University of Wyoming

26 Jun 2009. Laramie was a surprise. The only Division 1 institution in the Equality State boasts a fine collection of stone, wood, and iron architecture, all in the school's brown and gold colors. License plates, commemorative quarters, football-punted pint glasses - the bronc buster icon is everywhere in Wyoming! What would Wyoming be without cowboys?

A helluva lot less interesting, I can tell you that right now.

I don't doubt that, but...who are you?

They call me Char.

Any what do you know about Wyoming?

Ha! What do I know about Wyoming?

No need to repeat the question.

And no need for me to stick around and help you with your little website. I know that someone with your manners would be run out in a heartbeat, that's what I know.

Hold on. I apologize, we got off on the wrong start. Please tell me about yourself.

All right then. I go by Char. I live in Chugwater.

Are you a cowboy?

Ha! Everyone in Wyoming's a cowboy. But I know yer meaning, in which case I'd have to say no.

Even with the hat?

It takes more than a felt hat to be a cowboy. No, I run the Powder River Bar. We're on Main Street across from Cody's Auto Care. Or rather, Cody's Auto Care is across the street from us.

So you're a bartender?

At nights I am. During the day I tend to my handiwork. Metals, mostly iron, inspired by Mr. Frederic Remington.

Rodeo scenes?

More like the old American West. Kind of romanticized. Larger than life.

I saw several sculptures like that on the campus in Laramie.

Then I'd bet you saw my best work. The life size rider on Ivinson Avenue.

I did! That's yours?

Proud to say that it is. People tell me how lifelike it is, but they don't know the half of it. This one fought back. It sculpted me! I was working on the mane - hair, rope, anything thin is always tough to work with on account of the heat required to mold it. Makes it so brittle. So of course, this piece of the mane bends down and falls off, bounces off the hoof, buries itself in my shirt. It burns through my shirt, giving me a souvenir of the whole experience.

Wow. The scar kind of looks like a stretched E or M.

From my point of view, I like to say it's a W. Makes more sense. Listen, I'd like to go on, but I have to open the bar. They don't wait to drink, so I'd rather them not have to bust down the doors.

Any last words for our readers?

Of course - Powder River, Let 'er Buck!

Char's work

University of Nebraska

25 Jun 2009. Second floor: Textbooks. Okay, the usual.
Ground floor: Healthy selection of basic printed gifts, cups, shirts, pens, caps and other hatware. Impressive range of designs
Basement: SWEET MERCY! WAVES OF LOGO EFFLUVIA! This is where the Nebraska lifers shop. Furniture, jewelry, formal wear (human and canine), golf clubs, appliances, tents, Manchester, ping pong and billiards tables, radial tires, yacht riggings. Tattoo parlor? Unconfirmed.


*** The following is a diary excerpt from Pydaras Sabakalova, Russian exchange student at The University of Nebraska, Lincoln. ***

5:15 AM. Alarm goes off. 'Somebody's watching me' song from Geico commercial on my iPod dock clock plays as usual. I shower then dress in my only collared shirt, the dirty Hawaiian shirt from work. I closed the restaurant last night and was too tired to do laundry.

5:37. Bike to Hilary Swank Elementary School. I pack my tickets and some books and my lunch. It is early but I am happy to give back to the country that is providing my education.

6:01. I arrive in the school cafeteria. Five elderly Americans tell me I am late. Their names are Earl, Marlene, Jim, Swinton, and Patty.

6:06. Earl tells the voting procedures and regulations to everyone. He says my shirt is "borderline" and I cannot wear my shoes. I have to take off my black tennis shoes and wear his extra shoes. They are bowling shoes and they are too big.

6:35. Earl teaches me how to operate the electronic machines. They are small desks with very thin metal legs and walls. My job is to make sure people do not break them by accident. It seems like a very easy job to do for $100.

7:00. The polls open. There are many people in line. This is a very patriotic day I feel! Everyone has their say in improving the country.

7:01. My first voter! It is a tall man with a big beard wearing overalls. He works out the electronic machine on his own without any problems. This is good. It was hard to understand his talking through the big beard.

9:59. Earl asks me to take a break. I see that 144 people have voted on my machine but I am not tired at all. I am having fun greeting all the people. I wander the halls for a while and sit for the rest of my break. Marlene asks how I can be an election officer if I am not an American citizen. I think she is meaning to say that someone else should be making the $100 instead of me, but those are not the words she uses. $100 is more than I make in one day so I am still excited.

10:15. Resume work at the electronic voting machine. A small metal clip holding one of the machine walls broke while I was gone. I ask Patty what happened because she was watching the machines for me. She says she does not know.

12:30 PM. Lunch break. I am hungry so I am glad I brought extra borscht. I cannot find it so I ask if someone had seen my borscht or wheat thins. Jim says he thought the table was group food. He ate half of the box of wheat thins. Then he ate the other half. He was fat so he should not eat other people's food. But nobody ate my borscht. I asked again where was it? Earl said all he saw was leftover beets that the cleaning person forgot to throw away. I told him they were mine. He asked if I was sure because they were cold and starting to smell and he put them in the trash. I started to say that in Russia it is supposed to be cold but Marlene called Earl over with a voter problem before I could explain. Swinton felt bad I had no food. He offered me his kelp dogs. I had never seen black hot dogs made of plants but I was very hungry. Swinton was nice but I do not want to eat kelp dogs again. I spend the rest of lunch looking at my Russian-English dictionary for romantic words.

1:14. I return to the voting machine. Someone had written all over the computer screen. I think they were trying to vote by writing with a pen on the computer. I ask Patty what happened. She says she does not know. I still am hungry and have a bad taste in my mouth but it is okay because I only have four hours and 45 minutes left.

3:15. Earl gives me another break. I drink lots of water from the water fountain. I walk outside. There are small girls in uniforms selling lemon cookies to raise money for a trip to Texas. I would like to help them get to Texas and eat lemon cookies but I did not bring any money with me. All I brought was my tickets to 1776. It is a musical about the starting of America. I want to surprise Sarah Anne with them after the polls close.

3:31. I return from my break. Earl looks at me weird but does not say anything. A leg on the voting machine is bent. I ask Patty what happened. She says she does not know. I think that Patty might not know anything.

6:10. The last voter leaves. The polls close at 6:00 but the voters still in line at 6:00 are allowed to vote. Earl types on the voting machine and a long paper list of voting numbers prints out. He helps me put away the voting machine. The bent leg is hard to put back in the box. He asks what did I do to the machines. I said I don't know and to not ask Patty because she also does not know.

6:37. We are all still in the cafeteria. I ask are we allowed to go? Earl says no and I ask when. He says when he is done with the papers we all have to sign to be a witness or else we do not get our $100. He says Nebraska elections take more work because the unicameral legislature is more complicated. I ask how can the unicameral be more complicated than the bicameral. He asked if I read the booklet for election officers in the mail. I said I did not get anything in the mail. I start to worry because Sarah Anne is done at work at the Love Library at 7:00 and the musical starts at 7:30. I like Sarah Anne because she is a very pretty American girl like Russians see in movies and magazines.

6:58. We are still in the cafeteria. Everyone is sitting around. They are very patient or very boring, I cannot tell. I ask to borrow a cell phone but nobody has one except for Earl and he says it is only for election business. I tell a lie that I need to call a friend to tell him that the polls are closed and that he should not come to vote now. Marlene says my friend is ignorant. I go to the corner of the room and call the Love Library. Sarah Anne answers "Love Library" like she is ordering me to love the library. I say "No, love Sarah Anne". She laughs. I tell her to wait at the Love Library until I get there please. She says okay. I like Sarah Anne also because she says my name in a very nice way that makes me forget it is a bad name in Russia.

7:22. Earl finishes his work and we all sign the papers to be a witness. Everyone still stands around but I leave fast. I am very very hungry but I need to go meet Sarah Anne. It is more important.

7:28. I run into the Love Library. I find Sarah Anne talking to a friend at the front desk. She looks at me and smiles and says "Pydaras!" that makes me forget I am hungry, late, and angry. Then I see the clock behind her that says 7:29. I tell her we have to go or we will be late for the musical. I show her the tickets. She says that is sweet but we will never make it in time. She says we should go sit in the lobby instead and eat popcorn and hot dogs until the intermission and we can see the second act. When she says hot dogs it reminds me of the kelp dogs. I start talking about my bad time. This makes the walk go very quickly and we are already at the theater. I try to remember some of the words from my dictionary and hope I get it right when I say to Sarah Anne "You redeem my day."

Oh, Nebraska bookstore, you redeem my coupon. <3

Creighton University

25 Jun 2009. Omaha was much more cityfied than I ever imagined. I also didn't know Creighton was a religious school - probably Jesuit. All their products had unimpressive designs; I wanted a blue jay.


Creighton Fight Song (Alternate Version)

Creighton, Creighton!
We love Creighton!
Blue and white we're celebratin'
Always strong, no hesitatin'
Won't go down without a fight!

Creighton, Creighton!
We love Creighton!
Shining glory's now awaitin'
We're the best! There's no debatin'
Blue Jay pride throughout the night!

(musical interlude)

From the stands at Rosenblatt
To the reaches of the Platte
Though our state is fairly flat
Creighton U is where it's at!

(call-and-response)
Huskers?
OMAHA-HA-HA!
Bulldogs?
OMAHA-HA-HA!
Hawkeyes?
OMAHA-HA-HA!
Shockers?
OMAHA-HA-HA!

Creighton Blue Jays
RA RA RAAAAAA!

('Shockers' may be replaced with name of current opponent)

Above: Nuns having fun

Not pictured: dive bombing pickpocket blue jays; pioneers at Chimney Rock stricken with dysentery; wheat, barley, and hops fields hit by a tornado and mixed with pure Platte River water to create a heavenly sky-brewery; other interesting stories

Drake University

24 Jun 2009. The closest College Cups has had to a chase scene was in Des Moines, Iowa. I left Iowa, Iowa, at 4:00 PM. The Drake bookstore was set to close at 5:30 PM. Could I make 119 miles in 90 minutes?? I mentally calculated that my average speed would have to be in the 75 mph range. If I went for it and made it, I could get the cup and log some after-dinner miles before setting up camp for the night. But if I missed it, I would have to stay in Monktown and make my purchase first thing in the morning. And that would put me way behind schedule in my cross country trip.
I went for it of course.
The bookstore was relatively easy to find from the interstate. I parked at 5:31 PM, and luckily the doors were still open to sweaty, jittery, numb-butted customers like me! Not only that, the cashiers recommended a great local barbecue dive. Jethro's and Lake Anita State Park: A+, would patronize again.


Sir Francis Drake stroked his chin. He was lost in the American continent.
"Will you stop fondling your goatee and ask for directions?" asked Drake's talking bulldog, Jethro.
"Never!! Not for all the naked lady scrimshaw in Connecticut will I accept help from a Frenchman or a savage!"
This was not the first time Drake regretted having Jethro take English lessons from a parrot. Yet he was still the most intelligent companion out of the whole crew.
Their tall ship, The Golden Hind, was dangerously out of place up the muddy Des Moines river. And it had been spotted by the natives. The natives knew it was only a matter of time before a ship of that size was permanently moored. It just came quicker than they thought.
Minutes later, The Golden Hind came to a sludgy halt. When Drake and Jethro disembarked to survey the damage, they were doomed.
"Look at the condition of the hull, Jethro. What a damnable catastrophe!"
"You're the damnable catastrophe. How many miles off course did you put us?"
"You are not being man's best friend right now."
Drake reached back to deliver a slap to Jethro's golden hindquarters. A large tailless squirrel dropped into his open palm.
"Ye Gads! A flying prairie rat!" It scampered down his shirtsleeve and disappeared into his vest. Dignity suddenly dropped low on Drake's list of priorities.
"Oof! Ahh! Gah! Jethro, help!"
Jethro was busy with small mammals of his own. He was barking and thrashing, trying to ward off the strange new species.
The enemy artillery emerged from the pines. Drake addressed them. "By the power of the crown, I order you to stand down - ahh - that we may - erg - engage in a humane discourse!"
Jethro flipped a couple rats aside. "Drake, you and your weak nose. They ain't humane cuz they ain't human!"
The crew of The Golden Hind finally finished their poker game and came deckside. They had a better view of what Jethro meant. Instead of charging Sioux, they saw the inexplicable: bison-mounted prairie dog catapults operated by trained coyotes in feathered headdresses.
A new round of prairie dogs were flung close to the ship. They climbed up the sides and populated the crew's faces. The animals not busy with facial mauling were gnawing through lines and masts.
The coyotes dismounted from the bison and identified Drake as the party's leader. Sadly, they made quick work of the captain.
Hopelessly outnumbered, Jethro ran.
He subsisted for two weeks on river water, grass, and prairie fowl eggs. He made it to Chicago where a settler recognized the royal seal on the lapels of his sailor suit. Jethro recounted the story during his convalescence, but as veterinary medicine was primitive back then, he had little chance of long-term survival. A few days later he succumbed to doggy dysentery.
Drake and his crew became heroes in England.
Much later, when a town sprang up around the Des Moines river, the founders paid tribute to them by christening their new school Bulldog University. Their sports teams were nicknamed the Drakes.
Days later the names were reversed.

Jethro's golden hindquarters

"Bow-wow to me!"

Drake is home to the annual Beautiful Bulldog competition.

University of Iowa

24 Jun 2009. There should be more merchandise trailers dotting America's campuses. Something about making a credit card transaction out of doors makes one feel...primal. Excuse me while I hunt some fierce wild corn.

"Jesus is a lot like a surfboard."
Blank stares.
This is the moment Peter diScala quickly learns, talking surfing to Iowans is like talking bobsled to Jamaicans. Even for a religious man, it takes a leap of faith to connect with students on such a level.
"The perfect wave is a holy moment. Experiencing God, in a way. And you can only partake in it when you are one with your surfboard."

When receiving their mission calls, surfin' Mennonites Peter diScala and Royal Bristlermartin were first hoping to be assigned together. Near the ocean was a close second. Royal lucked out. He got sent to Hamilton, Bermuda. Peter got Iowa City, Iowa. (Or simply, Iowa, Iowa.) Peter was disappointed at first, but soon was eager for the culture shock and the challenge.

"Okay, I see I will need some help here. Don't go anywhere, guys."
Peter's two dozen students, not much younger than him, complied out of curiosity. He returned twenty minutes later with his bold red striped surfboard, detained overnight in Quad Cities airport on suspicion of being a surfboard in Iowa. The five footer was a first for the entire class.
"That thing's pretty big," said one of the students.
Peter beat out the that's-what-she-said's with,
"That's nothing. I got an eight footer back home in Hawai'i." He flops it down on the ground.
"The thing about classrooms and teaching is it's all theory. You can only learn so much without active application."
He points to one of the many blondes. "What's your name?"
"Julie."
"Hi Julie. Come up here for a second. Come on guys, give her a hand. I'm going to need participation for this class to work for all of us."
A few people clap politely.
"Thank you. Julie, would you lay face down on the board? The rest of you, don't worry, you'll get to do this too. Now you're in the ocean, Julie. It's warm, the water is clear blue, clearer than anything in the Mississippi, you hear nothing but waves and birds. Perhaps a stray hawkeye. So you're paddling around...I said you're paddling around. That's you, Julie."
She starts flopping her arms kinda circular-like.
"Good! You see a swell coming up. You get yourself turned around so you are facing the beach. Now you start paddling like crazy! Fifth gear, let's go! All right!"
The class, still not sure what this is all about, cheers her on anyway. "Julie, go! Gooooo!"
Peter smiles and continues. "It's time to ride! Bring your right foot up to your left knee, toes facing right."
Her shoe catches a tailfin and rips it half off. Peter winces.
"Oh, sorry!"
"Don't apologize, I'm not here, just you and the water. Grip the sides of the board. Keep your chest on the board and push your shoulders up. Now get ready, time to stand. In one smooth motion, bring your left foot up in front of your right. Feel shoulder length apart, toes facing right, head facing forward. Use your arms and core for balance. Yes!! You're up! You realize you're not alone any more - all the guys on the shore are admiring! Strike a pose, you've earned it. Okay. All right, that's hot doggin' it too much, now you fall off. Splash, wipeout. Saline in the face, pride in the water. Ouch. Thank you, Julie."
The students applaud her again. She takes her seat.
"Now how long would it take you to master that on the classroom floor? Two, three times maybe? But on the water, how long? I've done it two or three thousand times and I still don't have it all down. I want to to make sure we are applying what we are learning here with sincere effort. Plus I'll throw in some surfing lessons to mix it up."
"Where can you surf here?" asks a student.
"I'm sure there's some wave pools around, right?"
The class discusses and shakes their heads.
"There's one in Des Moines I think," offers another student.
"We'll think of something."

A converted baptismal font and a few high-powered water jets later, SURFIowa (Spiritual Understanding, Recreation, and Friendship) gets its primitive beginnings. By the end of Peter's time in Iowa, Iowa, SURFIowa becomes an integral part of the community, Mennonite and otherwise. It is the first of its kind in the state. It wins widespread praise from Peter's superiors in the church. His students all chip in for a custom-designed black and gold Iowa Hawkeye board as a going away gift. Still, he wonders what it would have been like if he had been dispatched to Bermuda at Royal's side.

He got the gist from the title page of the summary report. While Peter's was called Immersive Learning: How SURFIowa Got Off The Ground, Royal's dared readers to continue on with the title Wasps, Wasps Everywhere: The Debilitating Effects of Migratory Insect Patterns on Service Missions.

Not pictured: Totally rad merch trailer