Virginia is for lovers, Kentucky is for lesbians

Sooooo driving through a new state is always interesting, looking at the different road signs for various towns, trying to figure out the origins, etc. For example, North Carolina has tons of Indian names, and it's pretty easy to figure out where towns like Cherokee got their name.

So Kentucky was obviously founded by horny pioneers with an oral fetish. I've never in my life seen so many signs for towns with "Lick" in the name. We drove through Paint Lick on our Deliverance-inspired trek to the Belterra casino and Resort, and saw signs for several others, including the best of them all - Big Bone Lick. How do you, as a teenager, tell friends in your freshman college orientation that you hail from Big Bone Lick, Kentucky? It's even worse when you realize that Kentucky abbreviates to KY.

So it took a little longer than the advertised 8 hours, 14 minutes, thanks to a wife with a bladder the size of a shot glass and a meal at Sagebrush in Newport, TN that was slower than molasses trying to run uphill in January. We also got the stereotypical late start, in part due to a quote I had to get done for a project at work, in part due to the fact that I stayed up past 2AM the night before playing World of Dorkcraft, and in part due to the fact that I'm married. To a woman.

I might be sorry for stereotyping women as taking forever to get ready to go anywhere, but if things weren't based in truth, they'd never become stereotypes. Note - when it was time to leave, I carried out my overnight back and backpack. It is, after all, a three-day trip, so the backpack was warranted if for nothing other than to keep my reader updated on the journey. Suzy comes down with her rolling suitcase, a purse, a pillow, her makeup bag, her bag of nail supplies, and her bag of hair stuff (all of which I consolidated into one duffel bag).

So we got on the road at 3:30 instead of my hoped-for noon departure, then we stopped once before dinner, then stopped twice after dinner. Two tanks of gas later, we got off I-75 just outside of Cincinnati, heading off into the hinterlands of East Bumblefuck, Kentucky, where I swear I saw burning crosses and could hear Ned Beatty squealing in the distance. After a slightly harrowing 30-minute ride, we pulled up into the Belterra driveway to be met by Dave, the valet.

The only valet.

Now this place is nice, don't get me wrong. And I understand that it was 1AM on a Thursday night/Friday morning, but the lone valet and the lack of bellhopage led me to wonder about the "tourist" designation that this joint bestowed on itself. Not to worry, once we got into the place and got room squared away, I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the lodgings. The room is freakin' sweet, as my homey Peter Griffin would say,and the bathroom positively ginormous (officially now a word, regardless of what spellcheck claims, as it made it into the latest edition of Webster's). I sprung for the upgrade to the jacuzzi room, rightly assuming that after 8+ (more like 9.5) hours in a car, even a luxury ride like my Honda Element, I'd want a soak in something with jets slamming into my spine. I was right. I did. It was worth the $20.

But here's a touch of the conundrum. Wireless internet in casinos almost always costs me $10/day. But it's free in a fleabag! Drives me batshit. What if I don't want to watch overpriced hotel softcore? $10/day. What if I'm here for a conference (not that I believe there's actual industry in this part of Cunnilingus County, but regardless)? $10/day. What if I stay at a POS Baymont Inn? Free. And of course I'm paying it.

So Suzy's in the shower, girding herself for her first trip to the old home town in nearly 20 years. She wants to show me where she grew up, but doesn't want to see her ex-stepfather, who fucked around on her mom for two years with her mom's best friend. Can't really blame her for that one. Then tomorrow night is her 20th high school reunion, which is kind of a big deal for her. Mine's coming up in a few years, and it will probably be a big deal to me, too, because my 10th was a pretty big deal. My reunions don't have the redeeming quality of being held in casinos, though, since this is the nearest legal poker to my home. 500 miles away.

On another note, if anybody reads this far down, here's a couple of questions.

1) Good God, don't you have anything better to do?

2) Anybody wanna get together for a cookout and tournament the Sunday of Labor Day weekend? I'm thinking start cooking around noon, tourney registration at 1, start slinging cards around 2 and rock n' roll. Probably a $50 - $75 buy in, with cash games after. Lemme know if you're interested. I could probably handle 30 - 36 in my place with no problems.