Memorial Day in Cape Cod. Got the Stars and Stripes, check. Got the fog, check. Got the lobster rolls, let's see, more on that shortly. There's no better place to celebrate this most American of days than the picturesque region where so much of the action actually happened. It was here the Pilgrims toiled with gnarled hands and indomitable spirits for the God-given right to define football as the act of using ones hands to throw an oblong pigskin. It was here those brave Revolutionary souls laid the foundations for Iced-Venti-Half-Nonfat-Half-Soy-Easy-On-The-Ice-Lattes by chucking some crates of Earl Grey into depths of Boston Harbor. It was here those heroic Pioneers inflicted upon the Brits their greatest humiliation until the 2012 Olympics, and earned the right to drop the 'u' from that place they dumped the tea. It was here America's heritage was forged!
Don't let the early seafood choices put you off, it gets better from here. Once the fog clears anyway.
No wonder those Redcoats were reluctant to let us go without a fight. It's just like home!
The veil of fog begins to burn away, and it was worth the wait. Who let these NY fashionistas into rural Massachusetts?
Sandi's Diner is a local institution if ever there was one. You can tell by the way it takes forever for anything to actually happen. They must dread every long weekend when the city slickers roll up in their tinted SUVs in search of that country authenticity, just without any of the authentic elements, like say a laid back pace of life.
The immaculately presented town of Chatham is so picture perfect even Mitt Romney's strapping family wouldn't look out of place. Although Romneycare probably would.
How quaint, a yard sale where you can actually buy stuff for a quarter. Keep looking Mei, I think you'll find the foreclosed houses in that box between those dusty vinyls and that set of sheep shears.
There's almost enough flags here for Steven Colbert to shoot on location.
Rock and Lobster, now and forever, one and inseparable! - Daniel Webster. How eloquent, no wonder he wrote a book full of single words.
Fried oysters. A local delicacy that's so fresh they were still in the water when you were reading the introduction.
The funky streets of Provincetown. Yes the Stars and Stripes flies proudly here too, but so do the... err... rainbow stripes. If Fox News is your channel, you probably want to go back to watching O'Reilly right about now.
This is one beach where the beach babes aren't really in demand.
Along with memorizing the Pledge of Allegiance, how about you learn how to say buoy properly.
This friendly fellow isn't really used to being ridden by a man and women at the same time; usually this is a two harpoon town, if you catch my drift.
Come on dude, the lobster rolls are right around the corner.
Is anyone else noticing a bit of a rainbow theme?
Oh my, it's the 3rd annual Freedom Boat Cruise, were 'freedom' in this context is not quite how Rush Limbaugh would define it. If you look hard enough, you'll probably see the former Prime Minister of a small Pacific Island nation...
Is that a pink smoothie? How appropriate.
Let's rock this town!
Stand clear, Team J00ster is in da house. Just not that house with the rainbow flag over the door. At least as far as we know...
Peace out dude. Like that bro behind you.
The Wired Puppy knows how to fire up a good brew. In this town caffeine probably isn't the wiring of choice though.
Give me Lobster, or give me Death! - Patrick Henry. Unfortunately for poor Mr. Henry, Team J00ster already ordered them all, so it's really only the latter option left on the menu.
Out here you don't need the Moby part to bring in the crowds.
Team J00ster on the move. With a purposeful stride like that, they must be en route to dinner.
Just in case Rock fails on the how-do-I-set-the-GPS-again front, there's always the old fashioned navigational aids.
The Impudent Oyster as got to have the coolest name in the whole Cape. Turns out the food is pretty darn good too.
Today's destination: the storied Presidential retreat of Martha's Vineyard. The Kennedy's kicked off the tradition, but since they keep dropping like flies it's a good thing the subsequent presidents fell in line and continued the tradition.
Somehow I doubt this is how Michelle Obama gets there.
The best way to see the island, assuming the presidential motorcade is otherwise occupied, is on two wheels.
Jared revs up the peloton with an inspirational speech and some bags of thickened blood.
So picturesque Mei forgot to look at the road. With rather painful results.
Out here even the fires burn on island time. Hence the firemen can cruise in style.
Is that the president's house? Seems unlikely, I can't see a basketball court.
Once the US Peso goes the way of its Argentinian predecessor, llama farming will be all the rage.
This may be a liberal part of the country, but alas not quite as liberal as Bondi on a scorching day. Still too many bikini tops in position.
A shaved ice shack in the middle of a scorching stretch of road. Forget hopelessly overvalued social networks, here's a business model that actually makes money.
Memorial Day is when we remember fallen comrades. Hang on, there's something Commie about comrades. In fact Thesaurus.com lists it as synonymous with Individual Mandate.
Dinner is served.
I only regret that I have but one stomach to give for my country! - Nathan Hale. Prophetic words in the land of gastric stapletry.
The Dawn's Early Light always looks better with a steaming coffee in hand.
Newport, Rhode Island. Best known as the polished chrome gangplank that you use to transfer between your Ferrari and your super yacht.
Team NZ is fired up to win back the Auld Mug. Someone better explain to Mei what the Auld Mug is. No it's not that big silver thing that hockey players eat cereal out of.
You know, it's often easier just to insert a piece of plastic into the slot and type in a four digit number.
Patriotism comes in many forms. Like a 5.56mm double tap of justice in Abbottabad. Or a gold encrusted Eagle lifting Old Glory.
Might be 2048 before Team NZ gets her back.
A fitting end to an All American weekend: a drive past the mansions of Bellevue Avenue. Believe it or not, the 1% is nothing new folks, time to get over it.
