Day 5 and 6 OR All You Need Is Love... and Stomp The Yard

Spending a day with the Murphy's was a lot like hanging out with Bear Grylls while eating chocolate pudding and tussling with a puppy while Bear talks about getting enough protein and the dangers of glaciers. Holy crap it was awesome.

A strapping breakfast of potato pancakes and ham'n'cheese casserole? Check.

Crushing a third grader at ping pong? Yessir.

Copious amounts of time spent in the miniature van? Oyez oyez.

Skyline Chili? Magically delicious.

Beans? Indeed.

Nickelback? Eff that.

Frolf? You bet your mom.

Chuch? Amen.

The day was extremely well-rounded like a young Rosie O'Donnel. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and look forward to seeing the Murphy's again at least before Cooper gets his first tattoo (5 years or less).

After a raucous church service (could be the first time those two words were used in the same sentence without a qualifier) my shorty and I drove to meet mom and dad in Friendship, IN for the National Muzzleloading Rifle Association's championship shoot. This is what I grew the beard for.

And now, to give an eyewitness account to the goings-on of this glorious day, here, for the first time ever, is GUEST BLOGGER CHANDLER WYGANT:

Well, I hadn't planned on blogging during the trip, because we all know ben is infinitely more entertaining, but I thought you should here about Friendship, Indiana from me, because to ben its like coming home, but I got to see it all with fresh little naive eyes. I'll do my best to give you a full picture of the last 24 hours...


Ever been to a Penn State football tailgate? The NMLRA shoots are a lot like that, except they last for a full week, everyone has guns, the campers were all made before 1975, the sheriff drives around town in a green john deer golf cart, and they're all republicans. or white supremicists. or both? I imagine the NMLRA is a lot like the NRA except that they are purists.. you'll find no modern weaponry here, my friend. just a lot of loose gunpowder.

We arrived Saturday night to an entire valley smelling of sulfur and gun powder, with bonfires and rednecks of all ages everywhere. Most everything was shut down by that point, except for a few peddlars selling assortments of old guns, hunting knives and hand-blown glass marijuana parafanalia out of old sheep sheds. There was a loud barn dance, for the late-nighters of the group. No one was really dancing, but there was more cheap beer and more flasks than I saw the whole time i was college. Ninety percent of the guys were wearing cutoff t-shirts and boots. I felt like I'd stepped into another world, the one that exists only in cheesy country songs about the backwoods or the south or northern michigan, the kind of world that i, in my suburban popped collar and pearls world, idealize when I blast jason aldean with vail in my car, but didn't believe actually existed.

This morning, things just got even better. As I waited in line for a hot shower (bonus! didn't expect that), The sound of gunshots erupted promptly at 7:30, starting off the competitions. There are roughly 15-20 shooting ranges in the Friendship valley, including one for the kids. with real guns. This is where my husband spent his childhood summers. The one we started off at was a skeet range where you rotate from station to station, much like around the world in basketball, and shoot at either one or two clay pigeons at a time, depending on your preference. Ben and his dad held down the fort, while his mom and I proudly cheered them on. Then his dad taught me how to load the gun and let me get a few shots in. I didn't hit anything. I'm not sure I understand how to aim. That and I'm left-eye dominate, which is apparently a problem while trying to shoot a right-handed gun. But I gave it my best and looked pretty good holding a gun, i think. So i got that going for me.


After that we wandered over to what they call the primitive ranges, where everyone is dressed as pioneers or native americans, and they all sleep in makeshift teepees. Here, people, who may actually think its still 16 or 17 or 1840, sell all kinds of colonialesque stuff, like you could buy in Williamsburg. Then at the shooting range, they aim at posters of British soldiers instead of bulls eyes. priceless.

This pretty much concluded our short stay in Friendship, but the memories will live on forever, I assure you. Until next time, here's my husband back.




Friendship was wicked awesome. Things burned. Things exploded. Things got cut in half by primitive weapons. The Lord smiled on this patch of Indiana wilderness.

Day 7 - Chicagolandfieldvilledom. Deep. Dish. Pizza.