May 17 2007
Hello Cleveland!
- What day is it now?
- What State am in?
- Who am I?
- How the fuck did George Bush get elected President?
Yes, all of these are reasonably valid questions at this point. However, given a few minutes, I may actually be able to answer them all (well, at least in a non-existential way, of course).
As for the day, at this point, I’m pretty certain that it’s now Thursday. I drove for 17 hours on Tuesday – from Houston to Phoenix. And for any of you not following (let alone still reading), I did so in an open-air Jeep Wrangler dragging an 8′x5′ trailer full of furniture that I’ve now given away – like all my other worldly possessions – to someone else.
Yeah, I’m pretty damn smart, huh?
Needless to say, Tuesday was not a fun day.
I do this every time I drive cross-country.
What starts out as being a slow, relaxing tour of the country quickly devolves into my own little version of The Cannonball Run, thanksfully sans Dom DeLuise.
This time, after about 7-8 hours of that purportedly “relaxing” drive, I realized that rather than visiting the world’s largest ball of twine, I wanted nothing more than to get to Pheoenix so I could finally, stop, fucking, driving.
Thus, the 17 hour debacle of the other day.
Despite my attempts to avoid any scenery, I was still treated to some interesting sights, including the obligatory tumbleweeds crossing my path in New Mexico during one of the gnarliest lightning storms I’ve ever seen (it’s also quite fun to hear not one, not two, but three seperate “Emergency Warning System” alerts while driving through the areas then subject to the pending Wrath of God).
In East Texas, I also realized just why George Bush was elected President. In particular, while stopped for gas in some BFE town, the guy at the next pump from me was dressed in the stereotypical Wrangler jeans, cowboy boots, cowboy hat, with a rope attached to one hip and a pistol holstered at his other hip, at the ready just in case “one o’ dem dere hippy surfer types showed up spoutin’ some terrorist liberal shi-at.”
I kept my head down and pretended to chew tobacco. Hell, I ain’t even left the U.S. yet — if I’m gonna get shot, I’d rather it be by some Indonesian pimp as a result of too much price-haggling.
Yesterday, I took a day to regain what little of my mind I’ve left, and to relax and hang out with some old friends here in Phoenix.
But I made it this far, next is Vegas/L.A. to go hang out with the other blogging geniuses I know (sans TK, who is apparently too cool to visit Denver, the Sunshine State).
Yeah, I know, I used the word “sans” twice in this post … I told you I was wicked fuckin’ smaht.
3 Responses to “Hello Cleveland!”
Why is it that every state you visit seems to experience some kind of Book of Revelations type event…..raging fires in Florida, massive lightning storms in New Mexico……What’s next? Frogs falling from the sky in Vegas? Are all the first born in Phoenix gonna go all Falwell after you leave?
You really should’ve disclosed that you’re one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse before asking for a ride to the airport. I’m just sayin’.
Nice link. 142.
Did you just rip me for the no-show AND for my Boston accent? That’s wicked retahded.
You’re dead to me, Matthew. You hear me? If we see each other walking down the street… you go your way, I’ll go mine. Don’t even look at me.
And Manny’s right – you’re like one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse out there… hmmm….