The Butts are in the Can

I woke up this morning, ate some breakfast (already a weird morning), packed up my camera and met up with the team to go film the “Annual Mooning of the Amtrak Train”.    Last year, a reported 9,000 people attended this event.  Apparently they caused so much trouble, the businesses in the area got the police involved this year to sit on any potential mooner’s enthusiasm for exposing their less than craptastic derrières.   It’s a long story, but basically, it worked.  The running count was about 300-400 people this year.

Still, the turnout was good enough to document.  After months of prepping her rump (so I hear) for the greatest Dean exposure this side of the US, Jenny delivered in all areas of this event.  She was a great sport through the whole thing.  She was excited to be there which made it really fun.  She also has a knack for carrying on conversations with people that you might never get to know otherwise.  We’ll just leave it at that.

In addition, my nephew Brandon was there to take on the challenge of appalling innocent train passerby’s.  It was great to know we had a hand in corrupting the future of our family.  Can’t you just see the pride in his face?  I am a scary judge of character, and I can tell when people are proud beyond belief.  Brings a tear to my eye.  (one second)  Anyway, Brandon has grown up to be a great guy, and I hope we can torture him some more in the future.

I rode the train at the end of the day to film a quick glimpse at what it would be like to be a passenger and witness such a horrific sight.  The truth is, the train goes so fast that you can’t see anything.  Many people on the train knew it was coming up and watched for it, but most just looked into space as they normally would.  (I’m guessing that’s normal for them.)  In fact, there is probably just enough time to see the mooners to wonder what just happened.  I wouldn’t be surprised if many people have gone crazy at the thought of not knowing what they just thought they understood themselves to probably had not have seen….  or… something like that.

The bar itself was packed with peanuts the whole time we were there.  There was constantly a line out the door.  I got some nice footage of the kinds of people your mother should have warned you about, but don’t judge her for not.  Unless your mom was Large Marge from Peewee’s Big Adventure, she wouldn’t have known how bad it could truly get.

It’s against my better judgement to post this picture of me.  I simply don’t want my name attached to this project.  It’s just downright embarrassing.  Then again, I’m okay with that.  Anyway, I’m hoping Santa’s bar-hopping brother Smacky, sitting comfortably in the back will draw most of your attention.

In a few days I’ll be posting the finished episode on this site, as well as the new “Project: CURIOUS” site.  I’ll keep you posted on that.

When all was said and done, when the heat stroke cleared, the @$$-induced pain in my left eye subsided, the faint smell of odorific emanations lifted, the day was done and it was a great start to the very long journey exploring the curious.  Chalk one up for “Project: CURIOUS.”