The story of Upland
Aug. 3rd, 2004 07:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gordonzolaI never spent more than an hour or so away from the Sonoma Sisters for the entire first week of my vacation. This lead to the kind of in-joke, speaking in code thing that I haven’t experienced in years. As annoying in real life as it would be if I tried to recapture it here, I will spare you most of the details.
They had the Big Sister/Little Sister dynamic going for them and since I am the youngest in my family, but 10 years older than Little Sis, I could easily play both sides of the fence. We’ll just leave it at the fact that we all had about 10 different nicknames for each other by the time I drove Big Sister to the airport. An example: Big Sister likes to point and wave her finger while she chooses her words. This drives little Sis crazy in the way only something that has been happening one’s entire life can. She snapped early on, yelling at Big Sis, "What are you trying to say, Pointy? C’mon spit it out. What’s up Waggles? Use your words." Besides Pointy and Waggles, the nicknames Boozy, Nubbin, Sweet Tip and Flash Tattoo were used repeatedly.
The most enduring of our travel stories deserves to be told, however. Our first day in Chicago, Big Sis really wanted to drive to Upland Indiana and go to the Upland Brewery. She had met the brewmaster at the Micro-brewery conference where she had given a workshop on cheese and beer pairings. Me and Little Sis hemmed and hawed, preferring to stay in the city, but eventually gave in when Big Sis promised it was only a 2.5 hour trip and that she would drive home. Big Sis after all, had arranged for my place on a panel that made my conference free and had paid for Little Sis’s ticket to the cheese conference.
Big Sis is not a planner, but I confused her for one because she is, though I love her, kind of a control freak when she puts on an event. Unfortunately those are chef planning skills not road trip ones. I planned a route on my Illinois/Indiana map, but she was navigating and ad-libbed a different route as we went. Somewhere about this time I realized that Big Sis also jut pulls time estimates out of her ass, as she called the brewmaster and promised "We’ll be there in a half hour" at the very moment we had no idea where we were. . Soon we started talking about getting a room and staying the night because the trip was taking so long. We were all hungry and cranky but committed to waiting until we got to the brewery to eat dinner.
Four hours and forty-five minutes from when we started, we saw the sign for Upland. One minute later, we saw the "Thanks for visiting Upland" one. We had seen no brewery. We stopped. Big Sis got on the phone. When she asked directions, the color drained out of her face. "Give me the map," she said.
Upland is on the Eastern side of Indiana. Unfortunately, it turns out that the Upland Brewery is in Bloomington Indiana, further south, but most of the state west of where I had just spent nearly five hours driving us to. Big Sis had never actually looked up where the brewery was. I don’t even know how she knew there was an Upland Indiana. We drove back to Gas City and ate at Cracker Barrel. Then we drove five hours back to Chicago through a white-knuckle rainstorm..
Little Sis and I planned our revenge the whole way home. We had no idea our opportunity would come so soon.
The Mars Cheese Castle is conveniently located in Kenosha directly on the way from Chicago to Milwaukee where we drove the next day for the Cheese conference. We stopped so I could gather souvenirs for my co-workers. We didn’t expect to find a small, pink, stuffed-animal unicorn with white fluffy and glittery cuffs.* As a bonus it smelled like strawberries. Well, chemical strawberry at least. We told Big Sis that she had to buy it, name it "Upland", and explain to everyone why she was carrying it around. Big Sis is not a stuffed animal type of woman. She’s gruff and loud, semi-rural and functionally dressed. Big Sis refused, laughed, and hid it behind some cheesehead top hats.
I distracted Big Sis while Little Sis bought it. When we got to our room at the Milwaukee Hilton, Little Sis stuffed it in Big Sis’s handbag. We headed down to the lobby already filling with some of America’s finest cheesmakers and some of America’s most annoying pretentious jerks. We just wanted a drink but it was clear we’d have to schmooze out way through.
It was on. We were set upon and separated. Hand-shakers and back patters were everywhere. I managed to keep Big Sis in sight because I knew what was going to happen. Sure enough, a potential client introduced himself to her, offering a business card. Big Sis went for hers, unzipping the bag. The smelly pink unicorn popped out. Big Sis screamed.
She had thought she had somehow stolen it from the Cheese Castle until it dawned on her that the truth was even worse. We told the story loudly to those nearby and gave her a warning. "Big Sis, if Upland gets ‘lost’, there will be another Upland. And he will be even more grotesque."
Just then another siege of cheese folks emptied from the elevator. We couldn’t hold our positions but as I got further and further away, I was satisfied to see Upland’s head still sticking out of Big Sis’s bag as she schmoozed her way to the bar. Upland drew curious glances and crinkled noses. Upland was onhand for the party Big Sis hosted, for every meal we ate, and even joined the display at the Festival of Cheese. Everywhere Upland went the story was told. The story of Upland will live forever.
*Yes, that is Upland as my new user icon. He’s sitting on a wheel of Vella Mezzo Secco. Made in Sonoma like the sisters I traveled with.
They had the Big Sister/Little Sister dynamic going for them and since I am the youngest in my family, but 10 years older than Little Sis, I could easily play both sides of the fence. We’ll just leave it at the fact that we all had about 10 different nicknames for each other by the time I drove Big Sister to the airport. An example: Big Sister likes to point and wave her finger while she chooses her words. This drives little Sis crazy in the way only something that has been happening one’s entire life can. She snapped early on, yelling at Big Sis, "What are you trying to say, Pointy? C’mon spit it out. What’s up Waggles? Use your words." Besides Pointy and Waggles, the nicknames Boozy, Nubbin, Sweet Tip and Flash Tattoo were used repeatedly.
The most enduring of our travel stories deserves to be told, however. Our first day in Chicago, Big Sis really wanted to drive to Upland Indiana and go to the Upland Brewery. She had met the brewmaster at the Micro-brewery conference where she had given a workshop on cheese and beer pairings. Me and Little Sis hemmed and hawed, preferring to stay in the city, but eventually gave in when Big Sis promised it was only a 2.5 hour trip and that she would drive home. Big Sis after all, had arranged for my place on a panel that made my conference free and had paid for Little Sis’s ticket to the cheese conference.
Big Sis is not a planner, but I confused her for one because she is, though I love her, kind of a control freak when she puts on an event. Unfortunately those are chef planning skills not road trip ones. I planned a route on my Illinois/Indiana map, but she was navigating and ad-libbed a different route as we went. Somewhere about this time I realized that Big Sis also jut pulls time estimates out of her ass, as she called the brewmaster and promised "We’ll be there in a half hour" at the very moment we had no idea where we were. . Soon we started talking about getting a room and staying the night because the trip was taking so long. We were all hungry and cranky but committed to waiting until we got to the brewery to eat dinner.
Four hours and forty-five minutes from when we started, we saw the sign for Upland. One minute later, we saw the "Thanks for visiting Upland" one. We had seen no brewery. We stopped. Big Sis got on the phone. When she asked directions, the color drained out of her face. "Give me the map," she said.
Upland is on the Eastern side of Indiana. Unfortunately, it turns out that the Upland Brewery is in Bloomington Indiana, further south, but most of the state west of where I had just spent nearly five hours driving us to. Big Sis had never actually looked up where the brewery was. I don’t even know how she knew there was an Upland Indiana. We drove back to Gas City and ate at Cracker Barrel. Then we drove five hours back to Chicago through a white-knuckle rainstorm..
Little Sis and I planned our revenge the whole way home. We had no idea our opportunity would come so soon.
The Mars Cheese Castle is conveniently located in Kenosha directly on the way from Chicago to Milwaukee where we drove the next day for the Cheese conference. We stopped so I could gather souvenirs for my co-workers. We didn’t expect to find a small, pink, stuffed-animal unicorn with white fluffy and glittery cuffs.* As a bonus it smelled like strawberries. Well, chemical strawberry at least. We told Big Sis that she had to buy it, name it "Upland", and explain to everyone why she was carrying it around. Big Sis is not a stuffed animal type of woman. She’s gruff and loud, semi-rural and functionally dressed. Big Sis refused, laughed, and hid it behind some cheesehead top hats.
I distracted Big Sis while Little Sis bought it. When we got to our room at the Milwaukee Hilton, Little Sis stuffed it in Big Sis’s handbag. We headed down to the lobby already filling with some of America’s finest cheesmakers and some of America’s most annoying pretentious jerks. We just wanted a drink but it was clear we’d have to schmooze out way through.
It was on. We were set upon and separated. Hand-shakers and back patters were everywhere. I managed to keep Big Sis in sight because I knew what was going to happen. Sure enough, a potential client introduced himself to her, offering a business card. Big Sis went for hers, unzipping the bag. The smelly pink unicorn popped out. Big Sis screamed.
She had thought she had somehow stolen it from the Cheese Castle until it dawned on her that the truth was even worse. We told the story loudly to those nearby and gave her a warning. "Big Sis, if Upland gets ‘lost’, there will be another Upland. And he will be even more grotesque."
Just then another siege of cheese folks emptied from the elevator. We couldn’t hold our positions but as I got further and further away, I was satisfied to see Upland’s head still sticking out of Big Sis’s bag as she schmoozed her way to the bar. Upland drew curious glances and crinkled noses. Upland was onhand for the party Big Sis hosted, for every meal we ate, and even joined the display at the Festival of Cheese. Everywhere Upland went the story was told. The story of Upland will live forever.
*Yes, that is Upland as my new user icon. He’s sitting on a wheel of Vella Mezzo Secco. Made in Sonoma like the sisters I traveled with.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 08:46 am (UTC)Did you happen to see 69 Liquors on your drive through the hell that is rural Indiana? Priceless.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:09 am (UTC)so which is more racist, Denny's or Cracker Barrel? Has anyone done a study?
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:57 am (UTC)I'd guess that Cracker Barrel is differently racist, not so much in hiring or customer (dis)service directly as in locating stores so that both likely audience and likely staff will be
crackerswhite folks.Gas City is not too far from Fairmount, Indiana, which is the home of James Dean. I did a bunch of home visits there, and I therefore have a hard time imagining Morrissey filming a video there and not getting his ass kicked. It's that kinda town.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 11:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 04:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 08:47 am (UTC)You are an evil, evil man. >:)
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 08:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 11:06 am (UTC)Union organizers sleep on a lot of acquantances' couches. And have plenty of them spend nights on their couches. If dad were single and you changed that to "I'm an worker-owned cooperative activist internet friend of your son's", you'd probably be in liky flynn. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 09:23 am (UTC)Thanks as well for the link to the Mars Cheese Castle!
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:13 am (UTC)and the Mars Cheese Castle is a very special place. People had told me about it, but I had forgotten until I saw the sign.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-06 04:20 am (UTC)There are times I truly miss the Midwest just because I think the goofy-meter reads extra high there. (1)
(1) See Frankenmuth, the Land of Eternal Christmas, The House on The Rock, the Indiana State Trooper Tim McCarthy from Notre Dame football games and bizarre homemade commercials for things like Carpet World.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-06 07:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 11:09 am (UTC)It is no doubt a shameful marker of southern roots that if I could eat the food without consequence to my health, I would probably eat at Cracker Barrell more than any other restaurant.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-06 04:22 am (UTC)(and my favorite anti-ironic white trash chic piece of graffitti that was circling Boston "Trucker Caps Suck, Dude".)
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 10:54 am (UTC)heh heh. she wanted to go because they were especially nice folks.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 11:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 01:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-04 06:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 11:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 02:44 pm (UTC)oh well.
i'm sure i can visit his relatives at the cheese castle.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 12:16 pm (UTC)Wow. I'm so in love with the bunch of you.
And for reasons too complicated for me to me to explain with a few glasses of pinot grigiot in me, I wish I could throw a party so you could meet
no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 01:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 01:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 01:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 01:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 02:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-03 02:05 pm (UTC)Evil Genius
Date: 2004-08-03 06:19 pm (UTC)Hi-Larious!
Date: 2004-08-03 06:23 pm (UTC)On another note, I noticed your music selection and feel compelled to tell you that the next burlesque # I am doing is The Cramps covering "The Way I Walk" by Hank Williams Sr.
PS. October in Seattle, is it? I forget.
xoxox,
Bee
no subject
Date: 2004-08-04 01:10 am (UTC)Now I'm having flashbacks to my move from Syracuse to Denver, in which I let
Your revenge is perfection, however.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-04 07:04 pm (UTC)i did mine in brooklyn on my way to a long caribbean catholic wedding with like 18 attendants. which though two hours long took place completely without us.
i can't tell you how angry i was.
upland rules.