Shenanigans at Dawn!: June 2009

Day 14, Saturday
Campbellsville, Kentucky
Hot and sunny, again!
This post by: Crystal

After a full day on the lake, the UV rays had reflected all over us and burned many of us quite severely. Only the distant memory of a childhood summer holiday in New Zealand's Bay of Islands (back in the days where SPFs were in single digits) comes close to the excruciating, hot throbbing sensation I felt upon waking up that morning. Despite spending the last decade in sunny Queensland, it's been years since my legs have seen the sun, and, well, they were really letting me know how much they despised me for diligently reapplying sunscreen to all parts of my body except my legs. Whoops.

So while today was meant to be spent on the golf course, competing for the Trans-Pacific Golfing Trophy, I shuffled around the house like Ozzy Osbourne, together with a few other similarly stricken casualties.

The rolling greens

Important notice, and the prettiest 'no loitering' sign I've seen

Billy and Morgan team up

The teams inspect the course

Travelling in style

Another important notice (with added evidence)

James takes a swing

Heading for the green

The Trans-Pacific Golfing Trophy originated in 2003, when Jim, Linda, Diane and Barbra visited Australia. While the inaugural Trans-Pacific game consisted of only a few players, this game was played on a larger scale, with two teams representing each continent.

Craig donned the required collared golfing shirt too, and for his first time out on the course performed fabulously under the tutelage of Dave, who happened to be a very experienced golfer.

Nevermind the skills, how about those CALVES!

And in similar fashion to that epic 1983 America's Cup win, Australia romped home, winning back the trophy.

James and Russell, representin'

And if our PM these days wasn't so prim, he may have made a statement like this:

Meanwhile, back at the homestead, a team of kitchen whizzes (led by the dynamic Georgia) chopped, rolled, folded and marinated their way through the afternoon in preparation for the big Greek feast that evening. On the menu was lamb, bison, spanikopita triangles, saganaki, dolmades and a multitude of salads.

There was also a well-stocked bar of spirits, beers and wines, as well as a gigantic bottle of Crown Royale (so big, it had a handle!).

It was bigger than this one

In keeping with the tradition of supping Crown Royale, we clutched our plastic cups in wait for Billy's mark, then downed the shot and marked our cups to keep track. In case you're wondering, the Crown Royale tradition has roots in my pre-drinking days, and I didn't think to ask of the origins. All I know is, you don't drink it until Billy says you can (and thankfully, he always does).

So dinner was big, Greek and fun. Other things probably happened around this time, but my memory of events is sketchy here. So let's move on to the grand finale!

Remember the two boxes of silly string?

ahh, memories

Gene has evil thoughts

The front yard erupted into a frenzy of silly string, flung water balloons, hose sprays and bucket splashes as people rushed around, grabbing supplies and launching them at each other.

James and Barbra get strung

Billy goes straight for the big guns

Superman (aka Anthony) also loves silly string

Jordan goes all Apocalypse Now

Pistols at dusk

Eliana's finger rarely leaves the trigger

Barbra cops it sweet

Billy has a way with buckets...

Linda, keepin' it sane, until the string clears

Soon, just about everyone had copped a share of water and/or silly string, and supplies had dwindled to the last few gassy spurts from the silly string cans.

The newbie cops a beating

Kathy calls shenanigans!

Gabe, string-shocked

Lidy beams while Jim seeks the truth

Barbra senses the end of famfest is near...

The silly string army assembled for a group photo...

...and the Trans-Pacific trophy was presented.

Then, as it was Barbra's birthday, we all lustily sang 'Happy Birthday' and presented her with a cake, which was then 'presented' to others in the form of a smear of icing across the face.

Craig shows off his new t-shirt

documenting history; showing future generations how we once lived

Later, after the sun had set and the fireflies returned, the Ashdown clan stood in front of the Chakos clan while Russell spoke emotionally on how much the US-Australia connection means to us antipodeans. And then we did our best to desecrate America the Beautiful by using awful singing voices and substituting the word America for Australia. Luckily for us, we got laughs rather than a run out of town.

And from there, it was on to the grand, grand finale:

Remember the packs of fireworks?

ahh, more memories

Well they had been placed in the yard and were promptly set alight, sending streams of sparks into the sky.

So with the silly string cans expended and the fireworks fizzled out, it was time for us to head with Gene to Louisville, from where we were to commence our flights back home in the morning. Before flying home though, there was one more event to attend. Gene and his housemate Marshall had arranged a table in the VIP area of a local club called Hotel. By the time we arrived in Louisville, Craig, who was clutching to his last thread of consciousness, waved the 'Swejt Jeepet, I is tired' flag and headed to bed. So Gene and I headed off to meet Marshall.

Sadly, we'd arrived a little late (1am) to catch all the party guests, but we still had a great time with Marshall and Tom, seated high above the dancefloor, waving our 1-litre bottles of absolut and occasionally jumping up for a boogie. Despite my fringe being lank with frosting and feeling inadequately dressed among my blinged-out fellow VIPs and lingerie-bedecked waitresses, I had a great time. The people watching alone was impressive, and I am yet to wipe the memory of the 40-something dude being lapdanced by his 20-something girly (during which he took several macro photos of her butt) while four of her friends--all dressed in white--dirty-danced with each other nearby. It was like some kind of Eyes Wide Shut affair.

I kept the VIP wristband on for a few days, admittedly

And sadly, after just a couple of hours we were headed back to Gene's and Marshall's for a few hours sleep before heading off to the airport...

Texan layover

...and the 27+ hour journey home.

Day 13, Friday
Campbellsville, Kentucky
Hot and sunny!
This post by: Craig

Sleeping in is for the WEAK! Sadly, we were weak. We missed most of breakfast, but because we were headed for a day at the lake, there was no time to lose (but there was a little time for more cornhole)!

After scamming a ride in Tommy’s Mustang convertible,

…we hit the lake. Now, we thought this was going to be a lakeside picnic day, but no – the Chakos family had hired 4 boats, and we spent the whole day actually ON (and in) the lake! It was fully awesome!

There was JUMPIN'...

… there was BOMBIN’...

... there was SLIDIN’...

... there was GOOFIN’...

... there was SPEEDIN’...

...and there was TOOBIN’!!!

"That was the most violent
butt-massage I've ever had"
-- Diane Chakos

Jordan attempts to, "DO SUMTHIN' CRAZY!"

Overall, it was the best day ever, and we'd like to thank everyone involved for organising it! Oh yes!

Viva la FamFest '09!

And oh yeah… there was SUNBURNIN’

And then, with the echoes of the Chakos boys still ringing in our ears (“DOO SUHH-UMM CRAZEEE! DOO SUHH-UMM CRAZEE!”), night fell. After another awesome meal, courtesy of Georgia and the gang, and a slideshow of the day’s photos, and Crystal singing “I’m too sexy for my hair… I’m too sexy for my glutes… I’m too sexy for my warm-down…” to the WHOLE ROOM…

…we got to experience the strange night life that is Campbellsville… the nightlife that happens when you’re in a dry county. You think people get crazy when they drink, check out what they do when they don’t!

First up, CRUISING. Cars gather from all over the county and drive a particular circuit around the main town, following each other like some kind of Love Train, without the love. Note that these are all single-lane roads, so there’s not even a chance to sidle up beside another car and strike a conversation, just drive, turn, drive, stop, drive, turn, repeat…

Then there’s LOITERING. Along the cruising circuit, people gather in small packs, usually around someone’s pickup truck. The sites are not significant… outside a closed pharmacy, behind a supermarket… and people just kinda sit around. There’s no drinking (you can have your whole group arrested by having a single open beer bottle), so there’s just… loitering…

To relieve the weirdness of the CRUISING and the LOITERING, there’s also LAPPING, which is getting out of the car at red lights and running around like mad things before jumping back in the car when the lights go green (although I suspect this might be an activity unique to Barbra, Crystal, Kristina and Alena).

So anyway, with the absence of bars and clubs, the people do what anyone would do under these circumstances. They go hang out at the 24 hour Wal-Mart at 2 in the morning. Yes, WAL-MART.

There was talk of grabbing small tricycles and racing them through the aisles until being kicked out (cousin Jordan has allegedly done this!) but we only got as far as throwing balls around and having shopping cart fun before Security started descending.

Gene picks up a bargain, Aisle 4

So we eased it back a little, to stave off being arrested. Wal-Mart in Campbellsville. “I’m sorry, you can’t buy booze. Would you like to buy a handgun?”