The Coffee Talk Companion: "A Sticky Situation."

The Coffee Talk Companion is an ongoing feature in which we dissect and discuss former Facts of Life star Lisa Whelchel's online journal entries.



It's part two of the non-bike bike trip, people! And, boy are there some non-surprise surprises in store. What say you grab a cup of maple syrup and some maple syrup and read on?

Last time we talked, my mom and I were sitting at an adorable restaurant in Woodstock, Vermont enjoying a bowl of chili, playing cards, and missing my grandmother. Next, the waitress brought the chicken with ranch dressing flatbread. Imagine pizza with extremely crisply crust. Delicious.

We love how Lisa refers to her blog as "talking." As if her readers have a chance to respond to her prattle. Really, it's the perfect forum for her.

Oh, and what the Christ is "chicken with ranch dressing flatbread"? We don't believe for a second it has anything to do with pizza because we don't believe Lisa has ever seen a pizza. You can't fry pizza, right?

While in Boston we tried to eat everything indigenous to New England. Today we were on our maple syrup kick. We ate Maple syrup cotton candy and maple dipped cashews earlier, so for dessert we ordered a maple syrup ice cream sundae. Yummy! You can tell we aren’t real bikers.

We could tell you weren't bikers without the help of 1,424 fucking maple syrup concoctions, thank you. However, with the mention of said treats, we'll be forced to now think of you as fat non-bikers.



Our guide, Michelle, showed up toward the end of our meal with her fruit and yogurt lunch. We secretly laughed at her until it was time to get back on our bikes and ride the 22 miles back to the Inn.

What!?! Michelle has been nothing but accommodating to these two fat non-bikers, and they go laugh at her for eating a healthy, ENERGY-RICH snack?

What pious assholes. Srsly.

We quickly realized we were going to have to let all this food digest a bit first. So, we HAD to go shopping.

Undoubtedly with Michelle as chauffeur/hostage.

Last week, the lady who is in charge of all the wardrobe for the upcoming Bible Study DVD filming came to my house to see what I had in my closet that we could use for the taping. Besides being a stylist, she is also an image consultant. That means she is qualified to help you with an extreme makeover.

Good. When can she come over? We've been dying for a makeover ever since they started making those almond M&Ms and we let ourselves go to pieces. Pieces!

I was very excited when she offered to go through my closet and throw out anything I shouldn’t be wearing according to my age, body type, coloring, etc. I didn’t anticipate how painful this could be. She hauled off large garbage bags of some of my favorite outfits, many I have been wearing since my children were born. (I guess that was why she threw them out.)

Oh, to have been the hobo who went through that trash pile. Actually, would any readers in Texas want to find him to interview him? It'll be pretty easy—he'll be the one sleeping under the enormous tent that looks like this...



I later found out that she told a mutual friend that if she had really thrown out everything that I shouldn’t be wearing I would have to walk around naked until I could afford to buy all new clothes.

We're honestly trying to figure out if Lisa walking around naked would be much worse than her walking around in her clothes of choice.

Sorry. Of course it would be.

Well, at least we have a new BFF: the stylist.

Not that this is really new information. I get teased about my lack of style all of the time. Actually, I do have a style it is called “Comfort” with a capital “C.” Apparently, comfort doesn’t translate well on camera.

Nor in places outside of Mars.

All that to say, I needed to go shopping. So, I bought a cute pair of corduroy pants, a pair of shoes and the most authentic Vermont looking sweater I could find. Super-duper comfy. My favorite kind. (I’m going to be sure and hide it before the stylist comes over again.)

Witness here a perfect example of Whelchian logic:

1.) Stylist tells Lisa what clothes do not work for her.

2.) Lisa defines taboo clothes as "Comfort" clothes.

3.) Stylist gets rid of "Comfort" clothes.

4.) Lisa needs to buy new clothes.

5.) Lisa buys "Comfort" clothes.

We probably could have illustrated that theory in two steps, but, in true Whelchel spirit, we decided to explain something simple difficultly.

We were finally ready to make the long trek back.

Wait for it...

We met Michelle at the van to load our packages.

Last week we wanted to punch Michelle. This week we feel it would be more correct to refer to her as St. Michelle of Assisting Fat Non-Bikers Around Vermont.

She informed us that we really didn’t have time to make it all the way back before dinner.

Of course.

We were genuinely disappointed.

Of course.

So, she drove us about nine miles down the road and dropped us off so we could ride the remaining 13 miles. We felt great and so proud of ourselves when we finally rode into town just in time for another fabulous dinner!

Honestly, we're kind of too angry to come up with anything amusing. Sorry. Not angry. Seething.

I have to admit, by the time dinner was over that evening the soreness was already setting in rapidly.

Yeah, fucking ingesting maple syrup Hot Pockets and Twinkies will get the best of anyone.

We hurt all over, especially…okay, how to put this delicately…let’s just say that I’ve had three c-sections but I’m fairly certain I now know what the day after a traditional delivery feels like.

Oh, just say it, Lisa. Your vag hurt. If god made your body, god made your vag. It's OK to talk about it. We've all seen one!

Well, most of us.

Oh! And allow us to go ahead and assume the pain is not from biking.

We figured a nighttime soak in the hot tub was just what our tired muscles needed.

Yeah, that's not gonna help.

The next morning we woke up thankful that the sky was clear so we could ride the entire 25 mile trip. We got an early start and especially enjoyed today’s route with lots of back roads and beautiful covered bridges. I strapped on my ipod, popped in one earplug (I left one out so I could hear traffic, etc.) and set my playlist to my favorite motion picture soundtracks. I imagined myself in a slow-motion montage, riding through the fall foliage, with David Foster and Dave Grusin scoring my journey with their incomparable musical genius.

That's funny—we just imagined ourselves in a slow-motion montage killing David Foster and Dave Grusin with fall foliage. But we do have to say, we're very glad Lisa left one ear unplugged for traffic. She really sets a good example for her readers. If you ignore every other paragraph. Of every other Coffee Talk. Ever.

Oh, and, Steve Jobs, were you aware that Lisa has an iPod? Is that, like, OK?

Later in the day, I selected Josh Grobin and had a spiritual experience all in itself as my front wheel barreled through freshly fallen orange, red, purple, and yellow leaves. I’m not kidding you, just as Josh and Charlotte Church crescendoed in their duet, “The Prayer,” a strong breeze swept through the trees and leaves start swirling from everywhere. It felt like I was in the middle of a snow globe, except I was surrounded by beautiful leaves.

Allow us to work this out mathematically:

If Josh Grobin + Charlotte Church + leaves = Lisa Whelchel spiritual experience (LWSE), then LWSE ≤ chili and sea bass

We'll clarify in movie critic's terms. The sophomore effort, while certainly worthwhile and enjoyable, arguably did not equal the astonishing debut.



I can’t even begin to express the worship I entered into when I tuned my ipod to CeCe Winans “Throne Room” while riding through views like the one in the picture.

See, Mr. Jobs. She thinks you tune an iPod. It's not a radio, lady!

Along the way, we stopped at a working maple syrup farm.

Oh, for the love of god.

We learned so much. This was the only time I wished my kids were with me. (The homeschool teacher in me, I guess.)

1.) Ouch. We feel for you, Tucker, Clancy and Haven. Well, Tucker. Kind of.

2.) We just want to make sure, Lisa, that the homeschool teacher in you knows that "The homeschool teacher in me, I guess" is not a sentence.



The couple who own and run the farm let us taste-test all the different grades of syrup. (And I thought there was only the one kind we bought at Costco.) We also discovered a new treat, maple cream. We determined we would have to also come back in the winter when they have maple snow ice cream day. The farms allow families to visit with their spoons while they pour maple syrup on the snow and let the kids dig in. Sounds like so much fun!

Sounds like a fucking sugar headache is what it sounds like. Jesus. How much maple syrup can one human consume? (We only ask because we want to know if it's less than or equal to the amount of maple syrup one Lisa Whelchel can consume.)

Sadly, about fifteen miles into the day’s ride, it started to pour rain like buckets, complete with thunder and lightning. My mom and I tried to keep riding but the rain was blinding and Michelle determined it was too dangerous. I couldn’t believe what a difference one day and 50 miles could make. We were extremely disappointed. We were having so much fun and we weren’t tired at all.

ARRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHH! You know why we're angrier than ever here, right? Right? We don't have to explain this one, right?

Still, I had a strange peace about the aborted ride. I just knew our very sovereign God was up to something.

Wow. "Aborted" and "God" just seven words away from each other. We're kinda proud of you, Whelchel. Still totally angry. But a little proud.

We soon found out what it was. Between packing up, driving in traffic and getting lost on the way to the rental car company, there was every possibility that we would have missed our flight – again. And, this was the last flight out for the night. I’m so glad that when Steve isn’t there to take care of me, that God still is.

So basically Lisa is saying that because god did not allow her and her mom to finish the bike ride, the reason they came to Vermont in the first place, they had time to return to being assholes about everything else. Nice work, god.

My mom and I played cards almost the whole flight home. Can you believe she came back from behind and beat me?! I guess she’ll be eating a juicy steak soon. I’m so thankful we took my Nanny’s advice and hopped on that train – and our bikes!

Just to clarify, the train is the Nanny's proverbial train. The plane is how they really got home. And the bikes are what they did not ride.

Anyway, that brings us to the end of this week's Coffee Talk. We hope you didn't enjoy Lisa and her mom's non-bike bike trip in Vermont as much as we didn't. We just want to point out, in case you missed it with all the maple syrup smoke and mirrors Lisa conjured up, that we think it's quite interesting that a purportedly godly woman like Lisa would go on a group trip and not mention word one about anyone in the group. Isn't her job as a Christian supposed to involve talking to people, getting to know them, bringing them together, sharing the joy etc? All we get is how much she and her mom took advantage of the group leader. And without one word of thanks from either of them.

This is the perfect example, friends, of why we, as Jews, don't feel one bit of regret for killing Christ.

See you soon!