A couple of weeks ago a friend and I took a trip down the Blue Ridge Parkway, one of the premier motorcycle roads on the east coast. Rather than recount the entire trip here, you can follow the link for the ride report at Adventure Rider.

Categories: Travel
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My friends and fellow Americans, I usually keep politics off of PatandMeg.com, but there’s one issue that’s just too important to ignore. It’s an issue that has been keeping me awake at night, and one that the press and both candidates have attempted to cover up, in what can only be described as a vast middle-wing conspiracy. It is time we as Americans stop sitting on the sidelines while the fat cats in Washington trample the little guy. It’s time we institute comprehensive reform to rid ourselves of the scourge of… Main St/Wall St references!

Perhaps I’m the only one that thanks our forefathers for a right to bear arms each time I hear “It’s time for those fatcats in <DC/Congress/CEO Suites/Paris Hilton’s Underwear Drawer/boardrooms/New York City/London/Frankfurt/Jimmy Hoffa’s Basement> to stop thinking about Wall St. and start thinking about Main St!!!! (insert applause track here).” I started seriously contemplated parking my noggin in front of a 12-guage by the 3984729^thtime I heard a Wall St/Main St reference. The gimmick was cute the first time I heard it. In case you’ve lived in a cave (apparently a cave with an internet connection since you’re here) I’ll break it down for you. See there are all these eeeeeeevil white guys in suits on Wall St, and they traipsed down to Main Streets in wholesome towns like Scranton and Peoria in their Mabach Benzes. They drove over puppies and killed cute kittens and made everyone take bad mortgages, when all everyone on Main St. ever wanted was a house with 6 98″ plasma TV’s bought on credit and a bunch of crap from Wal*Mart they couldn’t really afford. The nice politicians in both parties all tried to stop them by encouraging the government to back all the silly mortgages, but when the whole house of cards came crashing down, the white guys in suits we’re the easiest to blame, and made for the best soundbites, so here we are, with Main St getting pummeled by stupid soundbites brought on by fast and loose play on Wall St.

I’m preparing to file my own bid for President, where we’ll institute a comprehensive bailout program for those Americans who find themselves drowning in Main St/Wall St references. The Federal Government will purchase preferred shares in any media outlet that can go for more than 23 seconds without a Main St/Wall St reference, and finally rid our streets and cities of the evils of high-powered Main St/Wall St assault-style soundbites. This common-sense legislation will turn our homes and workplaces back into decent public spaces, where any American can live and work free from the fear of another Main St/Wall St reference. My two opponents have found themselves in the pockets of lobbyists and special interests, and I have shocking footage of them repeatedly associating with Main St/Wall St references. For the safety of our children, and our children’s children, and our children’s children’s children’s children’s children, we must act now.

I’m Pat of PatandMeg.com, and I approved this message.

Categories: Humor
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It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a good travel rant, and after a long (and delightful) absence from the friendly skies, Monday morning marked my return to that ethereal entity know as “the road.” I’ve picked up a new client that promises some interesting international travel, but the experience kicked off with a trip to the decidedly non-international area known as “north Houston,” a stone’s throw from the airport.

I was relieved to find a Sheraton near the client site, but rebuffed by Starwood’s website as the red lettering informed me, in no uncertain terms, that the hotel was fully booked due to the flood of construction workers helping rebuild damaged buildings left in Hurricane Ike’s wake. Orbitz informed me, much to my dismay, that my only option was the Clarion Inn. I generally have a no-Inn travel policy, but in this case, it was the Clarion or a park bench.

The motel itself was OK, and the cheerful check-in agent informed me there was a “Shopping Center” next door with myriad dining options (he didn’t actually use the word myriad, but the small ghetto blaster behind the desk playing “All up in the Club” inspired me to class up his act). After depositing my suitcase, I sauntered over to the “Shopping Center” with visions of grandeur. The shopping center was a strip mall, the anchor store, JFK Liquors, presumably playing a humble tribute to the fallen president. It was flanked by an anonymous Chinese Food place, and a pizza joint featuring an all-you-can-eat $5.99 buffet. Hoping for healthier options further afield, I continued my walk to find a Taco Bell and Jack in the Box. I hung my head as I traded haute cuisine on the Champs d’Elysses for Mr. in the Box, opting for a chicken strip salad.

My next trip remains a mystery, but hopefully will not involve any more Jack in the Box!

Categories: Travel
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