Wing Bowl XV: Part IV: Jesus, Wings, and Annabelle Lee

I've been editing so this is a re-post if you've read it already. Anyway, I'm gearing up for the big dance, going out Thursay about midnight and plan on staying up until whatever time it all catches up with me Friday night. I'd say I'd post then but I don't know what condition I will be in after Wing Bowl, so likely not until Saturday or Sunday at the earliest.

So, I'm heading out for the Wing Off in Trappe, PA, to the Trappe Tavern, but my sister calls and invites me over for dinner. I was pretty hungover from Meats' send-off the night before, he went to Africa to do a Doctor's Without Borders type of thing, so I took her up on it, figuring I'm pretty much done with wings for now seeing as the smell sickens me. Nice dinner, her kids are sweet and cute. But then the news comes on, and of course, as it happens now every night, more bad news about the environment: there are giant icebergs dropping into the Arctic Ocean, Polar Bears are starving, and, yet, my brother in law says, "I don't believe we human beings, are causing in global warming, the Earth has been having warm and cold cycles forever."


True enough: however, as I pointed out to him, ask anyone involved in or associated with the earth sciences, and they will tell you the same thing: this is not the same type of climate change that has happened in the past: it is far more rapid than anything the planet has experienced before. Blame industrialization, blame overpopulation, blame the emanations cause by chicken wings coming out of my ass, blame China, the results are the same: it's gettin' hot in here, I take off all my clothes.....

Now I know where this is coming from: James Dobson, Chuck Colson, and Richard Land et al. Seeing as half the wing nuts in my family are born-again Evangelical Christians, this doesn't actually surprise me. But that's another topic for another day, I'll go into that later.

So anyway, back to Wing Bowl tryouts: I left my sister's and drove up to Trappe. Took the long way as I mistook Route 30 for Route 3, whatever, it's the drive not the destination, but made it in time:

I was a little hungover from Meats' send off the night before, but, I got a bad vibe from the joint: So what's in a name: Trappe, because, if you move there you are Trapped for life. Trappe, because inbred rednecks are always Trapped in their hometowns. Trappe Tavern, because, once inside, I realized there were two hundred people in a venue, that, at best, holds 75, thus Trapping me inside. No Wingettes or really any shallow, hot chicks, either. Only: Cows. Eating. Chicken. Not seeing Frank "Empty Plate" D., and having received a call from my friend Jeff, who was going to meet me there, but had a sick daughter at home, I decided just to head on over to Jeff's, about 10-15 minutes away.

So we rapped for a while, I updated him on all my wingdings and comings and goings. Eventually, his daughter Annabelle came down from her room she's 5.

A: Hi

Me: How are you?

A: Good. I puked in my bed today!

Me: Really? What was it?

A: Macaroni and cheese.

Me: Was it all macaroni? [Saw my sister Judy puke spaghetti and minus the sauce one time, it was all noodles, kinda cool though for a five-year-old to witness]

A: No, it was all cheese. [Weird. The inverse. Don't know if I believe her, but I wasn't there. Jeff? Jayne? Your comments please.]

Kid, as a Wing Bowl wanna-be, trust me, I feel your pain.

All in all, a good night.

Next Stop: The Big Dance, Wing Bowl XV, actually, I'm going to post some of my "scholarly research" -- ha! how pretentious!-- before then, kind of dry, but if you're into it, enjoy I guess.