I had been on the road for two and a half weeks: two weeks on a road trip traveling with Bob throughout New England – inhaling the historical sites, the Presidential locations, famous graves, Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives, a National Park, local cuisine, roadside curiosities, TV locations, and the beauty of the great northeast – plus another half-week at the 18th International Sons of the Desert convention in Manchester, New Hampshire. Yes, that was a long sentence…so just think how long the trip had been. But on Sunday, July 22, 2012, it all came to an end.
Don’t get me wrong. After spending the longest time away from home that I had ever spent, I was ready to get back to Ohio – to see Ashleigh and Silas, see Jamie, and even get back to work – but it was still bittersweet to see a great trip of this magnitude ending.
Even though the scope of this trip had been so much more, this is the general malaise felt at the end of every convention. The breakfast buffet brunch always has that air looming over it that says: this is goodbye. We’ll see you in another two years. We hope.
Breakfast was good. It wasn’t until 9am, and that gave me a little extra time to sleep after my late night. The Wileys and David had been to church and back by the time I made my way down to eat. We went through some of the standard goings-off: the announcing of the winners of the Pee Wee contest and the putting contest. I knew I wasn’t in the running, mostly because I hadn’t participated in either. The big moment was the Passing of the Pineapple, during which former convention representatives (or their most obvious stand-ins) pass along a pineapple statuette that culminates in the host of the next convention getting it. In this case, it was Bob, who had been given the monumental task of hosting our next conclave in Hollywood, California.
Bob receives the pineapple from current convention host Ali Stevenson, which had been preceded by Becky Kane (Sacramento), Anton Huyps (Amsterdam), Dennis Moriarty (Augusta), and with just a leg visible, Rick Lindner (Columbus)
Bob had to leave earlier than I did, as his flight took off out of Boston at 1:45pm. I lingered around for a while, mostly just saying farewell to friends and getting some parting shots (the photo kind, that is) of many of the folks with whom I’ve literally ‘grown up’ in the Sons. Some I hugged. Some I harassed. But all held special places in my heart.
With Bob, my long-time pal
With Marcia and her cut-outs
The grand old man of the Sons, Dwain Smith
A more recent friend: Irene Valasquez, whom I sometimes prefer to refer to as Inez Velasco
Marshall Korby and I go all the way back to 1982 when he hosted the convention in Detroit and sold me wares from his Laurel & Hardy Catalog. Good times.
One of the Sons of the Desert founding members and frequent character actor Chuck McCann
A trio of toughies
With one of my pals from Columbus, Mark Turner
With good friend and brilliant vintage film scholar Rich Finegan
Long-time pals the Duffs
Lee and Dee, the couple who never changes
With Gary Cohen. We look awfully young for old-timers who both attended Hollywood ’80.
The enthusiastic collector Gino Dercola
Who couldn’t love the Wileys?
The future of the Sons organization: Steve “On Fire” Wichrowski and future Co-Chair Ed Greim
Way Out West Mama Hen Lori Jones McCaffery
Eventually I moseyed back upstairs to my room and packed up my stuff. I was unable to locate the caricature of Bob, so I assumed that he had finally grown tired of it and pitched. He later told me that he hadn’t molested it after all, so I hope that the Bob caricature is roaming the earth on his own accord and having great adventures.
Down in the lobby, I said my final final goodbyes to those who were left: David and Duffs namely. The Wileys had a departure time out of Boston closer to my own, so they were kind enough to give me a lift to the airport. We headed out around 1pm and it took roughly an hour and a half to get there.
We had considered trying to hit one more final DD&D restaurant, but time began to grow short, and we just decided to get the car back to Alamo. We got on the shuttle to get to our gate at the Boston airport, and I said goodbye to the Wileys as they got off at their stop. Then I missed my stop, so I had to go all the way around, get off the bus at the rental spot and onto another one to get back to my stop again. It was perfect… another nice mess.
It was no problem though as my flight didn’t depart until 5:42, arriving in Baltimore at 7:10. I sat between an older woman and a nerd who took off his sandals much to my chagrin. I grabbed McDonald’s during my layover, and then caught my final flight at 9:25, sitting next to a pleasantly attractive teen girl named Maddie who gave me gum. I got back to Dayton at 10:46. Dad picked me up, took me back to his place, and then I drove on home. It was close to midnight and I had work the next day.
Once I went through mail, said hello to the cats, and made it to bed, it didn’t take too long to fall asleep. The many, many quotes from the convention were still dancing around in my head:
- The more wood you chop, the more you get to eat.
- I’m kind of a big shot.
- I was right and he was right and I was wrong and he was wrong.
- This is tougher.
- LOOK at me!
- I’m spiffed / All men drink when they’re in their cup.
- Yoo-hoo!
- Not my Harry!
- It COULD be beef.
- They’re good.
- Whoo?
It would take a while to explain them, so I’ll just leave it at that. You’ve most certainly had your fill of this trip by now anyway.
Life will continue here, even if it’s not in New England…
Return to the beginning of the convention here…
Return to the beginning of the New England road trip here…
Leave a Reply