Tales From the Trail

So Monday night I had one of the best nights in a looong time.  I surprised my 13  year old daughter, Kristi, with tickets to Pentatonix.  If you don't know who Pentatonix is, shame on you.  Go to Youtube and be amazed.

On the way home - and this is an honest to God true story - we were recapping the concert and talking about "stuff".  Somehow, the conversation went like this (and before I regale you, you need to understand that Kristi has become obsessed with playing "The Oregon Trail".  Apparently it's a web based game that actually teaches the youth of America life skills like critical thinking and money management.)

On the drive home we passed a building with the letters NSA on them.  So Kristi makes the comment that the government is in that building, watching our every move.  "If you didn't already know, I am totally anti-government," she said.  Yeah, I had a feeling.  So I made a comment about her removing herself from society and living alone.

"My goal," she said in response, "is to have a covered wagon led by oxen and go on The Oregon Trail to . . . Oregon."  (I SWEAR to you this conversation really took place).

I responded "Well, that would certainly get you on the news as they follow you across the country on your way to Oregon."

"I would have my oxen scare off the reporters so they would leave me alone," Kristi said.

And from there I decided to verbally imagine what the news report would sound like.

Carol (in the studio) - We now go live to Bob who is following a story somewhere out west.

Bob (on location) - Thank you Carol!  We are following a covered wagon led by a team of oxen.  The driver's name is Kristi and it appears that she is headed toward a remote cabin in Oregon where she will be meeting up with her followers - Kristi-ites. 

*Kristi (in the car) starts laughing out loud with the occasional "oh my god" thrown in*

Carol - Bob, have you been able to ask Kristi what her intentions are?

Bob - Not exactly.  Every time we approach her she gives her oxen a command in some foreign tongue that causes the oxen to begin to attack us.  We're not sure what language she's using, we've taken to calling it Kristiphonics.  I think she created the language so only she can communicate with the oxen. 

*Kristi (in the car) narrowly misses  hitting her head on the dashboard as she doubles over in laughter.  Don't call DCFS, this is NOT my fault!*

Bob - We are currently in Montana.  It looks like she will be passing through the tall stick part of Idaho where she will pick up a few potatoes for her, her oxen and the Kristi-ites and then make her way to the remote cabin in Oregon.

Carol - Bob!  This is an amazing story!  How do you know her destination is Oregon?

Bob - Well, Carol, we have an advance team of reporters that have spotted the remote cabin, largely because the Kristi-ites are sitting in a field, holding their cellphones aloft with the flashlight feature on, creating a large luminescent bon fire for Kristi and the oxen to drive towards.  As they await their leader's arrival, they are humming and singing, a cappella, a Kumbuya type of song in their Kristiphonics communication.

*Kristi (in the car) gasping for breath, holding her hands over her mouth to prevent spitting while laughing*

Carol - Bob, do you or the advance team appear to be in any danger?

Bob - Carol we haven't been attacked - aside from the surly oxen - if that's what you mean.  Though we do have reports from the government that they are concerned that Kristi is transporting many years worth of munitions to fortify herself and the Kristi-ites as they plan to establish what we have now learned to be a new religion of goat worship.  Apparently they are establishing "Goatism" where in they meet on the second Tuesday of every June.  They need to keep it simple because, well, goats are simple.

*Kristi - there may have been a snort*

Carol - Bob, for the love of god . . . or goat, please be careful and report back to us if you hear anything new.

Bob - Thank you Carol.  We're keeping an eye on things.  Back to you in the studio.