Mardi Gras in the Lou

This past weekend was Mardi Gras in the Lou! It was huge, and made even huger by the fact that Jen’s family has an ass-kicking bus that doubles as a float. We were IN the parade! Mardi Gras was not a spectator sport for us. Pics are below.

Before you get disappointed…….there are no pictures of topless women. Beer goes in the left hand; beads are thrown with the right. An amateur mathematician will figure out that leaves no hands for photos. Besides that, any float participant will tell you, being young and attractive is NOT a prerequisite for taking one’s shirt off. Thus, a clear photo of an attractive topless woman in the parade is a tough shot indeed. Plus, what kind of a blog do you think this is???

Mardi Pics

The pics just said about 29,000 words, so in short………I flew in, and first saw Schu, who is living a luxurious life of skiing and refinishing his nifty new home. We all then “decorated” the bus, and the best surprise ever happened when Dre materialized inside Jen’s home. Like David Copperfield.

Delicious Pancakes (Lance) and I threw a bunch of beads to a lot of drunken people. The bus/float was fantastic, and much like a transformer. Soulard was crowded. If you have breasts, and a 2nd story window, I recommend you try stopping traffic. Your power will be amazing.

Somehow, myself, Julie, Jen, Andrew and several others all made it back to the Swinehart household. This is where Jen’s dad really got into his element, and entertained the masses in an award winning performance.

I even got to see my younger brother the next day, although like most elusive Dingos, he does not show up on film.

Of Peyote and Presidents

Perhaps the most glorious weekend of snowboarding this season!

The awesome pics!

Friday revolved around Denver International Airport, which is a funny name for an airport that is so far out of town it should have the word “Kansas” in it. I dropped Jen off so she could see her brother in Chi-town. In return, I picked up John Litten (fellow drummer and former neighbor) who flew in from the Bay Area (LA face, but Oakland booty.)*

Being President’s Day weekend, the entire country was converging upon Colorado for skiing, much like when lemmings run in droves into the ocean. To avoid this rush, John and I awoke at -3 am, injected ourselves with Pete’s Coffee ®, and hit the road. (We did not share a needle, since John is an unclean, dirty whore). We were rewarded with an 80 minute trip (new record!!) and short lift lines at Breckenridge (for a little while). The I-70 Traffic Gods even allowed two friends, Staci and Tyler, to show up soon afterwards. We rode till exhaustion, and retired to a local pub for two of my favorite cocktails: Water for rehydration and beer for dehydration.

Now the two heroes of our story enter the scene. Andy and Katie from KC. They win the hero award because they had the shittiest weekend ever, and still remained in remarkably good spirits. They had awoken at -27 am, flown over Kansas, rented a car, drove through traffic, etc. After learning to ride for hours, and thus falling on her ass 759 times, Katie met us at the pub, and refused strong drink because she is a Buddhist Monk. Andy did not show up until hours later, because he was on the trail of tears with two snowboards walking to overflow parking, 25 miles away. He accepted strong drink.

We then capped the evening off at the Inn of the Arapahoe. The only notable thing about this hotel is that they put peyote on your pillow instead of a mint. I believe we saw fireworks while sitting in the hot-tub. At least, I think I saw fireworks. And a coyote talked to me. In Spanish.

Next day was even better! Free breakfast and a WALK to the lifts at Keystone spelled awesome. Staci decided to “pay-it-forward” and use her beginning snowboarding skills to help young grasshopper (Katie) whilst the rest of rode triple-XXX-double-black-diamonds (without moguls ). After we made the mountain our bitch, Tyler inspired me to attempt the terrain park with stories of his shattered knee and state-of-the-art peg-leg. I landed my first sizable jump, in which I’m pretty sure I went 12 feet into the air. And then saw that damn coyote.

We then retired for two very important covalent molecules, H2O and PBR. Several PBR’s later, our heroes, Andy and Katie finally show up at the pub, and so does Katie’s broken wrist. Que terrible! Katie’s remarkable training held strong as she once again refused strong drink AND the Vicadin she was carrying. It was with regret that our tragic heroes left to return to KC.

The weekend rounded out w/ John and I facing the perils of underage hot-tub sirens (beeswax in the ears man!), sub-zero winds at A-Basin, and a sub-zero house in Denver. I then returned to our starting point, Denver International Airport, traded in John for Jen, and all was back to normal.


* First person to name who that quote is by will get an entire blog entry devoted to them

The Thrilla in Manila

As of late July, all fan mail for myself and Jen will need to be sent to our new home in Manila, (the Philippines). Here’s how it went down.

We arrived late Thursday in the balmy paradise of Waterloo, Iowa (“dub-town”) via plane and shuttle. Early Friday morning, before the fair even started, we found the hotel rooms of two principals from International School of Manila
Ringo and Jen's New School!, International School of Manila
Instead of interviewing us together, they separated us, which allowed me to tell awesome stories about Jen, most notably the story of when she wrestled her friend Jenny in chocolate pudding. Needless to say, my interviewer was impressed. Jen and I were reunited to meet with the Manila superintendent, a friendly Brit known for inserting long uncomfortable silences after you answered his question.

The intense sequence of the job fair was the part where you go to 500 different tables to sign up for schools/countries that you are interested in, and decline invitations from schools/countries you are not interested in. As you can imagine, having the name of “Ringo” makes you a). An enigma (“I was wondering what this Ringo stuff was all about”—Principal of Thailand) or b). Popular (“With a name like that, how could you NOT want to teach in Mexico?” – staff of Mexico). We turned down several invitations and signed up for a few more interviews.

Kenya sounded exotic, but questioned my chemistry skills (haters). Shanghai had the perfect position for Jen but wanted me to teach 18 different classes and be the janitor also. Thailand’s principal had no job for me, but fell in love with Jen, tried to convince us to break up, and offered to name a wing of the school after her. Obviously, I was holding us back.

That evening we went to the candidate/recruiter social. As a reader, you’re probably thinking, “Sweet. This is the part where Ringo ends up going streaking or break dancing to a Lionel Richie song.” You will be disappointed to hear that nothing of the sort happened. I did however feel like a rock star when unfamiliar recruiters would come up and say “Ringo! The physics teacher! Let me talk to you about Saudi Arabia.” I was saved from this particular conversation when the Saudi recruiter asked about my wife. Upon learning that Jen and I will live in sin, he told me good luck with my eternal soul and that I should speak with Bangkok (it makes a hard man crumble).

Seeing that we had drinks in hand, the recruiters from Manila saw that the iron was hot, and called us over to their table. They offered us the positions. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before they Googled mine or Jen’s name (pictures are worth a 1000 lost jobs), we decided to sign quickly. Done. Woooooooooo!

So for Saturday and Sunday we were in Waterloo, Iowa with no car, no responsibility, and shit to do. We walked around the convention center some, but when people are still stressed out interviewing, and you just got hired in 12 hours, no one likes you. So we hung out in our hotel and told ourselves how awesome we were.

Awesome details of the job: I teach physics and Jen teaches middle school English. We get paid about the same as we do in Denver, EXCEPT…..
• We don’t pay taxes.
• The school pays our rent.
• We don’t need a car.
• Cost of living is crazy-go-nuts low (50 cents for a local beer).
• Our flight over and back is paid for.
• It is expected that you will employ a maid. Wow.

This is the time during the blog, when, if I were clever enough, the “Movin’ on up” song from The Jefferson’s would play. Please sing this in your head, and Gants will email me on how to make this happen in the future.

I think we leave in July sometime.