Tuesday, October 01, 2013

My Teeth Are In My Hat

[Too late. You've read the title. How can you possibly go away without finding out what in heck it means? But if that isn't enough to lure you in, how about this?]

[I'm using an innocent child's gap-toothed smile to pimp for my blog. And why is he wearing a number? You'll have to read on to find out! Yes, I'm shameless.]

MY WIFE and I were invited to Plymouth, Massachusetts, for the weekend. The inviting was done by my sister-in-law Victoria and my brother-in-law Joe. They wanted to see a concert with us as well as share a meal at a good restaurant. They said it would be their treat for dinner. That sealed the deal for me. You could invite me to a three-day festival featuring sculptures made of rabbit poop and if there was a free meal included, I'd be there with bells on.

Here's the whole weekend.


We headed to the Hilton Garden Inn in Plymouth, our base of operations for the weekend. On the way, we stopped for lunch at Persy's Place in Kingston.

Actually, we didn't have lunch. We had breakfast because Persy's serves breakfast all day (except they close at 3pm, so it's not quite all day, but we were there at 2:15, so who cares?) and we're both breakfast people. If a place serves breakfast, we order breakfast. If it has home fries and eggs, we're on it like a democrat on a tax increase.

I ordered something called a "Dapper Dan", which is 3 eggs, hash, home fries, a stack of pancakes, baked beans, and coffee. MY WIFE ordered pumpkin pancakes because she is a pumpkin junkie and would eat an old shoe if it was pumpkin flavored. That sounds like a lot of food, and it is, but what arrived at our table was not a lot of food; it was a mountain of food. There was no way I only had 3 eggs on my plate. It looked more like 5 eggs. And everything else was similarly steroided. We ate our fill and still had full plates. We took away enough to have pancake snacks later that night while we lay in bed at the hotel watching TV, and then we had breakfast again (reheated in our in-room microwave) in the morning. We have a theory. We think since we arrived at 2:15, and Persy's closes at 3:00, we were probably the last people to order breakfast that day and they pretty much gave us everything that still remained on the grill. In any case, it was delicious all three times we ate it.

We arrived in Plymouth at 3:45 and checked into our room.

Very nice, non-smoking.

You know me by this late date. I smoke, a lot. We had requested a smoking room. Apparently, they don't have any smoking rooms. Enter Jim's wonderful electronic cigarette.

A few months back, I invested in an electronic cigarette. I won't describe the physics; you can figure those out from the illustration. I'll just tell you that it works. If I have to be someplace where I can't smoke, it does the job for me. I can go a full night without a real cigarette so long as I have my nicotine delivered electronically.

(I know - it's still no health treat to be sucking in nicotine, but it eliminates the tar and gunk that rots your lungs, AND there's no actual smoke to stink up wherever you are that doesn't allow addicts to feed their monkeys.)

It is the only thing I've ever tried that takes away the craving. I highly recommend it if you need to not smoke.

After we unpacked and I didn't smoke, we decided to take a walk around downtown Plymouth. We saw...

It has a very spiffy home.

In actuality, though, it is a prisoner. They keep it in a cage.

Here's the deal: Plymouth Rock used to be much larger. You couldn't expect a shipload of pilgrims to have landed on what's there now. Heck, a canoe of girl scouts would be hard-pressed to fit. What happened was people kept coming to see it and they'd take a little chip from it as a souvenir. So now it is a much smaller rock, kept in a cage so people don't keep stealing pieces and turn it into Plymouth Pebble. So you stand above the rock, look down about 10 feet or so onto it, and marvel at the fact that one individual had celebrated his or her freedom by tossing an empty Marlboro package into the cage. If that person had an electronic cigarette, of course, then the rock would have a nice clean cage for itself (or maybe the idiot would have taken a poop on the rock because a jerk is still a jerk even if he or she is not smoking.) Anyway, as a person who had ancestors on the Mayflower who probably stepped foot on that rock, I'd appreciate it if you newcomers would stop throwing garbage at it. Thank you.

After looking at history, we were hungry again. Well, I was hungry again, anyway, but MY WIFE said she wouldn't mind watching me eat, so we walked back to the main drag and I had two slices of pizza at a place named The Pie Hole.

Yup. The Pie Hole.

Whatever you think of the name, it was excellent pizza of the thin-crust variety. I'd say it ranks in the top ten of my pizza eating experiences (and that's high praise considering I was still partially full of eggs, hash, home fries, beans, and other breakfast foods.)

After the pizza, we strolled back to where I had parked Roddy The Wondercar. Along the way, we traversed The Oldest Street In America. The asphalt has held up surprisingly well. They must have had a wonderful public works department in 1620.

Finally, we get to the title of this tale that's going nowhere. As I readied myself for bed, I took out my denture (I have a lower that pops out.) And, as always when I'm away from home, I then wondered what to do with it. I don't like leaving it out in the open because lots of my family had dentures when I was a kid and I'd always be coming across them in glasses of water in the bathroom, on bureaus, on the kitchen sink, or on the coffee table if somebody took them out to pick some crud off them and then forgot to put them back in before they went to make a sandwich or something, and I often found it shocking to have someone smiling at me without them being attached to their teeth. Also, even though MY WIFE certainly knows I have a denture, I try not to be too gross about it. So, I had to figure out where to put it so it wouldn't be a constant reminder of my gumminess.

The problem with hiding it, though, is that if someone doesn't know that a place has dentures in it, they might make some sort of mistake and break your teeth and then where are you? I'll tell you where: In Plymouth, without enough choppers to really enjoy the Japanese dinner you're going to have with your sister-in-law and brother-in-law the next evening, so even though you don't want to leave your teeth out in the open to surprise anybody, you still have to tell them where they are so they don't ruin them. And that's why you say, "My teeth are in my hat."

(I know that wasn't particularly worth waiting for, but you have to agree there aren't too many titles that can top it.)

And now I'll leave you hanging in (relative) suspense, not knowing why the boy at the top of the page is wearing a number. Feel free to hazard a guess, but I won't acknowledge it.

Soon, with Saturday & Sunday (Hot Tubs! Music! Food! Video! How can you not be excited?)


Chris said...

Well, the kid's wearing a RoadID sponsored bib number so I'm assuming he's entered in the Rabbit Poop Sculpture 10K or something.

And yes, I was surprised by the non-monolithic size of Plymouth Rock. I was expecting something more impressive, to be honest (that's what SHE said).

joeh said...

Who amoungst us has not uttered the phrase "My teeth are in my hat" at least once in their life?

OldAFSarge said...

That has to be the most impressive and expressive blog post title of all time.

Or not...

But I was certainly hooked.

Jackie said...

This is a great read.
Love the fact that you made 3 meals from one. Impressed.

(not necessarily your) Uncle Skip, said...

The kid's running away from home and that's his disguise...

I wouldn't think of putting my teeth in my hat.
I know where my hat's been.
I did put them in my shirt pocket once.
Now I try to remember to carry a small Ziploc® bag.
I also try to remember not to put them in a back pocket because it's hard to explain teeth marks on your ass.

Michelle H. said...

You paid the kid to join a marathon as he walked around with your teeth in a hat.

Hey, it's plausible.

No, it is some type of special Olympic event since it looks as if the kid doesn't have any arms.

Tabor said...

One question...is that a foot or hand in the lower right side of the photo of the armless child?

IT (aka Ivan Toblog) said...

It's a trick post about caption the picture of the kid
You didn't go anywhere, making all of the other stuff up

A Cockney might say, "Pay to heed to the kid, 'e's 'armless"

He's on some kind of 5k run where they gave away shirts that are about 5x too large for the participants
Had all of his teeth until he tripped over the hem of the shirt and fell on his face

Aha... the topic is really teeth

IT (aka Ivan Toblog) said...

*pay no heed*

Juli said...

I HOPE that in your next post you will 'splain why you came all the way TO MY TOWN and didn't tell em you were coming. I ate at Persey's last week, had the Hawaiian, I even have the corn bread coupon you could use! I'm figuring I already know where you went for dinner, but I will say that if you come this way again you must try Anna's on teh water front or Rye Tavern in the Pinehills. To. Die. For.

As for the race bib... if it was Liam's run, my husband ran a 26. ;)

Suldog said...

It's a hand that I didn't notice before. And for goodness' sakes, you jokers, he has arms, he just has them behind his back. I've already got part two written and I'll be damned if I'm going to go back and rewrite it to explain that he has arms. Sheesh.

Suldog said...

Well, had I known it was your town, I would have hit you up for a free meal.

Suldog said...

One of the first times I ever took them out, I put them on my bed and went to do something. Came back and sat on them. Now, while the picture of me biting my own ass is a fun one, I was afraid I had broken them after only a week or so and would have to get another set at great expense. Luckily, it was the off-season and my ass was not its usual rock-hard-been-doing-hundreds-of-squats-a-night-because-I'm-a-catcher self, and my teeth survived..

Suldog said...

He has arms, just not in the photo.

Suldog said...

He... Has... Arms. Damn.

Buck said...

"And everything else was similarly steroided."

And you added a word to the OED, as well. Impressive.

Joe said...

I know, I know

Joe said...

But I'm not telling! lol

Suldog said...

The above comments are from my brother-in-law.

Juli said...

No worries... pay day's not for two more weeks. And for what it's worth, I'm glad he has arms. :)

Lora said...

"Like Democrats on a tax increase" LOL!
And I WILL be back to read about the kid!

Barbara Shallue said...

Your quandary about where to put your teeth just proves, once again, how thoughtful you are! I sure hope no one stepped on your hat!

It's.a.crazy.world said...

Hmmm, since I currently work for a dentist, I can tell you we have had many a call of the lost partial/denture variety. However, I never thought of them "biting your ass" as you sat on them ~ I must say that's quite a mental picture. For heaven's sake, ask the dentist to give you a plastic container (free, perhaps) or purchase one somewhere! Maybe put your name on it too in case it gets lost.

Loved this post, and I really needed a laugh to finish off the day!

The Broad said...

You are definitely one funny many, Sully! I Had no idea Plymouth Rock was so small! You know there are probably people in England who think Plymouth Rock is a peppermint stick? As for the kid who looks armless -- is the number on the sign a guess as to how many comments you'll get on this post?

The Broad said...

oops that should read funny 'man'!

Hilary said...

That brings back memories of family members with dentures. Never once did I see then in a hat though.

Karen said...

Poor kid has no arms... well, if he's in a race that sad fact won't matter. Bhaha! I *loved* this story. I saw it in my news feed the other day and thought 'what?? teeth in a hat??' This morning there were three teeth-in-a-hat posts so I had to come and see what it was about. I think you knew I grew up in MA and each year the 4th graders would make a trip to Plymouth, so this brought back memories. I wondered if I'd seen the rock without the fence around it, but googled it and it has been fenced since 1834. And, finally, Elder William Brewster is my 11th great grandfather. Have a good day, Jim!

lime said...

makes perfect sense to me. i've had to put my eyes in tupperware.