Mr. JK has a second home near Bellows Falls, Vermont. The house is the oldest home in the county. It has a fully modern kitchen, a pool, all sorts of grilling and smoking devices, and it is situated a stone’s throw from the Connecticut River. Mr. JK tries to organize a ‘Boy’s Weekend’ in the spring and the fall, and invites friends, colleagues from work, random passerby on the street, etc. The 2010 Spring Weekend was a few weeks back. Unfortunately, everyone Mr. JK invited crapped out on him except for the V-Man and me, so it was just the three of us.
Being in Vermont is wonderful, but getting to Vermont is a royal pain in the ass. For reasons that no one can adequately explain, the V-Man and I left Jersey City at about 2 p.m. on Friday afternoon, with Mr. JK taking the train to New Haven. We were going to pick him up there when he got off the train shortly after 4 p.m. and continue on to Vermont. That plan did not survive first contact with the enemy. The V-Man and I hit the Merritt Parkway at which point we came to a dead stop. We never got above twenty miles per hour, and even though Connecticut is a small state, it takes forever to cross it if you are constantly braking your car. Things got so bad that I picked out a fat bald guy smoking a cigar in his Audi convertible, and told the V-Man that I wanted to grab the tire iron from the trunk and beat the crap out of “that smug asshole.” The V-Man is as even keeled and as level-headed as anyone I have ever known, and even he thought it was a pretty good idea. Good God, we hated that guy, smoking his stogie with his stubby pink fingers, while he jibber-jabbered on his cell phone, no doubt locking in another obscene bonus with our bailout money.* Read the rest of this entry »