Road Trip

Today I met up with my blogging buddy Vicki.  We were just going to meet and have lunch, but then she asked if I would like to take a road trip with her.  Of course, I was ready, willing and able.  Plus, I know that if I go places I might find blogging opportunities.  

Was There Ever!!!

She decided to take me to her old stomping grounds.  It's a small town here in Utah.  I had never been there so I was up for it.  Let me tell you something.  Vicki has not led a boring life.  Oh no.  But that's for her to tell, not me.  

We drove into town and she was pointing out old boarded up houses that she had lived in.  We got to the other end of town and came upon the cemetery.  We pull in and the first thing I see is this.

BIG DEAL

That was the name the towns people called the guy that is buried there.  He worked in a mine, didn't have a wife or kids, and one day didn't show up to the bar or work, I can't remember which she told me.  The men in town pooled all their money, buried him and had that grave marker made.  I thought that was awesome.

Then we headed up a road.  She pulls in front of a plot.  She says to me, "now you know why I wanted to go on a road trip".  I had already known that she had lost 2 of her children.  We get out of the car and this is what I see.

Today was the anniversary of the death of her daughter.  I was so honored to share such a moment with her today.  She is one, brave, awesome woman.  I can't even fathom burying one child, let alone two.  We talked for a little bit, and then we went driving around some more.  She knew so many people there, and had stories to tell me about them.

I also learned that if you go over a grate when entering a cemetery, you are supposed to honk, because the trolls are hanging onto the grates, and if you don't honk, you will drive over their fingers.  Ummm, I think, don't honk, and hurt the things.  They are kind of icky.  In my honest opinion. :)

She showed me some ghost towns, and a ghost mine that they are starting to mine again with a skeleton crew.  I couldn't help but say to her, "well, yeah, it makes sense to have a skeleton crew working a ghost mine".  bwaa-haa-haa.

We finally made our way into Provo, and decided that since we had been out for 5 hours, it was time to eat.  We stopped at Sizzler because, well, they have an awesome salad bar.  We get our food, are having more conversation about our lives and a family came in with a older mentally handicapped child.  They were sitting in a far off corner, away from the salad bar.  This man/child was roaming around, making flying noises.  That didn't bother me.  I just kept thinking, where is his mom.  I know with young children, when they get antsy, you have to keep an eye on them, go and get them and bring them back to the table.  His mom never did that.  

Vicki and I were sitting rather close to the salad bar.  I was the lucky one that was facing the salad bar/soup and dessert bar/opening to the kitchen area.  All of the sudden I look up and see this.

Notice where his arms and hands are.  I know the photo isn't the best, but you know, hurry and shoot with your phone camera.  What is he doing?  Oh-m-gee.  He is scratching his butt.  Not once, not twice, not three times.  No, he stood there for a good 10-15 minutes scratching.  

But, that wasn't all he was doing.  

Hold on to your dinner.  

He would pull his hands out and proceed to do, the finger smell............

(the finger smell is portrayed by Dazee)

Yes, it was sick and wrong.  Sick and fracking wrong people. 

He was standing by the open salad bar.  Out of the sight of his mom.  I kept trying to look away.  I slid all the way to the side of the table so I didn't have to see.  I kept thinking he would finish his business.  

I might not be able to go to a Sizzler for a while.  That's just a memory I don't want in my brain.

Oh, yeah, sorry.  I've just put the image in your brain.

You're Welcome.