Pre-trip activities. Winter 1999 trip, Part 1.

Jan. 15, 1999 – Preparations for the trip has underwent various degrees of mutation, figuring out how I get from point A to point B, C to D, D to E, etc. We had a snowstorm mosey into town the week before and it shut the whole transportation system down going out of Des Moines. So my original plan of taking the bus out of town on Saturday arriving in Fort Madison five hours before the train was shelved. Instead I opted to ship out Fri. night at 11 and get into Chicago 10 hours before the train left.

So after I got off work I made a beeline home to bathe and change into fresh clothes. Got new T-shirts, sweatpants, socks, underwear, and Chuck Taylor All-Stars for the road. Bought a new hat but left it behind fearing the wide brim would make it easy to blow off my dome and away, away with the wind.

I found out about a month earlier that the ceiling in my apartment would need to be replaced so in the time since New Years Day weekend I'd been tossing the old stuff out the door, and packing the passable stuff into the closets. The apartment is still not completely back to the way it used to be but alas such is life.

So I blew the joint and hopped the bus downtown. The plan was to link up with the Steve and Vicki Siegel at the Hotel Fort Des Moines, pal around with them for a bit, and hit the bus station.

It was inaugural eve in Des Moines. The governor of all my adult life, Terry Branstad, finally stepped down, and lo we elected the first Democrat as governor since almost before I was born. I wasn't much impressed, a Democrat is just a Republican with a guilty conscience. But all the labor goons and liberals were agog in joyful bliss and were finding any silly excuse to throw functions with all the trappings of royal coronations. Kinda like the same shit that went down when Bill Clinton was elected the first time around.

Steve, Vicki, and young master James with his Wiccan squeeze in tow—were dolled up in their gowns and tuxedos.

Jim and the babe took off for parts unknown under the pretense of getting something to eat, and so we three did as well. We drove off to the Starlite Village hotel where the labor goons were having a pre-inaugural ball gathering.

Over the years I'd been to a lot of labor functions at the Starlite Village but this time around I wondered if we had not run into some goon convention. All these fuckers were dolled up in tuxes and gowns. These mopes—our dues-paid representatives of the labor movement—looked more like management than Joe Lunchbox. I was disgusted. I know, I know, the Siegels were dolled up as well. I was taken aback by their appearance when I ran into them at the hotel but I wasn't repulsed. I guess that's the curse of familiarity.

It's like this really cool dude in the newsroom whose a sci-fi, comic head. And really laid back and knows what to do with a bottle of beer—but damn he's a Republican. In my book that makes him the enemy. Of course I consider Democrats to be the enemy as well, which pretty much covers the rest of my friends. So what the fuck am I supposed to do?

So we do that scene for awhile. But there was this one woman there who turned my head. She was playing the harp, so she was actually at work. I had some interaction with her as she was hauling her instrument out the door. Later on Vicki indicated that she had the impression that my charming harpist had some interest in me as well. Oh, thanks!Nothing like having an eye on someone, and finding out afterwards that it may have been reciprocal.

We blow the joint and head out to 'Westworld' to find a restaurant that would compliment the Siegel's finery. We ended up at Cosi Cucina and had a few beers while waiting for a table, and then got pampered up the ying-yang by the service and the wonderful food. Pricey as all hell I tell you. I'd like to go back but I imagine I'll be doing Chuck's more often than Cosi Cucina.

I parted from the company of my friends at the bus station and boarded the bus for Chicago.