HIPPO BRIGADE

The Great Northwest Part II

August 14, 2009

So we packed up our bags, said farewell to the rococo, and set out North, to Seattle.

We flew this tiny plane and if the propreller wasn’t so loud, everyone on the plane could probably hear me screaming, “OH SHIT! WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!”.

I don’t like flying. I think it’s god damn miracle I don’t dissolve into flames every time the plane takes off. I mean, a giant piece of metal weighing hundreds of thousands of pounds is flying through the air? Like a frickin bird? Nope. It does not make any sense in my mind. But there are a lot of things that don’t make sense in my mind, like how television works, and algebraic equations, so that’s not saying very much.

But it was a miracle, because we made it to Seattle without dissolving into flames.

Yay!

The first thing we did was head down to Pike’s Market because we’re goofy tourists who love looking at frozen fish and how cheese is made.

Then we met up with our favorite traveling friends, Ty and Rhea.

We loaded into their rented Hyundai Accent for some car sickness and toured different parts of the city.

I saw a wall filled with chewed gum.

And then I saw a telephone pole wearing a sweater.

We drove through idyllic tree lined neighborhoods that had houses that looked like this:

When we drove past the people that lived inside these houses we would scream out the window at them, “How does it feel to have the perfect life?!”

Then young Billy, playing basketball in the driveway would yell back, “I HATE MY DAD!”

And then we’d realize that these people have problems too, only their problems are prettier than ours.

We loved Seattle, we loved the beauty of the city, and I would be thrilled to live there for the rest of my life. Only I’d probably be depressed the whole time because of the constant rain and my family and friends living so far away. I’d just sit inside my perfect 1914 craftsman bungalow and cry into my coffee while Berlyn played basketball in the driveway.

And then people would yell out their car window that my life is perfect, and I’d add more kahula to my coffee.

And smile.