wise guy, eh?

This joke was sent by one of my old chemistry professors. It isn't a new joke, but it is a favorite and I want to be able to see it whenever I want!
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You are on a horse galloping at a constant speed.
On your right side is a sharp drop off.
On your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you.
Directly in front of you is another galloping horse but your horse is unable to overtake it.
Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the horse in front of you.
What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?

[SCROLL DOWN for the ANSWER]













Answer:
Get your butt off the merry-go-round!
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Today marks the anniversary of my visit to The Merry-Go-Round Museum in Sandusky. How did I end up there? Wandering around in O-hi-O and surroundings last summer on my Midwest-Canada Adventure, as the bfe titled it.
I had started the trip with my focus on The Field of Dreams, as you may recall. Well, that's what I told folks was my primary rationale, but I also wanted to spend more time with the bfe, back when I was crazy delirious and had fingernails. Twelve hours in the car together up to Cincinnati and environs, then another twelve hours on the way back should do quite nicely in the "getting to know each other" realm.
But that's not my focus here.
How did I end up in Sandusky, admiring painted ponies?
Well, you know how one thing leads to another? The Fixx certainly nailed that one!
Ahem! Back on topic? Right?
Right. So, my original travel plans were to drop off the bfe at his folks' house in the sticks of O-hi-O, then get up the next day and bop up to Ontario to visit one of my Sues and her daughter, cross back over to Detroit and see the ex and the Adams, travel to Iowa for some corn-gazing, then, if time permitted, shoot down to northern Tennessee to visit some family and friends before returning to pick up the bfe for our return southward.
Yeah. Well. That is most assuredly not how it all worked out. You know why, right? You betcha: my blonde roots necessitated an immense change of plans.
You see, one needs a passport to travel to Canada. A passport. Mine had remained in Georgia, sadly. At one point before the trip, I had gone to the safe deposit box and retrieved it, placing it into my travel bag to be sure I would not forget it. Then, as I was packing, I had emptied the travel bag of all the packets of coffee and plastic ziploc bags and empty vitamin containers...and my passport. And somehow, somehow, I had managed to convince myself that I had placed the passport back into the bag.
Alas, no. After my late arrival at the hotel, I had crashed out, only to be awakened at 5 AM by a thought: I didn't see the passport when I was unpacking here. No, that can't be right. I remembered putting it into my bag. Well, I didn't see it when we got here. Really, I have to get out of bed to reassure myself that it's here? Fine.
But the passport was not in my bag. It was not in my purse. It was not in the car.
It was not in the bag. I took everything out and put everything back in three times.
Nope, no passport.
I did the same with my purse. Then, I rummaged through the car.
Nope, no passport.
A frantic series of phone calls to my first niece, telling her where the passport was (or so I thought, but I was wrong in my memory. Fortunately, she did find it.), having to wait for her to get home from work to go look for it, to send it by overnight post to Michigan. Phone calls to the Adams, rearranging the visit day, asking for her to watch for my passport and let me know when it arrived. Phone calls to the ex, letting him know of the change in plans, hoping he could still work it into his schedule. Emails to the Windsor Sue, letting her know of the change in schedule and hopes to still visit.
Sheesh.
Then, what to do?
Well, I still wanted to go to the Field of Dreams. I had a day wide open before me, with its schedule all askew. Why not head in that direction and see if I could make it there in time? That would certainly distract me from this tangled mess, especially with Dire Straits (Communique) and Def Leppard (High 'n' Dry), on repeat, to keep me company.
So, off I went, making it to that baseball diamond in the cornfields in plenty of time to do what I went there to do. I'm so glad I had the Nuvi to guide me, because the corn was taller than my car and there were NO signs to point the way to that special field.
But it was DONE! I could cross that destination off my list and head elsewhere.
I made it to Rockville, Illinois, just before nightfall. As luck would have it, I had reserved a room there - for Wednesday. That was still two days away. Would they switch it for me?
Yes, yes, they would! Wow!
Then I talked with my first niece. She had found the passport, on my bed, not on the couch. She had successfully mailed it to the Adams' correct address (I'd had the street name slightly wrong, but the post office straightened it out). The passport would be arriving in Troy, Michigan, on Tuesday in the early afternoon.
I talked with the Adams. As good fortune would have it, she would be home all day on Tuesday, so she would be sure to stay until it arrived. Also, did I have a place to stay yet? No? Good, she said, you can stay with me.
Very nice! Wow!
The ex and the Sue both reassured me that the change in my plans was still going to work for them.
Yea!!! Incredible!

The next day, I headed toward Detroit, passing by Wrigley Field, traveling the toll road through Illinois and Indiana. (Not especially by choice, but because Nuvi doesn't differentiate between toll roads and free roads. Sigh.) I lunched at Theo and Stacy's on fabulous Greek salad and a piled-too-high-to-pick-it-up gyro.

I arrived in Troy before rush hour, preceded by my passport. Yea! Then the Adams and I waited for the ex to get off work and sashay on down from Saginaw. Then off we went their old stomping grounds in Warren for some Buddy's Pizza and Erma's Forzen Custard. Those are must-haves for Michiganders .. and those who love them!

Finally, on Wednesday, August 1, 2012, I was on my way to the Great White North! Woohoo! After a trip to London to visit the younger daughter and to dine on Chinese, Sue and I stopped off to get coffee. Where? Need you ask? "Fresh, friendly, familiar" - it may be the mantra of Tim Hortons, but it also describes my Canadian contingent!
The next morning, we said our goodbyes and the border guards allowed me re-entry to the 'States. Where to go? I didn't have to meet up with the bfe for two days. So, that meant this was "free time"! I could have gone to Tennessee, but then I would have been rushed to get there and rushed to get back to the 'Nati. No, no more rushing!
In went the Tom Jones (the lead and how to swing it), bringing to mind Mother Pat and that concert in Las Vegas for her birthday. Well, I had never seen her headstone... off to the cemetery, then. With a little help, I located her plot, as well as those for her parents and younger sister. The rose-hued stone really would have pleased her, I think.

Then off to points south, just barely ahead of the early lunch crush. I drove until a sign caught my eye: Luna Pier. "Luna", you say? That sounds like me! Oh, wait, that should be "looney", maybe. I dined on Lake Erie yellow perch, wandered around on the beach and in the tiny town, then hit the road again, refreshed.

Where to next? Well, the visitor center pointed toward the museum in Wapakoneta, only an hour down the road. Sah-weet! Space travel and Neil Armstrong! I would even have a couple of hours to spend there before closing. Very good! And, when I joined that museum, as I do when traveling, they told me my card would also give me discounted admission to other museums in the USA. Like which ones? Well, the Merry-Go-Round Museum in Sandusky, for one.
No kidding? A museum dedicated to carousels and painted ponies?
And THAT, my dear, is how I ended up in Sandusky.