So, a week since my last missive, and how have I been occupying myself, I hear you crying into your cornflakes.

Well,
'It has to be said' not been doing a lot 'rightly'. I have wandered the University of Indiana Campus, gazed upon their
folly (Just Sooooo Victorian), marvelled at America's largest student union (kind of like the Glasgow University Union on
steroids), and pointed at fraternity houses.
I have attended three Brew-it-themselves pubs without getting drunk and one winery, where I did. I have traipsed
through the 'Wilderness' and helped rearrange furniture. I have even seen Bloomington's more liberal side.

So, Bloomington, Indiana is one of those towns you hear described as 'Middle America'. A picturesque main street,
with only a light smattering of franchises and a reasonable number of independents, running from the County Court
House, all domed and be-statued, to the University Sample Gates. It turns out that these gates were donated by the
Sample family, and are not, in fact, mearly a suggestion for future gates, but it did take me a while to discover this.
Also in the University is a Folly, erected by old frat buds to commemorate the hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the
university, and the Indiana Memorial Union, a massive building where students can relax, attend conferences and pass
out due to lack of oxygen on the upper floors. Sadly they can no longer use the gun range, it having recently closed.

Just out of town is the Oliver Winery, a vinyard with attached tasting centre, where I consumed a bottle of
Chardonnay one fine morning, while Kate prepared to teach a class. This allowed me to discover that the average shop
counter bound American can understand me better when I am drunk than when I am sober. Another nail in the coffin
of temperance I feel.

Slightly further out of town is Spencer, a small town famous for its brew shack, with live Celtic music every Thursday
but no home brewed beer, as they'd run out! and its War Memorial. Apparently a new war memorial was unveiled a
couple of years ago and, when the sheet had dropped from in front of the large stone slab, the assembled journalists
and locals saw a list of all those who had served in various wars headed by the phrase 'Less we forget'. I believe you
can create interesting facial ticks in the locals by mentioning the letter T loudly.

Forty five minutes drive from leafy Bloomington is Indianapolis, state capital and all round oddity. The 'Downtown'
consists of four odd blocks of very swish looking tower blocks and what is quite possibly the worlds largest (certainly
in my experience) war memorial (to the Civil War). This small area is then surrounded by a few square miles of rubbish-filled streets, rusted-out cars and other signs of urban decay. It looks like all the city funds have gone into the town
centre, with a 'sod the lot of you' attitude to the rest. Lovely. It does have a museum all about the Native Americans,
which is

1. a good introduction to these peoples and
2. deeply ironic, as there are no Indians in Indiana. Indeed the
   state constitution had only one unopposed article when it was ratified, that no non-whites should be allowed in.

For a small respite from the hectic round of coffee shops and furniture moving that I was involved in, myself, Kate and
her significant other 'Marathon Man', Steve, went camping on Saturday night. We hiked into the Deam Wilderness an
area of forest carefully maintained, to ensure that it is as natural as possible (!), and camped by Lake Monroe, the
local man-made reservoir. Sadly I barely slept that night, due to Jon Sekada and his relatives keeping up a continuous
roar of calls and answers all night.

And finally, before coming to the library to concoct this astounding treatise, I visited a record shop, where I made firm
friends with the guy behind the counter by buying a Ruttles CD. I could grow to like this place.

P.S. A hoosier is a native of Indiana. And no one seems to know why. Incidently it is pronouced somewhere between
Who's yer and Whose Cher.

Pictures for interested parties are available.
The American Dream Part One

Munchkin

23.08.01. Front Page

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