Monday, October 15- Fall Tour

This morning we woke up in Archbold. And as I sit in the pleasantly painted yellow pastel room watching Oliver slowly drift into a sweet, sweet slumber, I am reminded of where we have come from and what we have done. This morning’s events at Pettisville High School are all a blur to me except for the distinct Mr. Miyagi form of piano accompaniment that Ken so willingly displayed. After Ken’s outburst, we partook to delectable pastries provided at the school. We then boarded our noble Eliza and headed toward Indy (Oliver and myself decided the bus should have a name, and Eliza was as fitting as any). We arrived in downtown Indianapolis and killed time by exploring a bit of the city. I tried to make a more productive use of my time by exercising and partaking in a little Frisbee. But being the gimp that I am, I merely became a target for pelting blows which I received on the left shoulder, right thigh, and also upon the left temple. We boarded the bus soon after the strike to the temple and continued on to the church. Alvin displayed some impeccable driving as he tackled the treacherous Indiana terrain. After performing for what seemed to be the most unamused assortment of people (for they did not applaud us until the very end), it was time for is to meet those who would be hosting us during our final night on the road. When I met the one boy at our host home, I was taken aback. This young man was the spitting image of what a man would look like if Bob Saget and Jim Halpert from "The Office" stood at opposite sides of a gymnasium, got a running start, and hit each other in the middle. I do not recall him name due to the fact that from the very moment we were introduced I called him Jim Saget. All of the strenuous activity has taken a toll on both Oliver and myself. He is all tuckered out now and very much on the verge of sleep, exhausted from exploring secret rooms and crawl spaces here in our host home (see me for video). Awww…he looks so peaceful when he sleeps. Well, in anticipation for the day of travel tomorrow, I must retire. As I drift off, pen still scribbling across the page, I can only think, “Wow, I can’t spell” and “I wonder how awkward Kory will feel after hearing my free verse poetry?”

Ode to Kory

The redwoods are humbled by your majesty. The bunnies, fawns, and ewes fall at your feet in submission to your felt pants. These pants which encompass legs that seem to travel all the way up to your radiant face. You are the 6’3” whipped topping on our Bel Canto ice cream sundae. The 6’3” cream in our Oreo cookie. The 6’3” fiz in our soda. But above all, Kory, you are our very own gentle giant. And we are proud to hold you in our ranks.

~Mitchell The Stutzman