Piddle Paddle

Hey, y'all - 

Chip stayed with us for the weekend, and it only took Hagen about ten minutes to claim Chip as his own. Whatever game Hagen made up, Chip was going to be on his team.

We decided to take Chip rafting so he'd get a real Montana experience while he was here. Hagen was a little more game than usual for an outdoor adventure, though his choice of wardrobe was a little peculiar. Although, I guess it's not the WORST idea to wear a hard hat and a safety jacket on the river. 

Hagen sat in the back of the raft with his best buddy, Chip, and talked his ear off the whole way about Dragon Puppies (of course) and their cousins the Fire Fish. No idea where he gets this stuff, but Chip is now convinced I need to write a series of children's books about the dragon puppies. "You know it's a parable for interracial children," Chip says. I owe him 15% of the gross now. 

The river is pretty low this time of year, so we actually had to do a lot of steering, and more than once we got caught on the rocks and your dad had to hop out and push us off. He thought it was great fun, but he likes things that are cold and uncomfortable. 

Our friends Correy and Greg came along, and rode in their fishing raft, and spent a lot less time getting themselves unstuck than we did. Their daughter Abby rode in our raft so she could sit with Laney and you two giggled all three miles of our journey. 

Here are the rest of the pictures from the day:

We miss Chip already.

Love,

Mom

Dierks Bentley

Hey, y'all - 

My first week of college, I sat down in my Playwriting I class next to a friendly-seeming guy with long hair. "Look," he whispered to me, "I can do prom hair." Then he put his hair up into the same french twist that every girl in America was wearing to their high school formal that season. That's how I met Chip Dorsch. Sometimes, something this stupid can be the start of an 18-year friendship. 

Today, Chip works in marketing in Nashville for a lot of great artists. When I found out Dierks Bentley - who his company reps - was coming to Missoula for a show, I told Chip he should come out and stay with us for a weekend and we could all go to the show together. Even though he's the busiest man in show business, he agreed. 

Since Chip is a well-connected dude, I figured he'd be coming with something better than seats in the nosebleed section. I invited my friend (and die-hard country fan) Julie to go with us, but I decided not to tell her about all that hanging out with Chip could entail. Instead, I wanted to surprise her face off. 

This was the moment Chip told her she had a backstage pass:

They're best friends now. 

We went backstage to a VIP area where Dierks performed a short acoustic set just for the small group of people gathered back there, hanging out next to the open bar. "Well, this is just terrible," said your dad in one of the funniest moments of the night, because it was basically country music heaven.                                                                                                                             

The next funniest moment of the night was when Chip introduced me to Dierks as his last girlfriend, which is probably true. Dierks, who knows Chip well, laughed. "This is my husband, Thor," I said, "I'm HIS last girlfriend, too." 

We watched most of the show with the roadies from the side of the stage.

                    

As you go through life, remember to take pleasure in the simple things, and never overlook the joys of the common man. That said, if somebody with connections offers you an All Access pass, enjoy the hell out of it. 

Love,

Mom

Jerry Johnson Hot Springs

Hey, y'all - 

Last weekend, we took a day trip with a group of friends to Jerry Johnson Hot Springs near Elk City, Idaho. 

It was a beautiful 90-minute drive in a drizzle:

The hiking trail to the springs was fun on this rainy, cold day; we all had bathing suits on under our rain coats. 

If you follow the river for a mile, you notice that there's steam coming up between the rocks, and eventually, the trees part and you find yourself in the middle of a big rock field of small hot water pools. 

The temperature was about 50 outside, but the pools were around 105. 

Grandma Sue had warned us before we went that it was a favorite hangout of funky old hippies. When Grandma Sue cautions you about hippies, it's intel worth listening to, because the woman knows of what she speaks. But y'all didn't seem to mind the neighboring friendly folks letting their giblets dangle in the breeze. 

We had the biggest of the pools all to ourselves, and got to enjoy a great picnic in nature before the rain came back. 

Nothing I love more than adventuring with you two.

Love,

Mom

Pokemon Go.

Dear Laney,

[Apologies to anyone who already saw some of these pictures on Facebook today, but not all of the grandparents have embraced social media, so I'll post them here for posterity.]

Yesterday, you and your friend Jude hauled me all over the neighborhood, trying to teach me how to play Pokemon Go. For those readers who aren't familiar with this mobile app that's sweeping the world, it looks like this:

Using some kind of GPS magic (a unicorn on a treadmill in Bill Gates' basement), it keeps up with where you are in real time, and suddenly little animated monsters will pop up on your screen as you walk around the (real, not virtual) world. It's received a lot of praise because it encourages players to leave the house and get some exercise. 

I wasn't into it. 

By the fourth time y'all asked me if I wanted to catch a Charma-whatever with my balls of fury and trap a whoosewhatzit in my Poke-dingdong, I was done.

This picture below is the same look I give my 60-something year-old mother when she doesn't know how to cut n' paste in Microsoft Word (I call it the "Bless your heart, old lady.") I have become the weak link. Whatever. I'm old. Get off my lawn.

This looks like a stock photo for "How Lice Are Transmitted."

The birthday boots are still a favorite.

You caught two something-or-others, and found four poke-balls.

When I was in college, I had a friend from Mississippi named Brent who looked down on drinking games like beer pong, etc. He used to say, "It's a sorry man who can't just sit down and drink for the sake of drinkin'." That's kinda how I feel about Pokemon Go. I think I'll just stick to walkin' for the sake of walkin'. 

Like the other old people. 

Love,

Mom

Shoot, Shoot, Bang, Bang

Last Saturday, I woke up before the sun and drove myself to the airport for a flight to San Diego. I watched the sun come up over Missoula from my window seat. I was on my way to do a full day shoot of the new World Gym Ambassadors...you know, that gig I have about once a year where I make people in prime physical condition do difficult exercises over and over again all day long while I tell a camera guy to film it. I maybe burn 20 calories all day by pointing. 

Because I had most of the day free when I landed, I convinced my friends Karen and Amy to meet me on the pier in San Clemente. It's always so great to see them, even if they spend most of our time together trying to convince me to shop at Ann Taylor because "it's not as geriatric as you think." Nice try, ladies. 

Sunday, the shoot went well. Push-ups were done, muscles were flexed, treadmills were cranked up to eleven. I carried a hard drive and took notes. Exhausting.

After we wrapped, I drove to Old Town to buy cool presents for you guys, and to indulge in some hot taco action. One thing I miss not living in California is authentic Mexican food. I am not kidding when I tell you that I found a way to eat tacos four times in two days on this shoot. 

Monday, I woke up and flew to Vegas to film the World Gym convention, because obviously, if ANYONE has her finger on the pulse of the fitness industry, it's the lady who just ate a tortilla chip omelette with extra queso. 

Coming down the escalator at the Vegas airport, I reflected on how little I like the town, and how Photoshop is a very powerful tool (I see you, Mariah.)

But the view of the Strip from my room at the Mirage was lovely. 

Brian was also at the convention, and we decided to have dinner together at the Bacchanal Buffet at Caesar's, because we thought all that excess would be campy fun. But we're the kind of people who opt for a $15 all-you-can-drink package, so obviously our decision-making is suspect.

We do not recommend the Bacchanal experience. It's Hometown Buffet with better art direction.

But after all those glasses of cheap Chardonnay, my mind was BLOWN by the spiral escalator. The moon landing was no longer impressive to me, as compared to tourists moving up and down in an arcing direction.

Tuesday morning I woke up and my body immediately reminded me that I'm looking down the barrel at forty, and have NO business engaging in "all-you-can..." anything. I was at the pool when it opened at 8am, which is when all the old, pasty folks hit the pool in Vegas. These are my people.

I filmed all day at the convention. I interviewed vendors and franchisees and award winners and watched other people sweat it out at fitness demos.

Wednesday morning, I flew home. Two shoots, two cities, three airports, four days. 

I missed you the whole time, because I love you more than tacos. 

Love,

Mom