Day 37: Medora, The Sequel

Medora is a very cool little town indeed. Which is, of course, why Earl and I spent most of the day hanging out in the hotel room.

What can I say? 37 days is a long time to be on the road, and the day before had been a wee tad exhausting. Fairy tales and driving and steaks and storms and wrecks, oh my. We were both starting to fray.

We did get out and wander around a bit. Earl wanted to hit a local family fun park which boasts the world’s largest inflatable slide, but with winds whipping in the 20-30mph range, they were closed. So we strolled and shopped in the drizzling rain while she sulked and everybody ever employed by my insurance agent’s office called to make sure we were okay.

Yes, we’re fine. Can you just make the wind stop so my child can go slide? No? Some good you are.

Anyhoo…

The Pitchfork Fondue was yummy enough and reasonably priced enough that Earl and I decided to hit it again. When the time rolled around, we headed up the hill extra early to get a good spot in line.

At least the clouds were dispersing.

The wind, however, was a problem. They couldn’t get the vats lit, one guy burned himself in the process, and the fondue was moved back down into town to a local buffet joint.

The staff looked petrified, like someone had just waltzed in and said, “Hey, party of 300 for dinner in half an hour?” Because, well, that’s pretty much what happened, I think.

But they pulled it off flawlessly, if not a few minutes behind schedule. I didn’t blame them in the least. Earl entertained me by giving me the last few days of the trip in facial expressions:

We’d scored a table for two by the window on the best side of the building, which meant we got to go through the food line first. By the time the last person got in line, we were done and posing with the bison.

Our tickets from the previous night’s cancelled Medora Musical had been rebooked for that night, so it was back up to the hill for us, where they were starting to let folks down into the amphitheater.

It’s a long way down there. Long enough there are two insanely long escalators to take folks down the hill. If, by some bad luck, you have to get back up to your car before they reverse the escalators at the end of the show, there’s a ramp full of switchbacks you can climb. I patted myself for having all my ducks in a row: coats, blanket, license and credit card. There wasn’t anything I could think of that we might need back in the car.

We got in line for concessions, the girl gathered our order, I handed her my credit card, and she rolled her eyes. “We only take cash.”

So much for having my ducks in a row. I hadn’t thought to tuck cash in my pocket. It was locked in the car.

Dangit.

Back up the hill.

I left Earl to stare at the popcorn, drooling while the girl wouldn’t let her touch it, while I scaled the hill. A guy with a golf cart had just dropped an elderly couple at the bottom of the ramp, though, and he took pity and drove me back up. Twenty minutes later (it was a long way up, a long way to the car, and a long way through the line back down), I paid for our food and earned another eye roll from the girl behind the counter.

Our seats were excellent.

Jared Mason, who’d performed a stint at the Medora Musical before going on to Broadway as Jerry Lee Lewis in Million Dollar Quartet, came out and did a couple of songs for us, including “Great Balls of Fire” and a crazy awesome yodeling run.

He was just a taste, though, of what lay ahead.

Medora Musical is not quite what I expected. It was more musical variety show than the musical performances I’m used to. There was a good balance of cheese, patriotism, plain ol’ fun, Teddy Roosevelt (because Dakotas), and Mr. Bubble.

Yes! The same man who started the Medora Musical came up with Mr. Bubble! Which explains the random Mr. Bubble shirts mixed in with western themed Medora gear in the gift shop!

They called all the kids in the audience up on stage for a picture (it’s their 50th year and they’re putting the nightly photos in a time capsule to be opened in another 50) and gave them each little bottles of the bath goodness. Yay for free souvenirs!

Tennessee was well represented by Candice Lively from Strawberry Plains. Earl was very excited to see a face from home, even if she’s a complete, but very talented, stranger.

The highlight of the evening for me, though, was the featured act, The Chicago Boyz. It was dark and my battery was dying (yes, again) by the time they took the stage, but their acrobatics and jumprope skills and absolute personalities were amazing.

I could have watched them for hours, no lie. So entertaining and just oozing with positivity and fun.

It was getting late, though, and the later it got, the colder it got. We both had on coats and I’d grabbed a blanket out of the car, but we were still cold. Earl got a hot chocolate, but it leaked everywhere, and despite our best efforts to stay in good moods, the remnants of yesterday, over a month of travel, and the cold got to us.

By the time we left our seats after the show, we were snipping at each other. By the time we got to the parking lot, we were flat out fighting. By the time we got back into town, we were both in tears. By the time we got to the hotel, we had talked it out and forgiven each other and, to some degree, ourselves.

Although that last one is sometimes the hardest.

I’m the mom. I should always be good. But I’m human, so I’m not. I screw up, and while Earl may forgive me that downfall, I’m not always sure I do. Especially when I know my bad behavior has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me. Especially when, with the passage of a few hours, I don’t even remember what got us both so riled up in the first place.

It brought us closer in the end, though. This whole trip has.

And we are, sadly, blessedly, happily, approaching the end.