This is the mother of all casinos. Foxwoods, near Mystic, Connecticut. It’s owned by the Pequots. Wonder where I was when I took this poor photo? (It really is a massive complex that you have to see to believe.) We were high atop the observation tower at the pequot museum.
This guy sat on the chamber pot on the Mayflower II and answered my questions. He was friendly enough. When I asked if I could take his photo, he said “I haven’t got one.” Then he rambled on and on about how pleasant I was. Ok.
When disembarking the ship, we had to go through customs. I’m not making this up. The Wampanoag Immigration Patrol Customs Division was set up at the end of the gangplank. (Is that what they call that board you walk on?) Some sample questions on their form: Destination in Wampanoag Nation: (Patuxet, aka Plymouth) Other Native Nations visited since arrival on Turtle Island (this continent): I answered Pequot. The girl at the inquiry table loved that we went to the Pequot museum. She was, of course, Wampanoag. I had to agree to attend a minimum of one powwow or public cultural event and learn the history of the Wampanoag Nation. Also, to refrain from participating in any practices that would, among other things, use sports logos or gestures perpetuating old stereotypes. So I won’t be attending any sporting events at Teton High School. (As if I ever did. Time to retire the Redskin logo, folks.) At the end of the inquiry, I did receive a passport stamp. So I’m here legally. Randy sneaked away and is on the lam.
I just noticed that Grand Targhee has already had 63″ of snow this year. The long winter has almost begun–Mother has moved indoors to walk in the morning. She has a key to the church and she and Dad walk around and around the cultural hall. She told me he’s keeping up to her, lap by lap. Church or no church, what a miracle that is. 
