Parrothead Ramblings

Bob Karwin, featuring The Laughlin Horns on Ring of Fire. As you might expect, The Jello Shot Prince is drinking while the rest of us work.


I need a couple days of to rest up from four days at Phins To The West. You know - rest, recuperate, rehydrate.

It all started Thursday, when a bunch of us met up at Margaritaville to convoy out to the Avi for the big event. As you might expect, that pretty much turned into a party in its own right. It ended when we pried ourselves away from the bar and began to discuss which navigational beacons we would pass on the way out. Some, Tipsy Tommy included, opted for Wickenburg. I thought that might be a good idea, but the Pirate Captain, in true Pirate Captain fashion, announced in no-nonsense fashion that he was going through Blythe, even it he went alone. OK, Captain. You have the radar detector. Lead on.

After we hit I10 and headed west, I called Tipsy Tommy. They were still shopping at Westgate, but he said they were for sure going through Wickenburg when they left. "Fine," I told him, "I hope to see you sitting poolside with a beer, wondering what took us so long when we finally get there."

The trip wasn't all that remarkable, save for the few moments when The Pirate Captain's moon roof inexplicably opened, and a hand clutching a camera protruded through. WTF? I meant to ask what the hell that was about, but I forgot. Something tells me the explanation just may end up in a comment.

After several hours on those ridiculous winding, humpbacked, one lane roads in California, we did finally arrive to find Tommy and Julia waiting for us, although not poolside. The Captain growled that we stopped three times, and that's what took so long. Tommy countered with the fact they were still shopping at Westgate when we'd been gone 20 minutes.

We went ahead and hit registration early and got our swag bags, which were pretty cool since they included stainless steel flasks and giant insulated beverage mugs. It was somewhat of a mixed message:

YOU ARE PROHIBITED FROM BRINGING OUTSIDE BEVERAGES INTO THE POOL AREA!! Oh, by the way, here's a concealable flask and a giant freakin' drink mug for "water."

The long trip was forgotten quickly as the beer began to flow and the music of Bob Karwin and Alonzo filled the air. The Laughlin Horns once again backed Bob on a rousing cover of Ring of Fire, and as usual, Alonzo's appearance was met with a dozen or more middle-aged white folks wearing Rasta hats and fake dreadlocks. I gotta get me some of those dreads.

That afternoon, as I was putting on my event badge, and......

BACK STORY: I registered Wayner for Phins without his or Janner's knowledge, because the trip was a surprise birthday gift for Janner. When prompted to enter a badge name for him, I couldn't resist entering "DUMBASS." Won't he surprised when he sees THAT on his badge?

A few days later, we were at a party with a bunch of folks, including Cultural Infidel, who is on the Phins Committee. By that time, we had told the birtday girl about her gift. Infidel, not knowing the story on the badge gag, walks up to Wayners and asks "Do you REALLY want 'DUMBASS' on your name badge?"

The best laid plans...... .....

......as I hung it around my neck, I glanced down and saw what appeared to be too many words. Looking more closely. I saw what I should have seen coming all the way from Quartzite.

My name badge read DUMBEST ASS.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.
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