I Forgot to Bring a Towel

I Forgot to Bring a Towel

"Hence a phrase which has passed into hitchhiking slang, as in 'Hey, you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There's a frood who really knows where his towel is.' (Sass: know, be aware of, meet...; hoopy: really together guy; frood: really amazingly together guy.)"

- The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

It isn't that I am a negative guy. At least I don't think I am, but I have really rum luck on trips and like to keep people interested when I tell stories about my trips. This is my most recent story about my most recent trip.

I woke up yesterday, which I suppose is the best thing to do if you want to begin a day or a story. It took me awhile to get ready for the wedding I was going to be attending that evening in Kentucky. I showered, shaved, packed, and brought everything imaginable...except some wine and of course, a towel. I should've known it was going to be downhill from there.

Somewhere on the Ohio border, I misplaced the street I was to be following. I managed to get directions at a local petrol station, and continued across the river to Ashland, Kentucky. I must say Ashland is a pretty little town, but the signage lacks much to be desired. I spent about fifteen to twenty minutes looking for Route Sixty. I finally went into the local Office Max and asked for directions. It turned out that the road I needed was not properly named in my directions from Google. (I do like Google, but their cartography skills lack much to be desired many times.) Now the road itself had the names of the route I needed on a sign, but no arrows. This led me to believe that the road I needed was still to come.

I drove down sixty and made it to Interstate Sixty-Four. I drove down this to the exit I needed, followed the road and went the requisite street numbers. However, my destination was missing. I drove by several times. Out of cell phone reception, I promptly turned my car around to where I could call someone. Amazingly, I was to discover that not only did the town have more than one Mt. Zion churches, it actually had more than one Mt. Zion Christian churches. At this point, I didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of getting to the church in time because the other Mt. Zion was on the other side of the county.

I still was game though. I drove another half an hour, pulled into the parking spot, gathered up what I thought I needed, closed and locked the door...with my keys inside. It was okay though, I would just ask people for help. It would be just another part of the story.

Inside, I found a person dressing up in a panda outfit. Didn't quite know what that was about until later. The pastor was good, but I wanted to challenge his views of marriage, free will, and the role of God in a marriage. Then, the panda came out and gave them the rings. Afterwards, the mother of the groom told me that the best man, Josh, had given Zach, the groom, the idea because when Josh was little he had been asked to be a ring bearer and didn't understand why he didn't get a bear outfit. My friends laughed when they heard this.*

So, they finally got my keys out of the car and I drove to the reception about forty-five minutes after it started. It was a good reception. I saw lots of old friends and no one expected me to dance. (I can drink with the best of them, dancing...not so much.) I had really good conversations with old friends and I will not bore you with those stories.

I stayed the night with a good friend of mine and his wife. (They were both feeling a little under the weather and I pray I don't get what they have had.) I came back today and though I didn't buy a towel for the return journey, I did map my way back a lot better. The most interesting part of the drive (aside from the mixed discs I made), was the part in Wayne National Forest where snow lay before me as if there were a clear line of demarcation. It was so neat.

I am safe at home, but before I go on my next trip, please remind me to bring a towel.


* How am I supposed to laugh at this? The word is bearer not bear. It isn't a true homophone, there is an extra syllable and we are not the bloody British, we don't cut out a plethora syllables just because we've had a bit too much to drink or because we're bored or because we want to screw with other English Speakers. (No, its pronounced Lester, not Lichestershire you stupid American. Look how its spelled Leicestershire, how can you get Lichestershire from that?) The same can be said for Gloucester (Glos-ter), Towcester (Toas-ter), Worcester (Wuss-ter), Beaminster (Bems-ter), and on and on and on. Give the British a word, and they'll abbreviate the hell out of it. However, they have yet to abbreviate it to the point where it is a series of grunts. We will be leaving that for Americans to accomplish on the value menus instead of numbers, according to Jim Gaffigan.

Also I had believed at the time that the panda bear was actually a member of the raccoon family and thus it would've been better to find a black or brown bear suit. However, upon further research, I have discovered that the giant panda is in fact, a bear.