Julio is a madman- Mad, I tell you.
We're sitting in the 21 Diner, right in the heart of Centerville. Last night we slept on the big lawn in front of the Sheriff's Station / County Courthouse, which is also right in the heart of Centerville. Centerville is not very big.
Small town, but really nice. First settled by two white men, Henry Fry and Andrew Henry. (I don't know what the deal is with the Henry thing). The Courthouse that we slept in front of is not the original courthouse. The original courthouse was burned down by one of two Missouri militias who were fighting one another in the Civil War. A new courthouse was built, which, according to the town monument, "quickly met with a similar fate".
So the courthouse which stands today then they finally built, sometime in the 1870s. The end.
I talked for like half an hour today to an older gentleman named Don, who knows a fair amount about the town. He directed me to a water mill about a mile away. It's privately-owned, so there's no concession stand nearby, and no huge blacktop parking lot to accommodate the tourists. This mill, in Don's opinion, is the nicest mill in all of MO.
Also, by way of Don, I found something out about the new kind of heavy truck zooming around the street. They're not coal trucks, which I could see for myself. And they're not iron trucks, as I had theorized. No, this new kind of huge 'n' heavy lane-encroaching truck is: Lead truck! Great! I'm thrilled.
We stayed over in Centerville with two British east-bounders, Andy and Margaret. Andy warns us that traffic ahead may be slowed, because there is a big Donkey Rodeo. We offered Andy some apple wine, and he offered right back with some beer. And not warm ale, either, but good old cold Beast Ice. Over drinks, Andy told us to watch out, because between Ellington and Centerville are some of the nastiest drivers he and his wife have ever seen.
These drivers hoot, honk, flip you off, shout at you, and one of them in the opposing lane actually crossed the yellow line and aimed his car at Margaret, to scare her. Gulp gulp gulp!
21 August 2006
August 4, 3:19 pm, Centerville, MO
Boy oh boy, was I excited a few minutes ago. I finally found a soda machine that had good old fashioned Mr. Pibb! I put my dollar in, pushed the Mr. Pibb button... and out came Pibb Xtra.
Damn! It! All! To! Hell!
I drank the damn thing, caffeine and all. And now 'm not getting any sleep tonight. But at least I got a soda. The Pepsi machine is covered with Post It notes: "Owes Bonnie .75 ¢" "Brian $.75" "Renee 75¢" "Owes Gerry $1.75"
8/3 Farmingdale Park, Farmingdale, MO ->8.5 hrs, 04253.2
Damn! It! All! To! Hell!
I drank the damn thing, caffeine and all. And now 'm not getting any sleep tonight. But at least I got a soda. The Pepsi machine is covered with Post It notes: "Owes Bonnie .75 ¢" "Brian $.75" "Renee 75¢" "Owes Gerry $1.75"
8/3 Farmingdale Park, Farmingdale, MO ->8.5 hrs, 04253.2
August 4, 2:41 pm, Centerville, MO pop 202
Aah, Centerville. Birthplace of the comic superhero Middleman! See him rip off his dress shirt and tie to reveal... a dress shirt and a tie!
Another bad joke comes to mind - a business whose slogan is "We cut out the middleman, so you don't have to!"
Looks like we're not going to get to California, or even the Rockies. At least, not now. Kansas City, MO, you are our final destination. I wish you didn't sound so boring.
Another bad joke comes to mind - a business whose slogan is "We cut out the middleman, so you don't have to!"
Looks like we're not going to get to California, or even the Rockies. At least, not now. Kansas City, MO, you are our final destination. I wish you didn't sound so boring.
August 3, 11:40 pm, Farmington, MO
Happy Birthday Eve!
Got into MO today! Centerville, here we come..
8/2 Chester City Park, Chester, IL ->7 hrs, 04178.3
Got into MO today! Centerville, here we come..
8/2 Chester City Park, Chester, IL ->7 hrs, 04178.3
10 August 2006
August 2, 7:45 pm, Chester, IL
I've just been swimming in a gigantic 10 ft pool, filled with sparkling water as warm and welcoming as the womb. This is nice, very nice.
Ddogg and I are definitely the oldest people here, by far. This includes the lifeguards, who not only look the other way when the kids roughhouse, but also razz those kids whose antics are not amusing enough. It's funny, but also a little scary - like Our Gang, if the gang involved were the Crips.
The ifeguards have spent the last 20 minutes trying to get this tiny 4'5" girl to do a gainer off the diving board. She hasn't yet, but I think they're wearing her down.
So chester is a funny place. And it's not just the unsupervised William Golding's "Lord of the Rascals" aspect. Chester is home to Popeye.
This is a town dedicated to Popeye, whose economy revolves entirely around him. All the town banners are emblazoned with a Popeye; he's front and center on the water tower; even the Chamber of Commerce has a big fat Popeye face on it. I wouldn't kid about this. I think there's more representations of Popeye in this town than there were of Stalin in Soviet Russia.
It's great for the people of Chester now. Sure, they're living in the days of wine and roses. But what's gonna happen once ths nation-wide Popeye craze dies down?
Of course, I kid, and I kid because I love. I really like Chester. I got to stick my head into a Wimpy cutout, and eat a hamburger.
Also, the retaurant chain "Popeye's" is not named after Popeye the Sailor Man! It's named after Popeye Doyle from "The French Connection". What a world.
8/1 Motel 6, Carbondale, IL -> 7 hrs, 04116.6
Ddogg and I are definitely the oldest people here, by far. This includes the lifeguards, who not only look the other way when the kids roughhouse, but also razz those kids whose antics are not amusing enough. It's funny, but also a little scary - like Our Gang, if the gang involved were the Crips.
The ifeguards have spent the last 20 minutes trying to get this tiny 4'5" girl to do a gainer off the diving board. She hasn't yet, but I think they're wearing her down.
So chester is a funny place. And it's not just the unsupervised William Golding's "Lord of the Rascals" aspect. Chester is home to Popeye.
This is a town dedicated to Popeye, whose economy revolves entirely around him. All the town banners are emblazoned with a Popeye; he's front and center on the water tower; even the Chamber of Commerce has a big fat Popeye face on it. I wouldn't kid about this. I think there's more representations of Popeye in this town than there were of Stalin in Soviet Russia.
It's great for the people of Chester now. Sure, they're living in the days of wine and roses. But what's gonna happen once ths nation-wide Popeye craze dies down?
Of course, I kid, and I kid because I love. I really like Chester. I got to stick my head into a Wimpy cutout, and eat a hamburger.
Also, the retaurant chain "Popeye's" is not named after Popeye the Sailor Man! It's named after Popeye Doyle from "The French Connection". What a world.
8/1 Motel 6, Carbondale, IL -> 7 hrs, 04116.6
August 2, 3:20 pm, Rockwood, IL (pop. 41)
Pulled off to the side of Route 3 - the first shade I've seen in miles. Sitting there was a mtorcyclist named Tim, trying to pack his bags more efficiently. Nice guy, this Tim. Imagine the actor Chris Cooper with a well-trimmed Fu Manchu.
Boy does he ever have a sweet ride, a nice sleek BMW cycle. He said he bought it four months back, and hasn't gotten on his Harley once since. I told him about our trip, how everybody's been generous and welcoming to us, and he got a real kick out of it.
Back in '78, after he got out of high school, he drove his motorcycle from his hometown in Missouri out to Texas. He referred to this time, sarcastically, as "the good ol' days," back when you got the evil eye if you rode a motorcycle and/or had longish hair.
This one time, he wasn't even on a bike - he had bought an old beater of a station wagon, and was driving across the Panhandle with some friends, "smoking dope and seeing the country".
But then a cop car came up behind him and popped on the cherry lights. Tim pulled over, and the cop sauntered up to the window, hefting up his belt, and called to his partner, "Looks like we got some hippies here!"
The officer made him get out of the car, and gestured to a yield sign behind them. "I don't know how you hippies do it in Missouri, but here in Texas we stop at stop signs." "Yessir," Tim replies, "but that's a yield sign."
"I said, that's a stop sign!" the officer shot back, putting his hand on his holster.
Present-tense Tim says to me, "Now, I was stoned, but I wasn't stupid. I said, 'I do believe you're right. How much do I owe you?"
Forty-five dollars, cash.
The end.
Boy does he ever have a sweet ride, a nice sleek BMW cycle. He said he bought it four months back, and hasn't gotten on his Harley once since. I told him about our trip, how everybody's been generous and welcoming to us, and he got a real kick out of it.
Back in '78, after he got out of high school, he drove his motorcycle from his hometown in Missouri out to Texas. He referred to this time, sarcastically, as "the good ol' days," back when you got the evil eye if you rode a motorcycle and/or had longish hair.
This one time, he wasn't even on a bike - he had bought an old beater of a station wagon, and was driving across the Panhandle with some friends, "smoking dope and seeing the country".
But then a cop car came up behind him and popped on the cherry lights. Tim pulled over, and the cop sauntered up to the window, hefting up his belt, and called to his partner, "Looks like we got some hippies here!"
The officer made him get out of the car, and gestured to a yield sign behind them. "I don't know how you hippies do it in Missouri, but here in Texas we stop at stop signs." "Yessir," Tim replies, "but that's a yield sign."
"I said, that's a stop sign!" the officer shot back, putting his hand on his holster.
Present-tense Tim says to me, "Now, I was stoned, but I wasn't stupid. I said, 'I do believe you're right. How much do I owe you?"
Forty-five dollars, cash.
The end.
August 2, 12:38 am, still in Carbondale
Scooty is still with us. No sign of the meth skags.
Maybe it's the fact that it's past midnight and still 82 degrees, but I think I have figured out how to get rich.
You know Gnarls Barkley? They figured it out, too. Get a stupid name that's a mash-up of an already familiar name. Make a pop song. Get paid millions.
The problem is, I don't know which name to pick. I have three, and they all seem like winners. In no particular order, they are:
1) Hairy Chronic, Jr.
2) Johann Sebastian Bacharach
3) Gringo Starr
i'm thinking of going with #3, only because 1 and 2 are still up in the air (what's funnier - Hairy Chronic Doober or Hairy Chronic Jr. - Johann Sebastian Bacharach or Johann Sebastian Rock? see what I mean?)
Now all I need is an A&R guy. And a producer.
Also, does anyone out there play instruments, or write songs? I could use your help.
Holy Hubba bubba, it sure is hot.
Maybe it's the fact that it's past midnight and still 82 degrees, but I think I have figured out how to get rich.
You know Gnarls Barkley? They figured it out, too. Get a stupid name that's a mash-up of an already familiar name. Make a pop song. Get paid millions.
The problem is, I don't know which name to pick. I have three, and they all seem like winners. In no particular order, they are:
1) Hairy Chronic, Jr.
2) Johann Sebastian Bacharach
3) Gringo Starr
i'm thinking of going with #3, only because 1 and 2 are still up in the air (what's funnier - Hairy Chronic Doober or Hairy Chronic Jr. - Johann Sebastian Bacharach or Johann Sebastian Rock? see what I mean?)
Now all I need is an A&R guy. And a producer.
Also, does anyone out there play instruments, or write songs? I could use your help.
Holy Hubba bubba, it sure is hot.
August 1, 11:21 pm, Carbondale, IL
Too hot. We stay in the motel for another day.
I forgot to say "Rabbit rabbit" first thing this morning. Actually, I didn't forget to say it so much as I remembered to say it but failed to do so. In fact, I remembered to say it in some dreams last night/this morning. But then my phone went off this morning, when Ddogg and I were both still asleep. I went over and turned it off, and Ddogg said, "What time is it?"
I said, "8:14," as Ddogg went, "Don't answer that question!" as I realized that I only dreamed saying "Rabbit rabbit", and hadn't yet said it in the real world.
Then I threw myself across my giant motel bed and went back to sleep, thoroughly demoralized. But we are setting off again tomorrow morning, and tomorrow is another day!
How's the luck been so far? Not too bad. I locked myself out of the motel room today when Ddogg took Scooty to the shop, but only for about an hour. That's pretty good.
Also, when these two ladies drove by in a convertible and I waved to them, and they circled the Motel 6 parking lot as fast as they could, and I went over to talk to them, and realized to my horror once I got close enough that these were not hot chicks cruising around for cute guys, but were in fact ladies who were my age but appeared to be much older because of the ravaging effects of methamphetamine addiction and they wanted gas money - when this happened, they talked me out of three bucks.
But! They didn't take all my money, or shank me with a homemade knife, or come back later to steal scooty or rip all of his saleable copper out.
And instead of choking on a cherry pit, I only accidentally swallowed it. And the severe heat warning is supposed to lift this morning at 4:00 am. My hope is that the temperature will drop 20 or so degrees in the two hours before the sun reappears.
So things are looking up for yours truly.
And that's pretty good.
7/31 Motel 6, Carbondale, IL, don't know and don't care because I am too hot to care
I forgot to say "Rabbit rabbit" first thing this morning. Actually, I didn't forget to say it so much as I remembered to say it but failed to do so. In fact, I remembered to say it in some dreams last night/this morning. But then my phone went off this morning, when Ddogg and I were both still asleep. I went over and turned it off, and Ddogg said, "What time is it?"
I said, "8:14," as Ddogg went, "Don't answer that question!" as I realized that I only dreamed saying "Rabbit rabbit", and hadn't yet said it in the real world.
Then I threw myself across my giant motel bed and went back to sleep, thoroughly demoralized. But we are setting off again tomorrow morning, and tomorrow is another day!
How's the luck been so far? Not too bad. I locked myself out of the motel room today when Ddogg took Scooty to the shop, but only for about an hour. That's pretty good.
Also, when these two ladies drove by in a convertible and I waved to them, and they circled the Motel 6 parking lot as fast as they could, and I went over to talk to them, and realized to my horror once I got close enough that these were not hot chicks cruising around for cute guys, but were in fact ladies who were my age but appeared to be much older because of the ravaging effects of methamphetamine addiction and they wanted gas money - when this happened, they talked me out of three bucks.
But! They didn't take all my money, or shank me with a homemade knife, or come back later to steal scooty or rip all of his saleable copper out.
And instead of choking on a cherry pit, I only accidentally swallowed it. And the severe heat warning is supposed to lift this morning at 4:00 am. My hope is that the temperature will drop 20 or so degrees in the two hours before the sun reappears.
So things are looking up for yours truly.
And that's pretty good.
7/31 Motel 6, Carbondale, IL, don't know and don't care because I am too hot to care
09 August 2006
July 31, around 2:00 pm, Carbondale, IL
"Dogs bite, but balloons and slippers are more dangerous." Wise words indeed. I got that from the Carbondale Public Library.
Even wiser words: "Never go to the public library in Carbondale."
They charge $5.00 for internet access. Five dollars! For an hour! That's absurd!
This library ain't hurting for money, either. There are at least five banks of computers. From where I'm sitting, I can see 9 clocks. And there are Ansel Adams prints that one can check out with one's library card.
Hell, I can live off of five dollars for at least two days!
Perhaps I'm being a bit unfair. I haven't given you the whole story. Internet access is five dollars if you don't have a library card. To quote the (quite snarky) Carbondale Public Library Internet Policy, one has "the option of purchasing a Carbondale Public Library Card." Yup, you read right.
In Carbondale you have to pay for a library card.
What if one has a card from a nearby library? Quoth the CPLIP, "Individuals who are registered cardholders at other public libraries will be directed to their home library if they choose not to pay the fee... The Carbondale Public Library staff can direct individuals who do not want to purchase a Carbondale Public Library Card or pay the fee to local commercial establishments which offer internet access."
Mee-yow.
You see why I don't like this library. Also, they had a quote-unquote Pirate Magician performing for the kids. The kids were all dressed as pirates, and having a good time. Most of his act consisted of bad-mouthing pirates, reminding kids that they were "bad people" and "the real bad guys". Why would you do that?
7/30 Motel 6, Carbondale, IL -> 9 hrs 04018.2
Even wiser words: "Never go to the public library in Carbondale."
They charge $5.00 for internet access. Five dollars! For an hour! That's absurd!
This library ain't hurting for money, either. There are at least five banks of computers. From where I'm sitting, I can see 9 clocks. And there are Ansel Adams prints that one can check out with one's library card.
Hell, I can live off of five dollars for at least two days!
Perhaps I'm being a bit unfair. I haven't given you the whole story. Internet access is five dollars if you don't have a library card. To quote the (quite snarky) Carbondale Public Library Internet Policy, one has "the option of purchasing a Carbondale Public Library Card." Yup, you read right.
In Carbondale you have to pay for a library card.
What if one has a card from a nearby library? Quoth the CPLIP, "Individuals who are registered cardholders at other public libraries will be directed to their home library if they choose not to pay the fee... The Carbondale Public Library staff can direct individuals who do not want to purchase a Carbondale Public Library Card or pay the fee to local commercial establishments which offer internet access."
Mee-yow.
You see why I don't like this library. Also, they had a quote-unquote Pirate Magician performing for the kids. The kids were all dressed as pirates, and having a good time. Most of his act consisted of bad-mouthing pirates, reminding kids that they were "bad people" and "the real bad guys". Why would you do that?
7/30 Motel 6, Carbondale, IL -> 9 hrs 04018.2
July 30, 3:26 pm, Goreville, IL
Another 1000 miles! 04011.1! Carbondale, here we come.
7/29 Bear Branch Horse Resort, Eddyville, IL; 10 hrs, 03954.4
7/29 Bear Branch Horse Resort, Eddyville, IL; 10 hrs, 03954.4
08 August 2006
July 30, 12:32 pm, Saline County, IL
So who wants to bet if I'm lost or not?
Five bucks?
Ha. I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am, which is 14 miles away from where I made my wrong turn (first turn of the morning). All I have to do is go back on 145 South, and hope that along the way I don't get properly lost.
Awful awful sleep last night. I went to bed at ten, but didn't fall asleep until about midnight because an entire family of no-see-ums was in the tent with me.
I finally fell asleep. Next thing I remember, I wake up from a horrible nightmare which just wouldn't stop. I check my cell phone, and it's 5 am, and I wonder if it's worth going back to sleep, and the nightmare starts up again!
And then I wake up for real - for real for real - I check my cell phone and it's only 12:11.
Sometimes I really hate my brain.
Five bucks?
Ha. I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am, which is 14 miles away from where I made my wrong turn (first turn of the morning). All I have to do is go back on 145 South, and hope that along the way I don't get properly lost.
Awful awful sleep last night. I went to bed at ten, but didn't fall asleep until about midnight because an entire family of no-see-ums was in the tent with me.
I finally fell asleep. Next thing I remember, I wake up from a horrible nightmare which just wouldn't stop. I check my cell phone, and it's 5 am, and I wonder if it's worth going back to sleep, and the nightmare starts up again!
And then I wake up for real - for real for real - I check my cell phone and it's only 12:11.
Sometimes I really hate my brain.
July 29, 1:25 pm, Elizabethtown, IL
Woah. So the guy who drove past me, and filmed me? Well, after I finished plogging, I put my book away, started up the motorcycle, and started driving. He must've turned around further down the road, and started coming in my direction. So then he was behind me, and I pulled over and let him pass. Phew.
So but, then...
He comes up in the opposing lane, and pulls over across the street from me! What in tarnation?!
I don't want to be suspicious, but he's been filming me (gulp.), and has been following me (double gulp.), and he's in a van (Big Gulp!)
Okay, okay, chill out, I tell myself. This isn't what it looks like. Even though it is starting to remind me of when John Wayne Gacy dressed up like a clown and killed people in this state.
But seriously dude, chill out. This is a well-trafficked road, and he's got a lady in the passenger seat (I assume his wife, but perhaps she's a prisoner! OMG!! It puts on the lotion or it gets the hose!) He leans out the window, and as if to explain his filming-following, says, "I saw you back there, and I thought, 'Boy, this guy must have a story to tell.'"
And he's correct. It's a short story. It goes like this: "Once upon a time, there was this guy, and he was freaked out. Freaked out of his mind. The end."
Anyways, it turns out that the guy is a pastor from Carbondale, and has what appears to be a complete lack of social skills. And he does not kidnap or skin people, so far as I could tell.
He's a pastor. And there's nothing scary about that. Or clowns. Right? Right.
7/28 Cave in Rock State Park, Cave in Rock, IL -> 6.5 hrs, 03891.7
So but, then...
He comes up in the opposing lane, and pulls over across the street from me! What in tarnation?!
I don't want to be suspicious, but he's been filming me (gulp.), and has been following me (double gulp.), and he's in a van (Big Gulp!)
Okay, okay, chill out, I tell myself. This isn't what it looks like. Even though it is starting to remind me of when John Wayne Gacy dressed up like a clown and killed people in this state.
But seriously dude, chill out. This is a well-trafficked road, and he's got a lady in the passenger seat (I assume his wife, but perhaps she's a prisoner! OMG!! It puts on the lotion or it gets the hose!) He leans out the window, and as if to explain his filming-following, says, "I saw you back there, and I thought, 'Boy, this guy must have a story to tell.'"
And he's correct. It's a short story. It goes like this: "Once upon a time, there was this guy, and he was freaked out. Freaked out of his mind. The end."
Anyways, it turns out that the guy is a pastor from Carbondale, and has what appears to be a complete lack of social skills. And he does not kidnap or skin people, so far as I could tell.
He's a pastor. And there's nothing scary about that. Or clowns. Right? Right.
7/28 Cave in Rock State Park, Cave in Rock, IL -> 6.5 hrs, 03891.7
July 29, 1:12 pm, Elizabethtown, IL
Stopped in to town, to see if anybody sent any general deliveries. Nada.
So we thought we should do some laundry. We found the laundromat, which had (count 'em) one working washer, two working dryers, and three vending machines (filled with detergent) which did not work at all.
And in the time it took us to discover this, we got swaaddled over by a blanket of oppressive humidity. Oh gosh it's hot.
Some guy just drove past me in a van, filming me as he drove. Wow.
Anyway, I feel too heat-indexed to move, for a while. I met a biker named Ted. Good guy, coming from California, been on the road for two months. That's about it. He also agreed that it's very hot today.
I think I may be melting. This is not a normal amount of sweat. Guhggh..
So we thought we should do some laundry. We found the laundromat, which had (count 'em) one working washer, two working dryers, and three vending machines (filled with detergent) which did not work at all.
And in the time it took us to discover this, we got swaaddled over by a blanket of oppressive humidity. Oh gosh it's hot.
Some guy just drove past me in a van, filming me as he drove. Wow.
Anyway, I feel too heat-indexed to move, for a while. I met a biker named Ted. Good guy, coming from California, been on the road for two months. That's about it. He also agreed that it's very hot today.
I think I may be melting. This is not a normal amount of sweat. Guhggh..
July 28, 9:27 pm, Cave in Rock, IL
It rained all day today. Except the times when I stopped the scooter. Then it would stop raining, long enough for me to decide to start riding again. Then, it would start raining again. My plog is soggy.
Got into Clay, KY, long enough to realize that there is nothing in Clay, KY.
Finally, I pulled into Marion, KY and found a place that could sell me coffee and cigarettes. (I can't believe I didn't plog this - we ran into two cute eastbound biker ladies at the soda fountain in Sebree. These were the first women my-age-ish I've talked to in days (if not weeks), and they did not seem repelled by my road stink. So I think my confidence went up.)
What was I saying... oh yeah, so I go to get some coffee, and chatted it up with a very cute deli attendant. She offered to make me fresh coffee (which offer I declined), so I let her sweet-talk me into buying some goulash.
Now, I had been driving for hours in the rain, and now had to have been standing like directly under an air conditioning vent. I was shivering, and I kept shivering. The cute deli attendant called me, "You poor thing!"
Ladies, correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't call someone you are attracted to "you poor thing", right? You shoot flirty eyes at them, or make out with them, or comp them goulash, or something. But you say "you poor thing" to a dog you found on the street. Am I right?
Anyway, I didn't realize any of this until after I got the goulash. And then my confidence plummetted. Somehow, on the way to Utica, Ddogg manages to get himself invited into a pool with three bikini-clad ladies. Me? I meet Princess, the two-legged dog.
Dammit.
The goulash was very good, though.
7/27 First Baptist Church, Sebree, KY -> 11 hrs, 03837.2
Got into Clay, KY, long enough to realize that there is nothing in Clay, KY.
Finally, I pulled into Marion, KY and found a place that could sell me coffee and cigarettes. (I can't believe I didn't plog this - we ran into two cute eastbound biker ladies at the soda fountain in Sebree. These were the first women my-age-ish I've talked to in days (if not weeks), and they did not seem repelled by my road stink. So I think my confidence went up.)
What was I saying... oh yeah, so I go to get some coffee, and chatted it up with a very cute deli attendant. She offered to make me fresh coffee (which offer I declined), so I let her sweet-talk me into buying some goulash.
Now, I had been driving for hours in the rain, and now had to have been standing like directly under an air conditioning vent. I was shivering, and I kept shivering. The cute deli attendant called me, "You poor thing!"
Ladies, correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't call someone you are attracted to "you poor thing", right? You shoot flirty eyes at them, or make out with them, or comp them goulash, or something. But you say "you poor thing" to a dog you found on the street. Am I right?
Anyway, I didn't realize any of this until after I got the goulash. And then my confidence plummetted. Somehow, on the way to Utica, Ddogg manages to get himself invited into a pool with three bikini-clad ladies. Me? I meet Princess, the two-legged dog.
Dammit.
The goulash was very good, though.
7/27 First Baptist Church, Sebree, KY -> 11 hrs, 03837.2
July 27, 11:41 pm, Sebree, KY
Tonight, we stay in the First Baptist Church. This place is great! We're allowed full use of the basement, and in terms of square footage it's bigger than eitherhouse I grew up in. And it's ours, all ours! So hospitable.
I think I might become a Baptist. Or a volunteer firefighter.
I've been reading through a Bible, and there are some things in here I never expected to read. I mean, the Old Testament does get a little out there, especially with Leviticus. But even the New Testament! Did you know women shouldn't speak in church? A sample, from St. Paul's first letter to the Corinthians:
"Let your women keep silent in the churches, for they are not permitted to speak, but they are to be submissive, as the law also says. And if they want to learn something, let them ask their own husbands at home, for it is shameful for women to speak in church." -1 Cor 14:34-35
Wow.
Then again, I don't know how well to trust this Bible. It says that it's the NKJV text, but then again, it's also called the "Teen Extreme Bible". And it actually corrects God at one point. I know. Check it out.
The note for Leviticus 11:4-5 ("Nevertheless these you shall not eat among those that chew the cud or those that have cloven hooves: the camel, because it chews the cud but does not have cloven hooves, is unclean to you; the rock hyrax, because it chews the cud but does not have cloven hooves, is unclean to you...") says: "Rock hyraxes [also known as the 'coney' in KJV - ed.] look a lot like guinea pigs. They do not chew cud like cows do, but their mouths are moving all the time, giving the impression that they're chewing cud. The rock hyraxes have a suction-like grip that allows them to maneuver on rocks."
Now, I like the extra information about the suction-like grip, but I don't think I can trust a Bible with God-contradicting commentary.
Oooh! Also, I forgot to plog yesterday - I met a two-legged dog named Princess. Both her legs are on the same side of her body, and she can run. It is awe-inspiring. She'd be my role model if she hadn't been hit 4 times by the same truck.
7/26 Utica Volunteer Fire Department, Utica, KY -> 10.5 hrs, 03808.3
I think I might become a Baptist. Or a volunteer firefighter.
I've been reading through a Bible, and there are some things in here I never expected to read. I mean, the Old Testament does get a little out there, especially with Leviticus. But even the New Testament! Did you know women shouldn't speak in church? A sample, from St. Paul's first letter to the Corinthians:
"Let your women keep silent in the churches, for they are not permitted to speak, but they are to be submissive, as the law also says. And if they want to learn something, let them ask their own husbands at home, for it is shameful for women to speak in church." -1 Cor 14:34-35
Wow.
Then again, I don't know how well to trust this Bible. It says that it's the NKJV text, but then again, it's also called the "Teen Extreme Bible". And it actually corrects God at one point. I know. Check it out.
The note for Leviticus 11:4-5 ("Nevertheless these you shall not eat among those that chew the cud or those that have cloven hooves: the camel, because it chews the cud but does not have cloven hooves, is unclean to you; the rock hyrax, because it chews the cud but does not have cloven hooves, is unclean to you...") says: "Rock hyraxes [also known as the 'coney' in KJV - ed.] look a lot like guinea pigs. They do not chew cud like cows do, but their mouths are moving all the time, giving the impression that they're chewing cud. The rock hyraxes have a suction-like grip that allows them to maneuver on rocks."
Now, I like the extra information about the suction-like grip, but I don't think I can trust a Bible with God-contradicting commentary.
Oooh! Also, I forgot to plog yesterday - I met a two-legged dog named Princess. Both her legs are on the same side of her body, and she can run. It is awe-inspiring. She'd be my role model if she hadn't been hit 4 times by the same truck.
7/26 Utica Volunteer Fire Department, Utica, KY -> 10.5 hrs, 03808.3
04 August 2006
July 26, 3:31pm, somewhere outside of Sebree, KY
Oh, okay. Two more strident outside-world items.
1) Remember those tuna-net-like sweeps of suspicious Muslims that we conducted just after 9/11? The secret ones that the Bush Administration denied we were doing? Yeah, you remember them now.
Well, the United States has finally released the last guy we arrested! Hooray! C'mon cheer with me. It's okay, this guy, Benemar Benatta, is not a terrorist. How do we know he's not a terrorist?
Because the government concluded that in NOVEMBER OF 2001!!
2) In other news, a lawsuit brought against AT&T by Studs Terkel (an American treasure, to be sure) has been dismissed. They were suing to block AT&T from illegally disclosing any more customer information to the NSA, and to basically confirm or deny whether AT&T has done so in the past.
The court says that - while everybody knows that AT&T and other phone companies provided such information - if they confirm it or deny it in a court of law, then our enemies might get a better understanding of the government’s intelligence activities.
Some of you may be like, "Well, duh!", but others might not see the logic here. For the latter, here it is. The Executive branch usually relies on one of two arguments when they don’t want to reveal something. The first is the Mosaic theory, which says that confirmation or denial of a whole bunch of unclassified material can help people deduce classified material. The second is the State Secrets Privilege, which allows the government to dismiss otherwise sound legal cases when it believes that those cases could harm national security.
(It seems that the Bush Administration is relying on the SSP, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the MT made its way into their arguments somewhere along the line.)
You see, if we revealed what information the Federal Government illegally seized from her citizens in violation of the Fourth Amendment and the FISA statutes, then our enemies might, just might, figure out how to evade eavesdropping.
If AT&T admits that they (in violation of the aforementioned Federal law, passed by the duly elected representatives of the American people) disclosed the private and privileged data of their customers to the NSA or other Executive organizations, THEY WOULD BE PLAYING RIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF THE TERRORISTS (they’d also be following the established laws of American jurisprudence, but that’s really apples and oranges. Focus, people!)
What’s funny (but not “Ha ha!” funny) is that there is not a single thing that the government can do that doesn’t fall under either the Mosaic theory or the State Secrets Privilege. And that’s bad, very bad.
One of the most remarkable features of our Founding Fathers is that they chose to limit the power they were giving to the government – and since a lot of them were going to become part of the government, how they chose to limit their own power. They understood that all leaders, even those ruling through the consent of governed, will naturally try to amass more power.
Simply put, if you give people power, they will want more power. If you give somebody a hammer, everything looks like nails, and he’ll want a bigger, better hammer. Once he gets it, he sees how there are some things that even his bigger, better hammer can’t nail. So he needs More Power. A bigger hammer. Let’s call this the Tim Allen Theory of Government. The TATG is how despotism begins.
Their solution, to constrain the powers of the Government via the Bill of Rights, is really the only thing that has prevented this country from becoming completely Fascist. We need the Bill of Rights, and its limits on government power, to prevent us from getting totally hammered (or screwed, as the case may be).
The freedoms we cherish? We don’t have them because of any inborn characteristic of the American people. I wish we did, but we don’t. We have them because the Founding Fathers gave us a tool to constrain the government. We have our rights because we can hold the government accountable.
What else do we have?
We have a White House that decided it could snoop on us whenever it sees fit.
We have a white House that used illegally gotten material to order police investigations into tens of thousands of innocent civilians.
We have a White House that had the CIA kidnap, drug, and beat a guy, then fly him to a secret prison in Afghanistan and hold him there for months (even though they knew that he was innocent), and then, when they decided they were done with him, drop him off in Albania. Without ever filing a single criminal charge against the guy.
And all of this is okay, and unchallengeable in the courts, because this same White House says so.
The Founding Fathers had a name for this kind of thing – Tyranny.
Remember to vote.
7/26 Utica Volunteer Fire Department, Utica, KY ->10.5 hrs, 03808.3
1) Remember those tuna-net-like sweeps of suspicious Muslims that we conducted just after 9/11? The secret ones that the Bush Administration denied we were doing? Yeah, you remember them now.
Well, the United States has finally released the last guy we arrested! Hooray! C'mon cheer with me. It's okay, this guy, Benemar Benatta, is not a terrorist. How do we know he's not a terrorist?
Because the government concluded that in NOVEMBER OF 2001!!
2) In other news, a lawsuit brought against AT&T by Studs Terkel (an American treasure, to be sure) has been dismissed. They were suing to block AT&T from illegally disclosing any more customer information to the NSA, and to basically confirm or deny whether AT&T has done so in the past.
The court says that - while everybody knows that AT&T and other phone companies provided such information - if they confirm it or deny it in a court of law, then our enemies might get a better understanding of the government’s intelligence activities.
Some of you may be like, "Well, duh!", but others might not see the logic here. For the latter, here it is. The Executive branch usually relies on one of two arguments when they don’t want to reveal something. The first is the Mosaic theory, which says that confirmation or denial of a whole bunch of unclassified material can help people deduce classified material. The second is the State Secrets Privilege, which allows the government to dismiss otherwise sound legal cases when it believes that those cases could harm national security.
(It seems that the Bush Administration is relying on the SSP, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the MT made its way into their arguments somewhere along the line.)
You see, if we revealed what information the Federal Government illegally seized from her citizens in violation of the Fourth Amendment and the FISA statutes, then our enemies might, just might, figure out how to evade eavesdropping.
If AT&T admits that they (in violation of the aforementioned Federal law, passed by the duly elected representatives of the American people) disclosed the private and privileged data of their customers to the NSA or other Executive organizations, THEY WOULD BE PLAYING RIGHT INTO THE HANDS OF THE TERRORISTS (they’d also be following the established laws of American jurisprudence, but that’s really apples and oranges. Focus, people!)
What’s funny (but not “Ha ha!” funny) is that there is not a single thing that the government can do that doesn’t fall under either the Mosaic theory or the State Secrets Privilege. And that’s bad, very bad.
One of the most remarkable features of our Founding Fathers is that they chose to limit the power they were giving to the government – and since a lot of them were going to become part of the government, how they chose to limit their own power. They understood that all leaders, even those ruling through the consent of governed, will naturally try to amass more power.
Simply put, if you give people power, they will want more power. If you give somebody a hammer, everything looks like nails, and he’ll want a bigger, better hammer. Once he gets it, he sees how there are some things that even his bigger, better hammer can’t nail. So he needs More Power. A bigger hammer. Let’s call this the Tim Allen Theory of Government. The TATG is how despotism begins.
Their solution, to constrain the powers of the Government via the Bill of Rights, is really the only thing that has prevented this country from becoming completely Fascist. We need the Bill of Rights, and its limits on government power, to prevent us from getting totally hammered (or screwed, as the case may be).
The freedoms we cherish? We don’t have them because of any inborn characteristic of the American people. I wish we did, but we don’t. We have them because the Founding Fathers gave us a tool to constrain the government. We have our rights because we can hold the government accountable.
What else do we have?
We have a White House that decided it could snoop on us whenever it sees fit.
We have a white House that used illegally gotten material to order police investigations into tens of thousands of innocent civilians.
We have a White House that had the CIA kidnap, drug, and beat a guy, then fly him to a secret prison in Afghanistan and hold him there for months (even though they knew that he was innocent), and then, when they decided they were done with him, drop him off in Albania. Without ever filing a single criminal charge against the guy.
And all of this is okay, and unchallengeable in the courts, because this same White House says so.
The Founding Fathers had a name for this kind of thing – Tyranny.
Remember to vote.
7/26 Utica Volunteer Fire Department, Utica, KY ->10.5 hrs, 03808.3
03 August 2006
July 25, 8:30 pm, then 7:30 pm, then 8:31 pm, Hudson, KY
I'm near the Central/Eastern time zone, and my cell phone is acting up. If I stand on one side of this truck it's 7:30 and I have no cell phone reception. On the other side, it's an hour later and I have three bars. Crazy.
Look - I have been trying to keep this plog/blog focused on the trip and not talk about wider concerns. But WTF? I'm pretty disgusted, and I can't hold my hand any longer.
Every president of the United States swears a solemn oath to uphold the Constitution and to protect the American people. Furthermore, the president's policies, and the actions of his Administration, are supposed to be in the best interests of the American people.
Yet this President and his appointees have made it clear time and again that they are serving first the GOP. Now some of you all might say that the interests of the GOP may very well coincide with those of our nation. I can't prove otherwise, and I don't care - because that's beside the point.
You serve the country first, and hope it benefits your party. Not the other way around.
7/24 M.O.K.H.S.P., Bardstown, KY -> 9 hrs drunk sleep, 03576.2
Look - I have been trying to keep this plog/blog focused on the trip and not talk about wider concerns. But WTF? I'm pretty disgusted, and I can't hold my hand any longer.
Every president of the United States swears a solemn oath to uphold the Constitution and to protect the American people. Furthermore, the president's policies, and the actions of his Administration, are supposed to be in the best interests of the American people.
Yet this President and his appointees have made it clear time and again that they are serving first the GOP. Now some of you all might say that the interests of the GOP may very well coincide with those of our nation. I can't prove otherwise, and I don't care - because that's beside the point.
You serve the country first, and hope it benefits your party. Not the other way around.
7/24 M.O.K.H.S.P., Bardstown, KY -> 9 hrs drunk sleep, 03576.2
July 25, 1:15 am, Bardstown, KY
What a great party!
Ddogg and I had a huge dinner of garlicked pasta with tomato sauce and a pound of ricotta cheese and drank Smirnoff Ice, and I surpised him with bourbon (although I don't think he was surprised. My cover story when I went and bought it? "Uh, I think I lost my shampoo. You need anything from Wal-Mart?")
Understandably, Ddogg took a nap (as it were). While he was out, this guy Bob at the next campsite invited us over for crawdads. He had five pounds of crawdads. I told him that I was superfull, having had a birthday extravaganza dinner, but thanks for the offer.
We talked about travel, and camping, and crawdads. He was an awesome guy. The following anecdote may make him sound creepy, but he wasn't creepy- he's funny and nice. This one time, having realized that he often used the phrase "Like a chicken without a head" but had never actually seen a chicken without a head, he bought a live chicken and beheaded it. His girlfriend was not amused.
Anyway, he said that in a few hours, he was gonna have some folks from work over, and was going to cook up the crawdads, and that we should come on over.
I said, "Yeah, sure. Thanks!", but I wasn't really all that sure. All that night, I was feeling sick. Not sick flu sick, but sick 8 oz ricotta cheese + Smirnoff Ice + Bourbon + half a chocolate cake sick.
I knew if I went to sleep, I wouldn't wake up. So I took a long, a looooooong shower, and felt somewhat better.
Bob had set up a party for Ddogg! His friends Pat and Marty (husband and wife, respectively) and their son Zach (Zack?) (forgot to ask) were there, and firebaked tomatoes and summer squash, and five pounds of crawdads, and a cake! They even all signed a happy birthday card for Ddogg.
This was without a doubt the best night on the road. Kentucky, I apologize. I wil not hide any poop in your state.
Ddogg and I had a huge dinner of garlicked pasta with tomato sauce and a pound of ricotta cheese and drank Smirnoff Ice, and I surpised him with bourbon (although I don't think he was surprised. My cover story when I went and bought it? "Uh, I think I lost my shampoo. You need anything from Wal-Mart?")
Understandably, Ddogg took a nap (as it were). While he was out, this guy Bob at the next campsite invited us over for crawdads. He had five pounds of crawdads. I told him that I was superfull, having had a birthday extravaganza dinner, but thanks for the offer.
We talked about travel, and camping, and crawdads. He was an awesome guy. The following anecdote may make him sound creepy, but he wasn't creepy- he's funny and nice. This one time, having realized that he often used the phrase "Like a chicken without a head" but had never actually seen a chicken without a head, he bought a live chicken and beheaded it. His girlfriend was not amused.
Anyway, he said that in a few hours, he was gonna have some folks from work over, and was going to cook up the crawdads, and that we should come on over.
I said, "Yeah, sure. Thanks!", but I wasn't really all that sure. All that night, I was feeling sick. Not sick flu sick, but sick 8 oz ricotta cheese + Smirnoff Ice + Bourbon + half a chocolate cake sick.
I knew if I went to sleep, I wouldn't wake up. So I took a long, a looooooong shower, and felt somewhat better.
Bob had set up a party for Ddogg! His friends Pat and Marty (husband and wife, respectively) and their son Zach (Zack?) (forgot to ask) were there, and firebaked tomatoes and summer squash, and five pounds of crawdads, and a cake! They even all signed a happy birthday card for Ddogg.
This was without a doubt the best night on the road. Kentucky, I apologize. I wil not hide any poop in your state.
02 August 2006
July 24, 12:31 pm, Bardstown, KY
It's Ddogg's birthday! Huzzah!
We're sitting in a club called Jazzy's, which only plays country music (long story).
But it's quite good country music. Not the country-pop-crap. And check out the refrains to two separate songs:
"Where's all the freedom that we're fightin' for?"
and
""God bless the U.S. Army, but it's time to get out of Iraq!"
7/23 My Old Kentucky Home State Park, Bardstown, KY ->8 hrs, 03559.8
We're sitting in a club called Jazzy's, which only plays country music (long story).
But it's quite good country music. Not the country-pop-crap. And check out the refrains to two separate songs:
"Where's all the freedom that we're fightin' for?"
and
""God bless the U.S. Army, but it's time to get out of Iraq!"
7/23 My Old Kentucky Home State Park, Bardstown, KY ->8 hrs, 03559.8
July 24, 10:30 am, Bardstown, KY
Smoking Parliament Full Flavors. I can see why most people smoke the Lights.
Not to besmirch the good name of Benson and Hedges, Inc, but these cigarettes could do with a little less flavor. A lot less, really.
Serves me right for smoking, anyhow.
Dammit.
Not to besmirch the good name of Benson and Hedges, Inc, but these cigarettes could do with a little less flavor. A lot less, really.
Serves me right for smoking, anyhow.
Dammit.
July 23, 9:57 pm, Bardstown, KY
Ddogg brought back cheddar cheese from Wal-Mart! Alright! Ddogg saves the day!
7/22 Pioneer Playhouse, Danville, KY -> 9 hrs fitful, 03497.15
7/22 Pioneer Playhouse, Danville, KY -> 9 hrs fitful, 03497.15
July 23, 9:03 pm, Bardstown, KY
WARNING - Poop related post (surprise!) with a censored but still somewhat readable swear word
1) Oh gosh.
I'm still not right, gastrointestine-wise. If me bowels get any looser, I'll be emitting a fine mist. Ddogg suggests that I eat the other cheese-like thing, to bind me up. That's certainly what happened last time.
This "cheese" is a cheddar-based garlic-flavored thing. I don't know, I really don't. I may be going to far. Eating the garlic-cheddar would be quite the disproportionate response, even as bad as I've been. That stuff is Agent Orange Cheese. It's like the h-bomb for my a-hole.
We'll see.
At least I don't have any bourbon in me. That wouldn't help sloppy colon at all.
Isn't it always something? To paraphrase the late great Erma Bombeck, "If life is a bowl of cherries, why do I always get the sh*ts?"
2) So we pulled into bourbon county today. And I'm like, "Wazoo!" And but it's Sunday, and they don't sell liquor here on Sundays. So now I'm all, "Boo!"
And the worst part of this is, is that I didn't find out about the Blue Laws until after I walked into the Skinner box that is the Bourbon Heritage Center's Gift Shop. In said Gift Shop is this device, wherein you push a button, and fine barrel-aged bourbon smell is shot at your face.
I admit it - I stood in front of the machine and pushed the button. At least three times.
And then I found out that I couldn't actually buy bourbon, only smell it.
You will pay for this, Kentucky! Maybe I will eat that "cheese" after all, and poop someplace where you all won't find it for at least a week.
I will upper-decker your entire state! Yes, yes, this is deviously delicious. I will drop the super-bitter-sorta-cheddar-upper-decker. Mwah-ha-ha-ha-haaa!
Watch it, Kentucky. I just might.
1) Oh gosh.
I'm still not right, gastrointestine-wise. If me bowels get any looser, I'll be emitting a fine mist. Ddogg suggests that I eat the other cheese-like thing, to bind me up. That's certainly what happened last time.
This "cheese" is a cheddar-based garlic-flavored thing. I don't know, I really don't. I may be going to far. Eating the garlic-cheddar would be quite the disproportionate response, even as bad as I've been. That stuff is Agent Orange Cheese. It's like the h-bomb for my a-hole.
We'll see.
At least I don't have any bourbon in me. That wouldn't help sloppy colon at all.
Isn't it always something? To paraphrase the late great Erma Bombeck, "If life is a bowl of cherries, why do I always get the sh*ts?"
2) So we pulled into bourbon county today. And I'm like, "Wazoo!" And but it's Sunday, and they don't sell liquor here on Sundays. So now I'm all, "Boo!"
And the worst part of this is, is that I didn't find out about the Blue Laws until after I walked into the Skinner box that is the Bourbon Heritage Center's Gift Shop. In said Gift Shop is this device, wherein you push a button, and fine barrel-aged bourbon smell is shot at your face.
I admit it - I stood in front of the machine and pushed the button. At least three times.
And then I found out that I couldn't actually buy bourbon, only smell it.
You will pay for this, Kentucky! Maybe I will eat that "cheese" after all, and poop someplace where you all won't find it for at least a week.
I will upper-decker your entire state! Yes, yes, this is deviously delicious. I will drop the super-bitter-sorta-cheddar-upper-decker. Mwah-ha-ha-ha-haaa!
Watch it, Kentucky. I just might.
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