Unhitch Those Trailers!

The SJG steps into Foxtrot, owned by the lovely
and persuasive Caroline, who encourages me to buy
two pairs of sassy summer shoes.  

I'm learning so many things during my trip to Lawrence, Kansas.  Such as?  "Unhitch those trailers!" comes courtesy of Cathy's daughter Emily, who says it in the car, apropos of nada.  What the what does it mean?  Pretty much "get a move on."  Well, I love it so much I add my own SJG signature. "Unhitch those trailers, bitches!" just sounds better, don't you think?

Unmasking the essence of T-h-e-a-t-e-r at Theatre Lawrence

At Merchants Pub & Plate: Dan of the Amazing Handlebar Moustache, 

the friendliest waiter in the known universe.

Sometimes the SJG mixes up food names.  Sinatra stands in for
cilantro.  And last night, Fried Oprah subs for Fried Okra.  

My first, and hopefully last visit to a sports bar, where 18 different athletic events compete on giant flat screens.  "Get me out of here," I scream.  "I don't belong here."  Cathy's husband Rex escorts me out of the building and tells me to wait in the car.