Before I get into this week’s regularly schedule tomfoolery (another travelog! Fa!), a quick announcement for my LA peeps. We are screening our feature film TALLYWACKER as part of Dances With Films: LA on Thursday June 27 at 9:30pm at the TCL Chinese Theatre in Hollywood! We are excited to be back at DWF and hope you can come out and join the cast and crew for the screening. Tickets are available HERE.
Ok! Now on to the shenanigans!
After a few weeks in Boston for IFF Boston, it was time for the natural next step: a weekend in St. Louis! Right? Because… St. Louis!
See? It’s St. Louis!
Why St. Louis? Good question! So I have this group of buddies from high school. Once a year, we spend a long weekend together, leaving behind our families and vastly different lives of being a freelance writer (that’s me), zookeeper, tech wizard, video game honcho, and member of the witness protection program. Each year, we visit a different place, sometimes based on where the Red Sox happen to be playing that weekend. This year, the Sox were playing the Cardinals so we ended up in St. Louis!
Yup! It’s still St. Louis!
Luckily for me, my flight from Boston to St. Louis wasn’t nearly as harrowing as my last airline experience. Travel-wise, it was a fairly uneventful trip. But things got a little weird once I hit the ground. When I got off the flight, I went straight to the bathroom, as is my custom. The guy next to me at the urinal turned to me with a big smile.
Guy: “Are you home or are you visiting?”
Me: “Um… I’m visiting.”
Guy: “Have a great time!”
And then he just… walked away. What the fuck, right? You’re going to hit me with that level of non-ulterior enthusiasm right off the bat, St. Louis? As a Bostonian, friendliness creeps me out. But having spent the last almost four years in southern California, I’m at least a little more used to strangers starting friendly conversations. Still - I wasn’t prepared for “Midwestern airport urinal” friendly. It was very unnerving.
But this trip wasn’t about urinal chats! It was about baseball! The mighty mighty Boston Red Sox were in town, so it was time for me and the crew to hit Busch Stadium!
I wasn’t lying about witness protection.
The experience at Busch Stadium was terrific. A great ballpark with friendly staff and fun fans. This was not a surprise - I know enough Cardinal fans to know how seriously they take their baseball out there. It was top notch all the way. Cardinal fans like to be called “classy,” so there you go! You’re the best fans in baseball! Are you happy now, you insecure inferiority complex-having freaks?
Can’t you just smell the America?
While the St. Louis baseball experience was world class, the Uber rides were a wildcard. Here are a few highlights:
Hector, green Toyota Sienna. Hector was wearing a Yankees cap and we were all in Sox gear, so we started out with a little good-natured joshing about that. Then, he spent the entire ride going 30mph in the right lane of the freeway while everyone honked at us. “Sorry - my transmission is shot.” Did I mention it was the middle of a flash flood rainstorm? Terrifying!
Tammy, blue Honda Odyssey with a cracked windshield. Tammy told us that she was a former middle school teacher in an at-risk school in the neighborhood in which she grew up (Tammy is black, which will matter later in the story). She told us how she left the school system because of all the corruption and blatant misuse of funds by the administration. “That’s why I’m voting Republican.” Huh?
When we asked her why, she said that she believes in vouchers to get kids out of those schools. But what about funding those schools better and improving them? Tammy said, “It doesn’t matter how much money you throw at at-risk schools because the parents aren't involved like they are in richer communities. Without the parents there to fight for their kids, the administration will do whatever they want with that money and things won’t get better.” I’ve got to say - I’ve never considered that aspect of things. It was an interesting take. Turns out - talking to different people? Kind of a good idea.
As we exited the van to our destination, Tammy said “You guys have to hold these black men accountable!” Yes. A group of middle aged, privileged white guys should make it our mission to hold black men accountable. Nothing could go wrong with that idea, Tammy!
“Tammy sent us!”
Luckily, Tammy dropped us off at Pappy’s Smokehouse. Multiple St. Louis experts had told us that this was the spot for ribs. Rarely do recommendations like this live up to expectations, but I must say: eating the ribs at Pappy’s was a borderline religious experience. The best BBQ I’ve had in my life by far… and it’s not even close. I can almost taste the sweet pork and beans and tangy potato salad and the sticky, perfectly spiced ribs that just fall off the bone… you’re going to have to give me a minute here.
Not pictured - my ribs-induced erection
But what about my time with my friends? Whenever we come back from one of these trips, our loved ones ask “What did you guys talk about?” It’s… hard to explain. We’ve got thirty-plus years of history with each other, so the conversations are bits build on bits build on bits. We try to convey them to our loved ones, but after a few minutes outsiders just get bored and confused. How can I explain why a parody song to the tune of “Splish Splash” about me getting my dick ripped off in a bathtub is funny? I can’t! Have you heard the expression “You had to be there”? It’s more like “You’ve had to be there for the last thirty years.” And trust me - you didn’t want to be there. But I love these motherfuckers.
Someday we’ll find a cure for Face Pixelation Syndrome (FPS).
As I left St. Louis, I had one more Uber treat left!
Nadja, black Nissan Sentra. St. Louis saved the best for last for me. I asked Nadja how her day was going so far. She responded “Good! No crazies yet today!” I laughed and then immediately got Nadja’s theories on:
Beyonce is now with the devil because Jay-Z thinks he’s Jesus. “Jay-Z? J.C.? It’s obvious.”
The government is trying to kill Kanye by giving him psychological medication.
It wasn’t P. Diddy that got arrested. It was a look-a-like that he hired and she could tell because he doesn’t have a mole on his face.
“Uh oh. Nadja’s on to me!”
I thought about correcting her that P. Diddy hasn’t actually been arrested yet and it’s all civil suits, but I decided that facts had no place in this Uber ride. I was going to enjoy one last gift from the beautiful city of St. Louis. Who can blame me? I did it for the Lou!
Boogie Writes is a completely independent endeavor by one hard-working funnyman trying to make his way in the world today (which takes everything you’ve got.) If you like what you read, please subscribe, support, and tell a friend! Also - do you need advice? Of course you do! Send your queries to brendan@brendanboogie.com with “Dear Boogie” in the subject and get some solid or at least passable advice!
