Happy. New Year.

I WIN!!!

But I don't want to choose the second topic. That's for whomever comes in second.

And I hope you all like your gifts.

I love you as much as I love pilfering supplies.

Hugs,

Laura Elizabeth Cecelia Bassett.

The Ultimate Missouri Compromise

To All:

Please accept my deepest apologizes for the tardiness of this post

Sincerely
Andrew Bassett

What A Country! (Or Evan's Missouri Compromise Short Story That Could Be A lot Better)

St. Louis was a pit stop. We nearly wanted to refill our tank before getting on the road. The majesty of the gateway arch was inspiring, but it didn’t exactly compel anyone to kick the shoes off their feet and stay awhile.  Rather it’s imposing figure spake unto us and said, “Ignore our Anheuser-Busch brewery and the Bowling Hall of Fame and keep going west young man. You wouldn’t stop just inside the pearly gates of heaven and just hang out there for eternity.  No, you’d want to see what lies beyond.  There’s an entire Western United States out there.  If we’re going to let you through that door at least make it past the foyer.”

Truth be told, we hadn’t planned on going much further than the foyer. Our sights were stubbornly trained on the “Live Entertainment Capital of The World,” none other than Branson, Missouri. 

It wasn’t the wholesome family atmosphere that drew the axles of our 1998 Honda Civic into Branson’s gravitational pull, but the comic stylings of one man who many years before had instilled in us that the land of the free and the home of the brave was the most wonderful place on earth.

“What a country!” was a familiar refrain as we transported ourselves from the liberal elite mecca of Brooklyn, NY into temporary and quite mobile residents of the American frontier.  Like those that came before us enduring hardship as they trekked through Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois; we were quite eager to see what Missouri had to show us. 

Fifteen hours on the road would have been thirteen, if it weren’t for whimsical stops in Allentown to listen to a Billy Joel song and Punxsutawney to attempt to smoke a Groundhog out of it’s hole.  We planned on spending the night that on our return trip to see if failing to order Sweet Vermouth on the rocks with a twist would have us stuck there forever.

We drove clean across the central portion of the state of Ohio without encountering anything of interest unless you count the college town of Columbus.  Had one of us been big ten graduates we might have been compelled to get off the interstate and badger some Buckeye fans, but for us east coast educated types, we were above such tomfoolery. Well, not above such tomfoolery, it was just a different sort of tomfoolery that motivated us.  It was pure tomfoolery that motivated our travels, just not the type that could be categorized as “antagonistic.”

Our final stop before setting foot in the Show-Me state was a brief one. I had always wondered whether or not Indianapolis had a food specialty. I’m not sure why I thought it would.  It’s just seemed like that sort of place. Buffalo has it’s wings, everyone in San Francisco seems to love garlic.  I imagined Indiana having possum fingers or something odd.  We arrived at the city limits to a sign noting we were at “The Crossroads of America.” I imagined that it was the crossroads of American cuisine as well.  Maybe there’d be a hybrid hot dog hamburger donut milkshake or something, but as we pulled over at what looked to be the first busy city street we encountered that was peppered with Hoosiers.  We made a quizzical and obnoxious inquiry from our car window to the crowd, somewhere along the lines of “What’s so great about Indianapolis?” 

Joe, who had been driving for the last three and a half hours and took comfort in being behind the wheel since he had only been involved in traffic accidents with others in control, quickly grew tired of boredom induced case of travel hysteria and got back on the highway before we were able to reach a satisfactory conclusion, brought on by a more sensible line of questioning.  He forged ahead content to make good time to the Missouri border.   

15 hours to St. Louis was right on target with our mapquest estimate.  Down the stretch we went to Branson. A restless bunch ready for a nap outside of a moving vehicle, but just as ready to take in premium comedic entertainment from the brilliant mind of one Yakov Smirnoff. 

Having fond recollections of his anecdotes of reversal about how in Soviet Russia bread waits for you, I was extremely curious as to what this laughter legend was making yokes about since the fall of Communism and what it’s appeal was to middle America. 

After witnessing a brief piece on his success on Entertainment Tonight several years back, I had talked up this cross-country expedition for years, but was met with little positive reaction and mostly blank stares.  I had somehow managed to hastily rustle up a Branson posse on the spur of the moment for a President’s day weekend. And now our posse was nearing it’s destination. 

It was nearing 5pm when we rolled into town bleary-eyed and starving.  Our first order of business though prior to crashing our hotel, was to pick up some tickets to Smirnoff’s show.  We found our way to the town’s main ticket office.  When we got there we were in for the shock of our life.  Yakov Smirnoff’s show only ran from April to December.  Being February, we either had to spend another two months in Branson or go see another show. 

Having heard our predicament the box office attendant was moved to assist us any way she could…and really the only way she was authorized to.  She gave us 4 comp tickets to Take It To The Limit A Tribute To The Eagles. 

In accordance with everyone in our group’s hatred of The Eagles, we got back in the car and drove four hours the other direction towards St. Louis.  We may have missed out on Yakov Smirnoff, but the Bowling Hall of Fame ended up being no gutterball.

What a country!

Andrew M’s Incomplete TOPIC: Missouri Compromise Submission

In researching the topic of the Missouri Compromise for inspiration for this inaugural post, I learned that two key figures in the political fight were Speaker of House JOHN TAYLOR and Main Senator JOHN HOLMES. Immediately I made the connection to two modern day men who shared those names – bass player for Duran Duran JOHN TAYLOR, and infamous 70s porn star (and Boogie Night inspiration) JOHN HOLMES.

I attempted to write jokey screenplay dialogue between the old timey Taylor and Holmes, in which they referenced aspects of the modern Taylor and Holmes. And this, unfortunately, is all I could come up with:

FADE IN:

INT. U.S. CAPITOL - DAY

Speaker of the House and Representative of New York JOHN TAYLOR meets Maine Senator JOHN HOLMES on the main floor of the U.S. Capitol.

TAYLOR
Senator Holmes, my good man! How
are you?

HOLMES
Speaker Taylor! Old friend, you
find me not well. This business
about the Missouri Compromise
weighs heavily on me.

TAYLOR
And with me, too. We are doing all
we can in the House to ensure your
state of Main is admitted to the
Union as a free state.

HOLMES
But how I lament the idea that we
shall have a Union half free, and
have slave. Surely this is not a
burden the founders wished our
country to face so early in its
young life.

TAYLOR
Indeed, the situation is quite
stressful. How do you cope?

HOLMES
I have busied my mind with the
usual pursuits; I have my books,
the nightly glass of sherry after
dinner. And, of course, the
pornography I make in my
basement...

TAYLOR
I beg your pardon? Pornography?

HOLMES
Yes. The committing of graphic
depictions of sexuality to record.
Have you not heard of it?

TAYLOR
I am a Christian, Holmes. I most
certainly have NOT! What on Earth
would posses you to do such a
thing?!

HOLMES
I have an enormous penis, Taylor.

TAYLOR
Quiet your voice, Holmes! Unless
you ENJOY the word "penis" echoing
through the Capitol rotunda!

HOLMES
(thinks for a moment)
I quite do, Taylor.

TAYLOR
I said zip it, Holmes! Jesus...

HOLMES
Forgive me. Tell me, Taylor, as
Speaker of the House, how will you
rally your fellow Representatives
to accept this compromise.

TAYLOR
The only way I know how, Holmes.
With the most stirring oratory I
can muster...perhaps followed by a
bass solo.

HOLMES
I do not understand...you'll be
singing?

TAYLOR
No, I will hold a modified cello
sideways and engage the emotions of
my fellow lawmakers through poppy,
slap-bass hooks.

HOLMES
That makes little sense to me.

TAYLOR
You should hear the lyrics...

After this, NOTHING. I couldn’t come up with any more jokes. I tried, I swear. I thought I might have been on to something with having Taylor’s powdered wig knocked off to reveal spiky New Wave hair underneath (styled with the readily available candle wax of the day), and having him correlate the state of the Union with “Union of the Snake” but, alas, I could not get there. Also, it’s hard to make porn jokes in a time when film cameras did not exist.

So I apologize for this half-post. Hopefully the next topic will be less impenetrable than 200 year old parliamentary maneuvers.

From Laura B.

***UPDATED***

Apparently Kelly and I share the same brain, so our two projects are remarkably similar. Except she did hers with real graphics, and I did mine on Microsoft Paint.

I found that the main stumbling block in this first Missouri Compromise Project project was the complete lack of knowledge of ANYTHING about the actual Missouri Compromise. In my discussions with you dudes, I have found that you all feel the same way. So, please enjoy my flowchart explaining the all-important Missouri Compromise of 1820.

It all started when Missouri, Maine, and Arkansas were getting ready to draft constitutions, the first step in becoming one of the great United States. At this time, the division of free vs. slave states was equal, and both sides wanted to keep it that way. (Fig 1.)

OF COURSE this led to all sorts of fighting, because with the admission of three new states, balance could potentially be all out of whack. (Fig. 2, as represented by a fire-breathing dinosaur, cause I thought that looked really sharp).

So then in walks Henry Clay (a/k/a the Great Compromiser), who came up with a solution. He said, and I quote: “Hey Jerks. Let’s keep the free state free and the slave state a slave state. “ Now, all of congress was up in arms about what to do about Missouri, but before they could get their 19^th Century panties in a wad, he said “Chill out. Let’s not allow slavery in ANY of the new American Territories, purchased in the aptly named Louisiana Purchase. BUT to keep you southern states happy, any place south of the Southern boundary of Missouri could decide things for themselves. (Fig. 3).

This precedent lasted for 30 years, and anytime a new state was admitted, they were admitted in tandem: one free and one slave. Now, this worked somewhat, but was eventually repealed by the Kansas Nebraska Act of 1954. (Fig. 4)

Well. Under the terms of the act, the residents of the Kansas and Nebraska territories would decide for themselves whether they would enter the Union as free or slave soil states. By repealing the Missouri Compromise, the Kansas-Nebraska Act reopened the divisive issue of slavery's expansion, and brought the United States closer to civil war. (Fig. 5 and Fig. 6 (A Civil War Re-enactor in a crystal ball))

SAN DIMAS HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL RULES!

Kelly

laura r.

Laura: are you ready to take part in the compromise project?
Andrew: i'm guessing a lot of nonsense will come of this, but also some greatness
Laura: isn't that the meaning of life?

Lets make this the best party planning blog ever...