn’t joined us yet. The photo gives you an idea of the craziness, though.
I’ve been wanting a Sphynx for more than five years — haunting rescue sites because I wasn’t about to spend more than $2K on a damn cat.
Luckily, you started to travel more and felt guilty about boarding him all the time.
So now he’s mine. Traumatized, but mine.
Things are going great.
He is aggressively cuddly. He gets right in my face. Breathing in my mouth to steal my soul.
And has to be ON ME at all times.
I mean. LOOK AT HIM.
Look at this FOOT!
I don’t know how you were able to give him up, but I’m so glad you did.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Beth, Leo’s new mom
Observe and report 