Of religious candles, roller derby and Riley Coyote.

Spent Easter weekend in Chicago (motto: "If you really want to experience the blues, drive the Dan Ryan Expressway!") visiting my daughter and son in law. After spending the equivalent of an ice age negotiating the last ten miles of Chicago freeway, we decided to unwind with my daughter and some of her Manic Attacker roller derby teammates at a local watering hole known as "Quenchers", a tavern I highly recommend if you are looking to collect disability or avoid the draft because of punctured ear drums.

Let me tell you that I had trepidations about my daughter, who is well over 4 feet tall, participating in a sport as physical as roller derby. However, after having a couple of hours to interact with her teammates, I now just want to commit suicide and be done with it.
Just kidding, Mel, I feel much better knowing that you are flying around on skates with characters with names like, "Malice With Chains" "Gigantor" and "Val Capone"! The captain of the team, "Ava Sectomy" a lovely young thing, won the post of captain, mainly for being able to boast having been in 57 bouts with no convictions. I know for a fact, several players have done hard time.

No, really, if you met the Manic Attackers in a dark alley, you would probably be best served to curl up in the fetal position, moan pathetically and just hope your death won't be a long drawn out affair. Seriously, I was amazed that these beautiful young ladies, many with normal, everyday, 9 - 5 careers, are the kind of girls that could turn a mundane activity like roller skating into bone crushing, blood spattering, facial deconstructing mayhem. Mel, I am really glad we spent all that money on braces when you were a teenager.

During the course of the weekend Sandy and I were able to learn many of the ins and outs of roller derby including the names of the positions (jammers and blockers), how points are scored and several of the strategic manuevers used to win the game, (or to efficiently fracture major bones). The primary move for getting a jammer in position to score points (by passing other team's skaters) is via a move called, a big surprise "the whip." This move consists of the bigger and more powerful skaters hurling the jammers ahead with a whip action so they can get around faster (We also learned that Mel's first bout is April 21. For details click the Windy City Rollers link on the sidebar).

I would have thought this would have been it for excitement and education for the weekend, but then again, I am an idiot. On the next day we drove Mel to, another surprise, her sports doctor for a sprained ankle she got walking Elsie and Emma. So she said. Anyway, the doctor's office was right around the corner from Greektown and Sandy and I decided to kill time touring the area. Our first stop was a small shop that sold various incense, magic candles, unusual lotions and other artifacts and it wasn't even called Victoria's Secret. Many of the curios had distinct religious overtones that I had previously been unaware of. For instance, I never knew that you good luck could be yours or that you could assured of great monetary fortune if you just burned a candle with a likeness of the holy redeemer on it. Who knew?

After browsing that shop awhile we went to a small bakery that, wouldn't you know, was very popular with the Greek transplants of Chicago, and happened to be selling Greek Easter breads. Many people were there getting all kinds of treats and Easter breads with a red hard boiled egg baked into the middle of the loaf. When we came in Sandy saw several of the loaves on a display table and started to browse when she was confronted by a Greek lady, about 31/2 feet tall (Sandy's height) and told not to look at those loaves as she was buying all of them for her family. Now Sandy and I thought we had met the roughest, toughest females in all of Chicago at Quenchers. Wrong! A word of advice, do not come between a little old Greek lady on a mission and her pastry purchases for a major Christian holiday. You could wind up being on the wrong end of a well placed Grecian forearm. For a minute I thought we were going to have the Schnitzer's Marble Rye incident from Seinfeld. Fortunately, the misunderstanding was cleared up and they parted the best of friends. The little old lady gave Sandy a friendly kiss on the cheek, as she left the bakery with her fully laden pack mule. She disappeared into a sporting goods store. My guess is to buy a good pair of roller skates.

Well, that's all I have for now, I've gotta get going. I've got a Jesus candle to start burning.

Love
Dad