Better than a slide show!

Tonight I reveal my Cancer Roadtrip Re-Cap, in Two Parts!  It does not have any of the Cancer Movie Moments I had so hoped to capture but it does have a close approximation to them.  Either way I had a hell of a good time.

Tuesday, August 9th - The World's Youngest Ever Lieutenant Colonel (he may make General before this post is through) and I head for Manchester, NH.  Weather is spotty for the FisherCats game, we've got a cooler filled with beer for The Rear Admiral and four little red wine bottles for me.  We pre-game at the hotel.  I manage to sip down a single serving of vino.  I don't feel comfortable revealing how much my traveling companion had since he's an upstanding member of the military and his wife reads the blog.  I will point out that I finagled the keys away from the good Colonel but only after hearing how he has flown multi-million dollar planes far drunker then now.  The rain held off, the FisherCats lost to Erie and the Colonel staggered through the stands trying to pick fights with children. 

*A few of those last parts may have not really happened. 

Wednesday August 10th - We hit the road early with Mohegan Sun in our sites.  We check in to The Spa of Norwich (an extremely romantic find for two dudes.  Thank you, Priceline) and hit the casino Race Book.  Cocktail waitresses are scarce plus the bartender keeps track of how long it's been since your last one. Telling The General's Brother who drove down to join us (no relation to the John Travolta stinker The General's Daughter) to come back in twenty for his next freebe six ounce beer.  Six whole ounces!  You shouldn't have.  We hit a couple of winners, splitting up about seventy bucks in winnings.  One ticket could have been a 1500.00 payday if we'd played the superfecta but hey, no guts no glory.  The Commandant ordered several strangers to drop and give him twenty in response to the loss.  He's crazy with power, I tell ya.

After gorging ourselves at the moderately priced but well stocked buffet we hit the craps table.  It was a star studded event.  We had Corsican Albert Finney, Senile Jerry Adler, Charismaless Billy Shatner, his unhappy wife (Caucasian Uhura?), and an Undershirted Lester from The Wire on what can only be described as The Heater of his otherwise totally unlucky life.  Lester from The Wire was betting huge on the Don't and looking back it's stunning that no one joined him.  This table was so cold you could have chiseled an ice slide in it for vodka shots.  Despite it all I grounded out a five dollar windfall before calling it a night around 1:30am.  The General made it back to the room closer to three, rambling about single-handedly crushing Communism and threatening to put me on KP duty.

Part Two Tomorrow!