Got up early and prevailed on Lilli to explore the joys
of Crown Center, a Hallmark-dominated shopping mall that
abuts, on one end, the Hyatt, on another, the Hallmark
headquarters, on a third, the Hall department store (the
originator of the Hallmark), and on another, our hotel.
Interspersed and interleaved are a Hallmark store, a
Crayola Cafe (where you eat things inspired by Hallmark's
brand of crayons), the Three Little Pigs BBQ (not open
at this hour), various tchotchke and card stores, and
so on. The Hallmark visitor center, an impressive P.R.
effort, used up almost an hour - including a personalized
demonstration of foil stamping and card manufacture, in
which an almost bizarrely enthusiastic and friendly
artisan showed us how he was making Bosses' Day cards,
and an infomercial about the Hall family and how, among
other greatnesses, it invented patterned wrapping paper.
As it was Mother's Day, I was given a do-it-yourself
talking book called something like I Love You, Grandma
or Grandma Loves You ,,, which I promptly gave away to
my friend Franny, who is a new grandmother.

The first official stop and the perennial highlight of BBQ
Day is Oklahoma Joe's, which is supposed to be the highest
manifestation of Kansas City bbq. It is a former gas station
just over the border in Kansas, a couple miles from downtown
KC. Sean picked up Lilli and me at the hotel, just as Eva and
Bret had finished unloading their car (moving to the Westin for
reasons not unlike ours - though it's a science, the procedure
is pretty set, with the result that people follow in each
others' footsteps quite a bit); we did a little race to the
restaurant. Sean's Garmin vs. Bret actually knowing where the
place was. Garmin took us a few blocks west of the familiar
route and wove us back and forth in and out of Kansas ... and,
guess what: we got there 5 minutes earlier. Consultation
showed that Bret had taken the route that I would have. Score
one for Garmin. At 1115 there was a line out the door ... so
we had 20-25 minutes to peruse the menu. My choice was the
burnt ends sandwich - the only way to get burnt ends on this
menu, though I hate paying for bread - ; Sean wanted brisket
and a side of fries; Lilli was hungry for pulled pork. I'd
say that the brisket, trimmed lean in the fashionable way,
was the least of the lot. Burnt ends weren't quite fatty
enough (my constant whine - I think they actually throw away
the best part, accustomed to tourists not being able to eat
it) but were very smoky and tasty; the pork won, the
subcutaneous fat mixed in with the meat, causing it to have
this wonderful texture and taste. Boulevard ale on draft.

Eva's youngish cutish friend Vija, whom I'd met in Alaska,
had preceded us here but joined the next table, pushed up
against ours (you stake out a space, first come first served,
and as people leave, you try to consolidate more territory,
in a sort of Stratego game way); more fun that way. I
negotiated a swap with Bret and Eva of some of our stuff for
a rib off his full rack; with this came gratis offers of
onion rings, slaw, more French fries, and beans; I tasted
none of these, while Sean and Lilli I think did - though a
meatarian, she'll taste slaw and such in the interests of
science; he's an equal opportunity eater. The rib was very
smoky and perhaps a little on the lean side.

While in line, we encountered our eccentric friends Terry
and Mo and their buddies; there was no room in this particular
inn, though, so they ended up sitting elsewhere.

Despite our plans to pace ourselves, not to buy too much at
each stop, we'd obviously overeaten, and the suggestion was
made to visit the Airline History Museum and work off our
surfeit by tramping around some planes.

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