Happy Easter Weekend

A few years ago, I took the passenger seat out of my Z, and took my greyhound from Chicago to South Haven, MI for a Lemons race. (caution: language) https://youtu.be/PHXCyyFVQWA It was all great until I headed back Saturday night to be with the family. The adjustable control arm on the Z came loose, and quickly destroyed my brand new front tires. Luckily, one blew a cord, and I had to pull over before the LCA fell off. Had to sit at a truck stop at night with nothing open, with a dog, and an un-towably low car. Our exhausted Lemons team had to unload the race car from the trailer, and come get me. Into the early morning hours, we crunched logistics. I scoured up some nasty/wrong size tires, mounted them myself, and fixed the car. Left first thing in the morning before I was in danger of being served divorce papers.

Easter weekend started on Thursday with a death drive from Boston to Philadelphia, along with every other family in the northeastern United States. It was long slogs of stop and go traffic through New York City, the George Washington Bridge, gagging from the sulfur smells of Elizabeth, New Jersey, a rest stop at the Molly Pitcher Rest Area on the Jersey Turnpike, and falling asleep in the backseat around Trenton. It was in a '75 Chrysler Newport (yes, the electronic ignition system that didn't work when it snowed, rained, after a car wash, fog, moisture above 30%) or a '77 Caprice Classic B-Body wagon brown with faux wood panels and a big V8. Both had vinyl seats, the big Chrysler was in a god awful puke green, the Caprice was tan. It was waking up in the morning to my two right out of Normal Rockwell Hungarian grandparents (father side), a plate full of homemade Hungarian pastries that exceed all expectations in your mind, playing with a Lionel train set they kept for my visits, and wandering a neighborhood in Philadelphia. It was trips to my Aunt Irene's house in Bucks County for Easter dinner and dying eggs on Saturday, with the couch covered in plastic. It was seeing my older cousins, and then on Sunday it was sandwiches made by grandma from left overs, on white squishy bread, wrapped perfectly in wax paper. It was then another death drive back to Boston, with the rest of the entire population of the Northeastern United States. The seemingly FOREVER drive across Connecticut (to this day, Connecticut seems to swell to the size of Montana when I drive across it) and falling asleep in the backseat somewhere around Hartford.

Strangely the religious obsessed Yanks don't get an extra day off at Easter so no road trips down here.

I don't recall any recent Easter outings, and I know Mom and I didn't go anywhere (because she didn't drive -- and doesn't to this day), but I can tell you how I'll be spending this Easter weekend: Rock Chalk Jayhawk KU at KFC Yum Center in Louisville! It'll be my first time attending an NCAA Elite Eight game, or any NCAA March Madness game, for that matter!