New goal. I’m going to visit every state’s Grand Canyon. On my way to a show on Saturday I stopped at the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon. While not exactly grand, it was good enough. And even better, when you hit a marginal tourist attraction in the off-season’like February 28th’you’re the only one there! No lines. I could have filled in the canyon with dirt, making it The Pennsylvania Great Plains and nobody would have known until Memorial Day.
I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never been to “the” Grand Canyon and I’m even more embarrassed to say that I didn’t know where The Grand Canyon is until recently. For an American history buff, it was tough to swallow. On a flight for a week of shows in Vegas, the pilot informed us that those of us on the right side of the plane had a wonderful view of The Grand Canyon. If I were the pilot, I would have said the starboard side of the plane because I once took a tour of The Naval Academy, and not the Pennsylvania Naval Academy. For some reason I thought The Grand Canyon was somewhere closer to where The Battle of Wounded Knee was. As far as I know, Pennsylvania has no knock-off of The Battle of Wounded Knee so save yourself a trip.
So that’s my new goal. Every state’s Grand Canyon. I hate lines. Can you imagine how short the line is for the Kansas Grand Canyon? I can be in and out in fifteen minutes. Or maybe they have a drive though line. I’ll never have to get out of my Honda. Or maybe they have a McDonald’s at the Kansas Grand Canyon with a drive through line. I can knock off my lunch order and the canyon view in one circuit. In the time it once took me to wait at the Back to the Future ride at Universal Studios, I could probably cover all of the mid-west.
There’s a farmer near the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon who has long horn steers. I guess it is part of the western theme. They’re cool looking animals. I like any movie with a cattle drive. Years ago as an acting audition piece I memorized the monologue from the trail boss in the cattle drive scene from Centennial. Here’s something I learned. A monologue about how to handle ornery steers from a TV mini-series that ran thirty years ago is probably not the absolute best showcase of your talent and vision when you’re reading for a part on The Sopranos.
A few years ago, I saved a cow’s life leaving Sackets Harbor, NY. No I did not get off of it. Thank you all for thinking that. I was driving home on a Sunday morning and had to swerve to miss a cow right in the middle of the road. It was early and I had a five-hour drive in front of me so I was going to let the cow get hit by someone else’s car. But then I felt guilty’my mom’s father was a farmer with cattle and horses’so I u-turned and knocked on the closest house I could find. The farmer came out and shooed the cow back into the pasture. I felt great. I did a good deed. I’d saved that cow’s life. But after about twenty minutes it dawned on me. I didn’t save that cow’s life. I re-sentenced him to death. He made it out. He was like Steve McQueen in the great escape. It was a beef cow not a milker. He’s there waiting for his cow underground railroad to come by and pick him up. “What’s the password”? Utter? “Get in! And keep your snout down. We’ll be in Canada by breakfast.” That disappointed cow thinking: doesn’t this guy know how hard it is to pick a lock with hooves?
I like long horns but I love buffalos. I don’t know why. I like reading about them. I like the Frederick Remington buffalo artwork. I like looking at them. I like eating them. Low fat. Low cholesterol. Meaty taste. How can you beat it? Some day I’d like to have a little place in the country where I can raise a few buffalo, look at them, and then eat them.
I’ve tried to get my dad to eat buffalo. He’s concerned about his cholesterol so he refuses to eat red meat now. He will eat all the sausage you put in front of him but somehow that’s different. If you can pack it in animal’s intestine, he’ll like it. Wait, that doesn’t sound right.
To me buffalos (scientific name Bison bison’what is more Jewish then over-thinking and doubling up for affect) are the Jews of the animal kingdom. Thin ankles with thick haunches. Maybe that’s why I like them so much? You can try to get rid of them but they keep coming back. Just like us. Plus they’re hairy.