In Fact, Not In Kansas Anymore

Today I write from a big plane flying somewhere between Kansas City (Missouri I think, not the Kansas state one, though that is nearby) and New York City. I have spent the past couple days in Kansas, the state, shooting something for the popular Current TV network, which is on cable. I stayed in Topeka, Kansas, which was about an hour from the airport, and then, yesterday, shot a story about an awesome guy who- according to him, his mother, and a small but loyal group of followers anyway- is the pope of the Catholic Church (photo above). I can’t go into it too much right now because I have to let the story do the talking when it ends up on television, but you can get a better sense of things at Pope Michael’s website, which is located here. Anyway, as pope’s go, he is a pretty awesome and incredible guy. I hope I get to hang out with him and his mother and eat chili again some day real soon, just like I did yesterday.

Aside from hanging out with the pope and his mother, most of my time in Kansas was spent eating a lot. One night I went to a BBQ restaurant near the airport that I can’t remember the name of. Unfortunately, I wasn’t super hungry so I didn’t get to throw down like a motherf*cker and eat a whole bunch or anything, but I did eat some ribs and that was nice. I like ribs and- for whatever reason- I pretty much only eat them while travelling and ending up at some BBQ restaurant in Kansas or something. I’m not sure why that is. Ribs are generally pretty awesome. I’m thinking about putting them into the rotation.

Last night, I ate with all the television people at Old Chicago, a pizza place in Topeka that has 110 beers on their menu. Since I like drinking stuff, I was reasonably excited about it. The weird thing is though, when you get right down to it, 110 beers isn’t really that many. I mean, it is generally speaking, but once you start going through the list then you’re all wishing they had something they don’t have on the menu. It’s almost better if they have just six beers or something so you could just accept it and move on. At least that’s how it is with me anyway. Then again, I’m a major a-hole.

After dinner, there was more work to be done as I had to record a bunch of voiceovers for the TV show. It’s funny how it gets much harder to talk in my television voice (significantly louder and with less mumbling than my normal, hanging-out voice) once I’ve had a few drinks. I have a tough enough time talking as it is, but once the drinks were thrown into the equation it was nearly impossible to speak with the clarity America deserves. I am not proud of this. Do not live by my example, whether you are in show business or not.

Also in Kansas, not surpisingly, I saw lots of adorable cows and horses. There were even a lot of baby cows- calves, they call them- hanging out with the big cows and horses. Talk about adorable. Do not get me started on this topic. I wanted to get out of the car and just pet them and pet them until a farmer or someone might run up to me and was all like “Hey, you- get away from that animal.” Then I’d just go back to the car I guess. A lot of times people see baby cows and want to take them home with them (not unlike in the hit movie “City Slickers,” starring Hollywood's Billy Crystal, Daniel Stern, and Jack Palance) but then after a while the baby cow gets all big and the person is all like “Shit, I have a cow in my house and I am not entirely sure what to do about it.” The moral of the story is this: if you ever see a baby cow and are thinking of taking it home with you, don’t. Instead, just stand there and pet it for a while until you get it out of your system. Someone might come along and yell at you but- trust me on this one- that is a lot less of a hassle than totally have a big cow in your house, a situation that comes with its own set of problems that I won’t even get into right now.

Okay, that about covers it until next time.

Dave Hill