Today was a day spent learning. We learned so many things today. We learned that a “trio” need not be limited to describing a group that has three members. We learned that two of Kansas City’s most well-known barbecue restaurants have distinctly different approaches to meat. And, finally, we learned how a group of ticks at Zion or Arches National Parks could end up sending us to the Harry Truman Home in Independence, Missouri.
There was a recent note in the comments of this blog asking for us to take on a more political tone, and so today, Emily and Colin launched a first-hand investigation into health care in America. More specifically, the infrastructure in place in Kansas City to deal with the plague that is the modern American tick bite. At least, we think it’s a series of tick bites that has caused the moderately unfortunate rash-like (but not itchy or raised!) discoloration on the back of Colin’s legs. Three hours after checking in to a local emergency room, giving then all the info, being shuffled off behind a closed door to the local “urgent care,” repeating all the info, and finally, getting some good advice and prescriptions (and a tetanus shot – ouch!), we were ready to continue our day.
And, as it turns out, there are two things we found out about the staff at Saint Luke’s Hospital and the Swope Parkway Urgent Care Center.
1) The staff is split about fifty-fifty when it comes to the new History Channel sensation “Ice Road Truckers.” Some love it, some hate it, and Colin didn’t have the heart to tell them that he couldn’t do anything about it. Colin’s little part of History Channel programming has no impact on the rate at which "Ice Road Truckers" is both aired and promoted.
2) The staff members also shared a wealth of information about local food, local attractions, etc. That included the E.R. nurse practitioner guy, who was very vocal in his support of the tour at the Harry Truman Home in nearby Independence, Missouri.
And so it was on his advice, via the ticks, that we headed out to where Truman spent a great deal of his life before and after his time in the White House. It’s a very, very unassuming, middle of America home, and it’s been basically unchanged since Truman’s death in the early 1970’s. For Colin, the colors, modest appliances, and overall layout and décor of the home triggered a sense of 314 W. Howard déjà vu. (314 is the family home in Clarksville, and upcoming pix will likely give you a better sense of the overall Truman home vibe.)
This is definitely the right season for touring places like this – there were only four people on what turned out to be a very personalized version of the tour, given to us by the quirky U.S. Park Ranger “Al.” Not quite sure what Al’s deal is, but he gave a hell of a tour, selling the “material,” such as, “You know, it wasn’t until 1953, when he left the White House, that President Truman finally achieved the American dream… he became a homeowner.” Ba-dum-bump. Colin was Al’s best audience member ever. And Emily wants to remind folks that until 1953, the home had been owned by Truman’s mother-in-law, but Harry and Bess lived there. Details, details…the girl is obsessed with details.
On arriving back in Kansas City, we hit the first of the day’s two barbecue “must do’s” – the legendary Arthur Bryant’s; the original, on Brooklyn St. Emily and Colin shared a combo platter of meat – ribs and pulled pork. Colin’s verdict: Excellent. Emily’s verdict: “Great, spicy, I liked it because it didn’t come smothered in sauce.” No fear in the sauce department, though; if Al Gore knew the number of trees cut down to make the napkins we used during the meal, he’d have an inconvenient hemorrhage. (And if he did, he should head down to Saint Luke’s… Good people, there!)
After a brief power nap, Emily awoke recharged, and, oddly, asking for her mother. Colin is used to dealing with Emily’s post-waking return to reality, so he talked her down. Mommy wasn’t there…in Kansas… or Missouri…. but everything was going to be all right. (Side note: What do they put in the sauce at Arthur Bryant's?)
After Emily rejoined us here in Kansas City, we set out for phase two of our day. And phase two of our day was one of our favorite days of the trip. Emily thinks all the days have been so great and so different, there hasn’t been a day that hasn’t been her favorite day of the trip, and in that respect, Colin certainly agrees.
So we went to a genuine riverboat casino. And, in order to get in, due to Missouri state law, we became members of Harrah’s Gold Star Player’s Club. And boy, let me tell you, when they see the way we took ten hard earned dollars, and stretched it out over a variety of one and five cent slot machines for a whole hour, well, they’re just going to be throwing comp rooms and meal upgrades our way.
Off the river, then, and over to Kansas City’s famed “Blue Room” club, part of the American Jazz Museum. Monday nights are the jazz equivalent of “open mic” night at the Blue Room; anyone is welcome to bring an instrument, sign up, and take the stage. (Sadly, Emily had left her cello in Sherman Oaks.) And Kansas City is home to a wealth of jazz talent. Singers and piano players came off especially well, and the fact that entire thing is free… that’s right, free… only adds to the value here. Anytime you can see world class jazz for free in a fantastic setting - they do have a bar, but no minimum - you don't pass that up. There’s no bar food, though, but Emily and Colin decided against doing what they considered to be the least “jazz” thing in the entire world: going back to the car, and bringing in a package of Golden Honey “Teddy Grahams.”
Highlights included a man taking the stage midway through a jam, whispering to the band, and launching in to a beautiful rendition of “Stormy Monday.” He killed it, absolutely killed it, then walked off the stage, and back to the bar. After the number wrapped, as is jazz tradition, the bass player/host then gave kudos to the band, but was stumped on the mystery singer, saying something like, “Bob Johnson on drums… and some guy, on vocals. Thank you, mystery visitor….” The fact that the mystery visitor was world-class himself only added to the special vibe of the night. A great, great time. Other highlights included a table filled with four, elderly African American gentlemen, who looked like the types who had been meeting like this for years… with one of the men wearing a backwards baseball cap and Bluetooth headset. An awesome combo pack of tradition and technology.
Oh, and Jeff, the bass playing hosts’ band? They’re called the Jeff Harshbarger Trio … and yes, there’s four people in it. Which is one of the many reasons why jazz is just so damn cool.
Also out of this world: piano player Ryan Howard. Not the Philadelphia Phillie, but a man who can really make that keyboard sing.
To cap off the night, Colin and Emily hit their second barbecue joint of the day, a local mini-chain called Gates. Here we split another combo sampler platter, this one coming with an appropriate amount of triangle-sliced Wonder Bread. You could make little mini sandwiches out of the succulent ham, or the thin sliced beef. The ribs were delicious, and the macaroni salad, while to Emily’s taste, a bit “mayonnaise-y”, was a much needed “oral cooling agent,” after the spicy Gates sauce covered most of the meats. Colin’s verdict: Delicious, in a different way. Emily’s verdict: “It was, like, spicy because they put so much sauce on it, but it was good. All the barbecue was good.”
Tomorrow – more museums, then it’s Meet Me in St. Louis… if “me” happens to be Robynn Ragland, one of Colin’s college friends, who holds a special place in Colin/Emily history. It was Robynn, the rock star/lawyer who needed an audition tape edited for “The Apprentice,” and Colin knew this girl who might be able to help… Yes, it was this project that launched Colin and Emily down the long we now call… Interstate 70.
Current Mood: Full of barbecue
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