Of course our ski trip was fun.
I mean, there were road-trip games (more on these in a sec), consecutive days of skiing, the living out of lifelong dreams, QT with Bubba, lots of drinks, vacation food, uninterrupted Howard listening time between states and all the usual misbehaving and shunning of work responsibilities that come with most good vacations.
But there was no snow.
I mean, not in the usual February in Utah and Wyoming way of snow.
It was like spring in Tahoe for Pete's sake. We were in fleeces and T-shirts instead of balaclavas and parkas. There was a distinct slushing noise as we came down the mountain instead of the orgasmic silence of my board sliding effortlessly over knee high powder.
Until the days we left, of course. I say "days" because it happened at both mountains: Targhee and Park City.
And who says there's no such thing as global warming? Even the 8 year old on the gondola with us was pointing his tiny gloved finger in that direction.
At least we got in a handful of days on the groom and spent a good amount of time perfecting our road game skills.
See - I've looped back. Phew! I know.
I thought I'd share a few road games with those of you with a trip coming up. Or, for those of you that just like mindless immature amusement. Most of these games don't even require a road trip, just two of the immature minds I mentioned before.
Game 1: Hey!
# of Participants:1 or more
Tools required: Functioning eyeballs or a partner with not so functioning eyeballs, an odd sense of humor, the ability to be easily amused
Object of the game: To account for any hay (as in the hay that horses and cows eat) you see while driving or otherwise and to trick your partner (if you are playing with someone else) into thinking you've discovered something interesting and are trying to call their attention to it.
How to play: When you see a bale, stack, barnyard, truckload or other instance of hay you scream, "Hey!" to bring it to the other person's attention while pointing in the direction of the hay and smiling victoriously as your partner realizes that you didn't actually see anything cool, you're just pointing out some actual hay. Hardy har har.
Rules of the game: There really aren't any rules except that you have to be able to see the hay when you call it.
How to win: There is only a very lax point scoring method in this game. In fact, we don't usually even award Hay points unless someone spots a unique instance of hay (see below). For the most part, the only goal with hay is to make sure that all hay on your trip is accounted for by one of the people in your party. So, to win, you can get nice and drunk after your trip and call it even. Personally, we spend most of our time coming up with interesting titles for our Hay finds:
- Distant Hay: hay that is far away
- Alternative Prisoner Housing Hay: Long rows of hay stacked high alongside a highway with roadsigns advising "Federal Prison. Do not stop for hitchhikers."
- Fancy Hay: hay that is rolled rather than square baled
- Random Hay: hay that has been dropped at random intervals over a wide field
- Hay on the Move: hay on a truck
- Hidden Hay: hay under a tarp
- Ugly hay: hay that's ugly (see, this isn't a mind bender)
- Blogging Hay!: Farmgirl and Dan the donkey play along without even knowing it from the farm in Missouri
Ah, we're so easily amused.
Game 2: Chip Off
# of Participants: 2 or more
Tools required: Two bags of chips and some time to kill while the chick at Quiznos makes your sandwich (or wherever you're eating).
Object of the game: To eat your bag of chips at a normal pace, but still faster than your partner and before your sandwich is ready.
How to play: Order your sandwich combo (We like Quiznos, but any random sub shop will work), choose your chips and begin eating your chips.
Rules of the game: Start eating chips at the same time. That's it.
How to win: Finish first - but without shoveling them into your mouth like a friggen animal. To spice it up, try to make this happen before your sandwich is ready.
See, I told you we were easily amused. We're also impatient, so this helps kill time while the employees at the sandwich place play grab-ass instead of making your food under sanitary conditions. However simple this game may seem, I am here to say that I never win. Despite the fact that Bubba has crowned me the Queen of Snacks, it appears I'm more of an Endurance Snacker than a Sprint Snacker, which he clearly is. Meaning I can snack all the live long day, while he's getting it out of the way in a matter of seconds. Either way, it provides enough diversion so that I'm not staring down the retards behind the counter as they pile on a mountain of lettuce, against my wishes, which I'll end up dumping all over myself as soon as I rescue my sandwich from the clutches of the yard-long wrapper. See, I'm mostly unfit to be around.
Ok, more games later. You know, once you've regained your respect for me as a human being of normal intelligence.