We're off to see the Grand Canyon. Been in Arizona 6 years and I've never made the trip. This, apparently, is shameful. I did not know this, but it is. I am not a good citizen of the US unless I make a point of visiting some tourist trap teetering on the edge of the largest hole in the continental United States.
I figure the 6 hour trip up, trapped in an economy sedan with the inlaws and my kid, should be penance enough. And the 6 hour trip back should be enough to convince me never to do THAT again.
But then again, I've never seen the Grand Canyon in person before. Perhaps the experience will be epiphanous. Perhaps it will force me to reconsider my entire existence in some joyous moment of rapture. Nah. I'm an American. Unless it has bells, whistles, pretty lights, and a strong dose of sexual inuendo I'm too jaded to be swayed by any of mother nature's crevices.
And now for my rant on Easter grass.
Fuck! This shit is everywhere! I can't get it out of my house! I find it in my kid's hair, in my bed, in my shoe. You don't actually see it...and then suddenly its made another appearance in some undesired local - like herpes!It kills the vacuum. It hides under the couch. And if your pet happens to eat some...well, in the end that is an unpleasant experience for everyone.
And its entire purpose?
It's the baby's breath of holiday crap giving. It's merely colorful filler meant to either set off the glory of your economic largess or camoflage the poverty ridden joke that is your kid's easter basket. I say down with this crap! It's got to be a terror to the environment. I can just imagine the vermin down at the dump dying of severe constipation and malnutrition as they mistakenly try to graze in the verdant fields of simu-vegetation.
Blech. I need to put on my happy pants or this is going to be a hellish day.