The Book I'm Not Writing

After a brief trip to Philadelphia this weekend, I'm continuing my Pennsylvania tour in the Amish country of Lancaster, fighting with a faulty high-speed Internet connection and half listening to a show on the History Channel about the origins of many Christmas snacks. This includes fried turkey and Swiss Colony Beef Logs, and let me just say, you're better off not knowing about some things. The hotel room is  quite festive in an upsetting way, as there are several competing floral patterns going on in here - curtains, bedspread, pictures on the wall. And this goes down as the first room I've ever stayed in where the Bible was not shoved into a drawer, but lay open on the desk to the Book of Psalms. I dare you to say that I'm not living it up like Posh Spice at Tom-Kat's wedding. Do I know how to roll or what?

I'm here for work, along with a few very cool people from that part of my world, so it should be good. Things pretty much took an immediate turn for the better today after I got out of the lobby of Mr. Tire. Do not ever patronize a business that calls itself "Mr." or "Ms." (exception for the magazine, of course) or "Dr." when it's not any of those things. This should really be a given, but I lapsed. Mr. Tire = Mr. Royally Sucks, unfortunately. Pennsylvania, on the other hand, is a paradise of funnily named places and things. Somewhere around York I drove by a sign for "Malleable Road", which pleased me greatly, and led me to think stupid things for awhile like, "Flexible people must live on Malleable Road". I may want to write something about it later, so don't steal it, like ANYONE would want to lift that brilliant line, I'm sure.

Lancaster is also home to a bar named Bubba's, which intensifies its small-town credibility immensely. Notice that it isn't Mr. Bubba's. And it's in a brownstone on a street corner, with Christmas lights up and down the railing, just like it should be in my schema of smalltown bars named Bubba's.

Anyway, now that I'm here, here are a few things that have caught my eye as possible wacky activities after conference time is through - or maybe even during a slow period...although I'm disgustingly responsible at these sorts of things:

* Village of Intercourse, where the slogan is "Slow down the hurry," and I could really just talk about that for awhile but I won't because you can talk to yourself about it just as well. I knew there was an Intercourse, Pennsylvania, but I had no idea where it was, and when I showed up here, the pamphlet rack in the lobby told the tale. "Witness" was filmed there, and apparently you can shop your face off in the village itself, so maybe this is where I'll pick up some of my "I totally thought of you in Intercourse" holiday relishes and candles and baskets and whatnot. There's also the Intercourse Pretzel Factory, which appears to have an awesome array of pretzel-like goodies (again..."Happy holidays! Here's a chocolate-covered pretzel! Love ya!") and where I'm really hoping they have t-shirts.

*I have got to go to Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania, simply because it's called Bird-in-Hand. Come on now. And it's run by the fourth generation of the Smucker family, but I can't figure out if it's the jam people or not. The Website indicates that they're a Pennsylvania Dutch dynasty of some sort, but I'll stop myself from saying that with a name like Smuckers...well, you know. Bird-in-Hand is only five miles from here, so I can risk the journey regardless. (IT HAS TO BE GOOD! Sorry. I'm a slave to the easy joke that references a commercial.)

* There is a Mennonite Information Center up here, which actually runs what sounds like an iMax (three screen? New one on me.) movie called "Who are the Amish?" I don't even know what  a Biblical Tabernacle Reproduction is either, but they've got one of those too. I don't know about that. Maybe the Psalm was a sign.

*Tanger Outlets. Must stay away. Need shoes but will not succumb.

*The weirdest thing I've seen so far is a  traditional shopping mall about twenty minutes away whose slogan is, "What if Mother's Day were a place?" Here's the rest: "We've created a place where moms' needs come first...a place where Mom can put a spring in her step, a smile on her face, and spend time shopping for new fashions. It's a mall made just for you, Mom. Welcome."

It's good to know we've got one whole place to coop up all the Moms, because I know I'd want my needs to especially come first at the MALL.

Weird.

Also, there are allegedly excellent biscuits here, which might be the greatest attraction of all. I somehow don't think that works into a low-carb situation, but I suppose I can blame it on research.

Comments

[JamesEasterly]

laurie -- your sarcasm is potent! I suspect you are both bored and bemused in Pennsylvania Dutch country.

[laurie]

Bemused is an occasional possibility, but I am never bored, I have to admit...Too much to do and see everywhere.

It's actually kind of nice here. There are lots worse places.