Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Plague

'Twas a bad, bad couple of days, folks.

If you didn't know better, you'd think God had it out for the Houghs. Apparently we refused to release the Israelites from slavery. Who knows.

What I do know, friends, is that there are twelve or thirteen of the Houghs/Waites who have fallen ill over the last three days, and the degree of ailment ranges from violent bouts of vomiting, to headaches, to just plain 'not feeling good.'

What caused this plague upon our house? We're not entirely sure, but the fact of the matter is that nearly every, last relative that was over at my dad's house the day after Christmas for the annual Hough/Waite extended Christmas fell ill. Only my two nephews, Kris, and the Cannonball prevailed.

Everyone else got sick. What was crazy about this sudden onslaught of grossness was the fact that it didn't kick in until nearly 24 hours later. Allow me to backtrack some...

The morning after our clan celebrated the holidays, my old compatriot Seloske drove up to Clare to pick me up. He was to transport me back down to Kalamazoo for a Sausage Pad reunion with the members that still resided in the general area, and we were both looking forward to a day of bar-hopping and revisiting the ol' stomping ground of our college years.


Once we rolled into town, I had to swing by a T-Mobile store and pick up a new phone. My old Blackberry Pearl Flip had been a reliable sidearm for the last two years, but had lately fallen into the habit of dying on me. A full night's charge would last me four hours, and that would be without even using the damn thing. Obviously, the phone had to be destroyed, and so I had to take it out back and give it the Ol' Yeller treatment.

My replacement was the HTC MyTouch 4G, which runs Android and is arguably smarter than I am.

I haven't figured out how to operate the Holo-deck or activate the Teleportation device, but the user manual seems pretty straight-forward, so I'm sure it's only a matter of time.


Anyway, after we picked up my new super-phone, we headed to Zack Smith's bachelor pad. From there, it was off to Bell's brewery downtown, where we had a few lunch beers and passed the time staring at all the young, bearded hipsters that love to frequent establishments like Bell's and wear corduroys and sports coats.

Seriously, what's up with young guys wearing beards now - is this a new trend? Young dudes sporting beards hasn't been popular since the '60s, and before that, the Civil War - are we really doing this again?

I wore a pretty bitchin' beard towards the end of my service in Africa, and it sure as hell looked way sweeter than the ones I saw at Bell's.


Maybe its time for a good ol' fashioned Beard-Off. I'd take those jerks to school, for real.

Anyway, after Bell's Beardo Emporium, we met up with Smitty at another bar, Shakespeare's, and had a few more drinks before heading back to Zack's for the annual bout of Risk.

The plan for the night was to bar-hop between a few different places - Bilbo's, BW3s, Waldo's, and a couple other places I can't remember the name of - meeting up with my cousin, Mackenzie, some of our old collegiate associates, and people Smith and Smitty worked with.


...but that didn't happen.

By the time we got to the first bar, I wasn't feeling well. We were at this first bar for, say, two hours, and during that period of time I had two pints. That's it. Nothing crazy. My stomach was pissed, and I had heartburn so bad it felt as if a knife was lodged in my chest. Couple that with a whopping four hours of sleep the night before (thanks, daughters), and I was not the Broam K. that once tromped across Kalamazoo like a Viking Berserker.

The next two stops weren't any better, and so the rest of the long, drawn-out, horribly uneventful evening was spent sick as a dog and pissed that such a rare and fine opportunity for old school shenanigans was wasted.

If that wasn't enough, the next day after Smith drove me back up to Clare, I returned only to find our entire clan in shambles. Everyone was sick. I don't know if you guys are aware of this thing called 'salmonella.' Its gross. I never really hung out around raw chicken, so I was kind of curious as to how it had decimated our family. As of right now, I think it's been narrowed down to a plate that my Aunt Lucy made and brought to dinner, but who knows.


I had intended to go out to the Doherty to hang out with the old high school crew - Trevor, Grit, Sean, Lee, etc. - but had to force myself out the door. After a couple hours and a couple drinks, I had to return to my dad's house... at 9:30pm.

I don't think I've returned home that early from going out with friends since I was in 5th grade.

The following morning, it was time for the Houghs to once again brave I-75. It was time to venture southbound in our Tactical Family Transport Vehicle. This time, however, we were traveling as a bunch of sick people... so morale, to say the least, was far from high...

To be continued...

- Brian

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