Miles traveled: 400
Hours on Road: 8.5
States covered: 5 – Virginia, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut
Well, we did it. We circled nearly the entire country, and we made it home safely. Forty-six days of living out of a van, and we loved every minute of it. I knew from the beginning that we were meant to be vagabonds or, in my kids’ word, hobos (one who wanders from place to place without a permanent home or a means of livelihood). The minimalist life is not to be underrated.
The ride was uneventful. Since I woke the kids up at 5:00 a.m. to leave, they slept a good deal of the ride, which made it very peaceful for me. They were awake during our drive around Washington DC, where I finalized my decision that Parker will never get his driver’s license. He wouldn’t stop complaining that I was being passed by everyone on the road. I told him I was going the speed limit, to which he commented, to his own detriment, that “You never get anywhere going the speed limit.” Not a wise thing to tell your mom.
He also reinforced his childishness when he insisted on taking a photo of the sign that indicated Manassas, which of course, he’d read as Man asses. He also made me speed up to get photos of two cars: one had an autobot symbol on its back window and one had the license plate “Faja.” The things I do for that boy.
Near the end of our drive we decided we were so anxious to see Faja that we got off the exit in Danbury and headed to his place of work. You need to be buzzed in to the office area, so we stood outside the door and I called him:
Me: Hi, where are you?
Jeff: Why, where are you?
Me: Right outside your office door. If you come open it, we can give you hugs.
Jeff: Uh, I’m home. I got out early to surprise you.
In the back of my mind I had thought he might do that, but I had wanted so badly to surprise him that I put that thought out of my mind.
Even with that stop, we were home by 2:30. We had a relaxing afternoon, with a nice visit from Missy. Then Pam and Tiff came over, followed shortly by Brian and Ham and later by Trisha, Rod, and Liv. It was great to see everyone again. The spontaneous party reminded of why I love to be home.
There is no need to go to the corresponding photo because it is only a picture of the Manassas sign. That boy!!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Day 45 – Richmond, VA
Miles traveled: 460
Hours on Road: 8
States covered: 3 – South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia
We were sad to leave Jen’s. We hate goodbyes. But now we’re officially on our way home. We drove through more rain, surprise, surprise. I think the boys are getting excited about being home because they’re really starting to annoy me with the noise and hyperactivity. I was like the Grinch the whole ride, “Stop all that noise, noise, noise, noise.” I ranted so long at one point, it became comical. This trip has done in any authority I may have once had. The Pilot don’t get no respect. They all fell asleep at one point, and it was like heaven. When Trey woke up, he asked if I had enjoyed the quiet time. He said he wasn’t even tired, but he made himself fall asleep to give me a break.
The teasing amongst us has become merciless. One slip of the tongue and everyone’s all over you. Parker picked on Trey for saying something stupid today, and all Trey could come back with is, “I’m smart, I just don’t use it around you!”
I didn’t realize when I made the reservations at this Best Western just outside of Richmond that it is, literally, right next to King’s Dominion – a huge amusement park. The boys dropped their jaws when we arrived, and they’re chomping at the bit to head on over there. Trey keeps looking out the window because, of course, it overlooks the park. There are several huge roller coasters that look like a blast, but there’s just no time.
I’ve made them catch up on their journals. They haven’t written in them since Crater of Diamonds. It’s worse than pulling teeth getting them to sit still. I supposed I shouldn’t blame them; we were in the van for, as Cal put it, “longer than a school day.”
We’ll be home tomorrow. Day 46, and we’ll finally be home. I’ve had a better time than I even imagined, and if the trip were longer, I’d be gung-ho to continue. But knowing that tomorrow is our last day, I’m very much looking forward to being home. I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading about our travels: the ups, the downs, the craziness. We’ve sure had fun!
For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2027335027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Hours on Road: 8
States covered: 3 – South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia
We were sad to leave Jen’s. We hate goodbyes. But now we’re officially on our way home. We drove through more rain, surprise, surprise. I think the boys are getting excited about being home because they’re really starting to annoy me with the noise and hyperactivity. I was like the Grinch the whole ride, “Stop all that noise, noise, noise, noise.” I ranted so long at one point, it became comical. This trip has done in any authority I may have once had. The Pilot don’t get no respect. They all fell asleep at one point, and it was like heaven. When Trey woke up, he asked if I had enjoyed the quiet time. He said he wasn’t even tired, but he made himself fall asleep to give me a break.
The teasing amongst us has become merciless. One slip of the tongue and everyone’s all over you. Parker picked on Trey for saying something stupid today, and all Trey could come back with is, “I’m smart, I just don’t use it around you!”
I didn’t realize when I made the reservations at this Best Western just outside of Richmond that it is, literally, right next to King’s Dominion – a huge amusement park. The boys dropped their jaws when we arrived, and they’re chomping at the bit to head on over there. Trey keeps looking out the window because, of course, it overlooks the park. There are several huge roller coasters that look like a blast, but there’s just no time.
I’ve made them catch up on their journals. They haven’t written in them since Crater of Diamonds. It’s worse than pulling teeth getting them to sit still. I supposed I shouldn’t blame them; we were in the van for, as Cal put it, “longer than a school day.”
We’ll be home tomorrow. Day 46, and we’ll finally be home. I’ve had a better time than I even imagined, and if the trip were longer, I’d be gung-ho to continue. But knowing that tomorrow is our last day, I’m very much looking forward to being home. I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading about our travels: the ups, the downs, the craziness. We’ve sure had fun!
For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2027335027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Day 44 – Mount Pleasant, SC, Day 2
Miles traveled: Jen drove
Hours on Road: Mostly in and out of the car
States covered: 1 – South Carolina
Jen made us breakfast tacos and we had a relaxing morning. Trey was relentless about going to the pool, so we finally went. Jen had told us about the great slide they have there; it’s really long, like one you’d find at a water park, and you go down it on a raft. She had given us the option of driving or walking to the pool and, because she had said the walk was doable, I decided we should walk. Partway there, Trey, who had become very comfortable with Jen very quickly, started making wiseass comments about the “doable” walk. It was a very hot day and he was rapidly losing interest in walking, so he was giving her a hard time in the way only Trey (or Grampa Huey) could do.
Sadly, when we got there, the slide was closed. The boys had fun playing around in the water, anyway. It was so hot and humid, when I took my camera out the lens fogged up. I cleaned it off, but the photos I took that morning were all a bit hazy. It was hilarious to watch Jen and the boys create swimming challenges for each other and then compete to see who could do them the best.
After the pool, Jen drove us around to sight see; we were all too hot to do much more walking. We nearly melted on the walk home from the pool. The first place was visited was Isle of Palms. I’d been there as a kid a couple of times. Chris and John lived in South Carolina for a while, and when I was young, we generally vacationed wherever it was they lived. The evening I remember most vividly was when I was about 11, which would make Trisha 13, John 4, and Matt 2. Trisha and I were left to babysit the youngins while the older folks went out for dinner. Immediately after the door shut behind Chrissy, Matt started wailing this cry that I was certain they heard in the parking lot – but chose to ignore. The kid was relentless. After a full hour of what should have tired out any normal child, he was still going strong. That’s when I discovered that if I sang one particular song he’d stop his shrieking. It wasn’t even crying; it was more excruciating than that. So, for the next three hours, Trisha and I took turns singing, “Oh, there was a little chickie and he wouldn’t lay an egg, so they rubbed hot water up and down his leg. And the little chickie hollered and the little chickie begged, and the little chickie laid a hardboiled egg. Bum, bum, de, dum, dum. Dum, dum.” The poor chickie, he couldn’t lay an egg cause he was a boy!! But this kept Matt quiet. Even with all that crying, he still turned out to be one of my favorite people!!
After reliving that nightmare, I told the boys I’d get them something to eat. Jen suggested hot dogs at Jack’s Cosmic Hot Dog. What a great suggestion. It was an eclectic place that, if it were anything other than quaint, it might be considered dirty. The chandelier over our heads was made of tea cups with teaspoons hanging off them, there was an old-fashioned child’s pay-a-quarter-for-a-ride red car out front, an antique soda machine, and several torpedoes around the property. I loved the place! The food was great, too, though the Littles got only plain hotdogs.
We then went to see the battery in Charleston. Jen knew so much about the area it was like having our own personal tour guide. I got a photo of the kids at the cannons, and I told them to frown just like I had in a photo that was taken of me and John in that same spot (probably right after the crying incident, so that would explain the frown on my face). He and I were wearing matching shirts and for some reason I looked completely pissed off.
We toured the campus of Jen’s alma mater and saw a couple of the places where she’d lived. What a great place to go to school, right in the heart of Charleston, SC. After that we parked and walked though the open air shops, which are wonderful now but were once the site of slave selling back when that shameful institution existed in America. I bought a beautiful grass basket that had been weaved by the older gentleman selling it. The people who make these baskets collect the grass themselves and must pass along the tradition generationally. I could afford only a small one because they’re very expensive, rightfully so. It’s like with the pottery out west; those who are talented make exceptionally artful pieces. The boys have all run out of money, but to keep them interested in shopping I gave them each $20 to spend. That’s the only souvenir money I’ve given them on this trip. Parker and Cal both bought wooden cutouts that the maker had painted. He fashioned them after college basketball teams, so Parker bought the Army one and Cal got a Cincinnati one, only because it was a big C. Trey bought himself a fedora, which he’s wanted since second grade when his class performed the “Singing in the Rain” portion of the second-grade play. He looks rather dapper in it. Since the hat cost only $10, he also bought a photograph of trees and flowers framing a tiny cabin. He felt that the trees looked like the whomping willows from Harry Potter. As we were leaving, Parker spied a drawing of Biggie Smalls that he really wanted. He said he didn’t even like Rap, but Biggie Smalls was totally cool. I told him if it was less than $10 I’d get it for him. It was just a print of the original drawing, so it was only $10. Shoot, I’d thought for sure it would be more. So we’re now the proud owners of a Biggie Smalls print.
Jen, like Tim, thought it was important that we had a bumper sticker from her area, so that’s what we got next. It doesn’t say South Carolina, but it’s the palmetto tree, so anyone who knows their states will know what state it belongs to.
Jen also felt it was very important that we experience the Piggly Wiggly grocery store, and she insisted on buying the boys T-shirts from said store. They love their new shirts. We also picked up a movie at the store: “The Bounty Hunter.”
We got Chick Fil-A again, only this time, we ate it at home, by candlelight, with Biggie Smalls. We all had wine glasses, except Biggie, and placemats, and we dined by candlelight, with Biggie in the center of the table. It was exquisite.
While we watched Bounty Hunter, Cal had an allergic reaction; we don’t know to what. He had a cat on his lap, a new T-shirt on, and he hadn’t put his new “C” down since we finished dinner. It could have been any number of things. Jen gave him some Benadryl, but it didn’t really help. I had him sleep with me that night so I could keep an eye on him. By morning he looked fine (eyes back to normal), but his nose was still stuffed.
For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2026888027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Hours on Road: Mostly in and out of the car
States covered: 1 – South Carolina
Jen made us breakfast tacos and we had a relaxing morning. Trey was relentless about going to the pool, so we finally went. Jen had told us about the great slide they have there; it’s really long, like one you’d find at a water park, and you go down it on a raft. She had given us the option of driving or walking to the pool and, because she had said the walk was doable, I decided we should walk. Partway there, Trey, who had become very comfortable with Jen very quickly, started making wiseass comments about the “doable” walk. It was a very hot day and he was rapidly losing interest in walking, so he was giving her a hard time in the way only Trey (or Grampa Huey) could do.
Sadly, when we got there, the slide was closed. The boys had fun playing around in the water, anyway. It was so hot and humid, when I took my camera out the lens fogged up. I cleaned it off, but the photos I took that morning were all a bit hazy. It was hilarious to watch Jen and the boys create swimming challenges for each other and then compete to see who could do them the best.
After the pool, Jen drove us around to sight see; we were all too hot to do much more walking. We nearly melted on the walk home from the pool. The first place was visited was Isle of Palms. I’d been there as a kid a couple of times. Chris and John lived in South Carolina for a while, and when I was young, we generally vacationed wherever it was they lived. The evening I remember most vividly was when I was about 11, which would make Trisha 13, John 4, and Matt 2. Trisha and I were left to babysit the youngins while the older folks went out for dinner. Immediately after the door shut behind Chrissy, Matt started wailing this cry that I was certain they heard in the parking lot – but chose to ignore. The kid was relentless. After a full hour of what should have tired out any normal child, he was still going strong. That’s when I discovered that if I sang one particular song he’d stop his shrieking. It wasn’t even crying; it was more excruciating than that. So, for the next three hours, Trisha and I took turns singing, “Oh, there was a little chickie and he wouldn’t lay an egg, so they rubbed hot water up and down his leg. And the little chickie hollered and the little chickie begged, and the little chickie laid a hardboiled egg. Bum, bum, de, dum, dum. Dum, dum.” The poor chickie, he couldn’t lay an egg cause he was a boy!! But this kept Matt quiet. Even with all that crying, he still turned out to be one of my favorite people!!
After reliving that nightmare, I told the boys I’d get them something to eat. Jen suggested hot dogs at Jack’s Cosmic Hot Dog. What a great suggestion. It was an eclectic place that, if it were anything other than quaint, it might be considered dirty. The chandelier over our heads was made of tea cups with teaspoons hanging off them, there was an old-fashioned child’s pay-a-quarter-for-a-ride red car out front, an antique soda machine, and several torpedoes around the property. I loved the place! The food was great, too, though the Littles got only plain hotdogs.
We then went to see the battery in Charleston. Jen knew so much about the area it was like having our own personal tour guide. I got a photo of the kids at the cannons, and I told them to frown just like I had in a photo that was taken of me and John in that same spot (probably right after the crying incident, so that would explain the frown on my face). He and I were wearing matching shirts and for some reason I looked completely pissed off.
We toured the campus of Jen’s alma mater and saw a couple of the places where she’d lived. What a great place to go to school, right in the heart of Charleston, SC. After that we parked and walked though the open air shops, which are wonderful now but were once the site of slave selling back when that shameful institution existed in America. I bought a beautiful grass basket that had been weaved by the older gentleman selling it. The people who make these baskets collect the grass themselves and must pass along the tradition generationally. I could afford only a small one because they’re very expensive, rightfully so. It’s like with the pottery out west; those who are talented make exceptionally artful pieces. The boys have all run out of money, but to keep them interested in shopping I gave them each $20 to spend. That’s the only souvenir money I’ve given them on this trip. Parker and Cal both bought wooden cutouts that the maker had painted. He fashioned them after college basketball teams, so Parker bought the Army one and Cal got a Cincinnati one, only because it was a big C. Trey bought himself a fedora, which he’s wanted since second grade when his class performed the “Singing in the Rain” portion of the second-grade play. He looks rather dapper in it. Since the hat cost only $10, he also bought a photograph of trees and flowers framing a tiny cabin. He felt that the trees looked like the whomping willows from Harry Potter. As we were leaving, Parker spied a drawing of Biggie Smalls that he really wanted. He said he didn’t even like Rap, but Biggie Smalls was totally cool. I told him if it was less than $10 I’d get it for him. It was just a print of the original drawing, so it was only $10. Shoot, I’d thought for sure it would be more. So we’re now the proud owners of a Biggie Smalls print.
Jen, like Tim, thought it was important that we had a bumper sticker from her area, so that’s what we got next. It doesn’t say South Carolina, but it’s the palmetto tree, so anyone who knows their states will know what state it belongs to.
Jen also felt it was very important that we experience the Piggly Wiggly grocery store, and she insisted on buying the boys T-shirts from said store. They love their new shirts. We also picked up a movie at the store: “The Bounty Hunter.”
We got Chick Fil-A again, only this time, we ate it at home, by candlelight, with Biggie Smalls. We all had wine glasses, except Biggie, and placemats, and we dined by candlelight, with Biggie in the center of the table. It was exquisite.
While we watched Bounty Hunter, Cal had an allergic reaction; we don’t know to what. He had a cat on his lap, a new T-shirt on, and he hadn’t put his new “C” down since we finished dinner. It could have been any number of things. Jen gave him some Benadryl, but it didn’t really help. I had him sleep with me that night so I could keep an eye on him. By morning he looked fine (eyes back to normal), but his nose was still stuffed.
For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2026888027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Day 43 – Mount Pleasant, SC, Day 1
Miles traveled: 355
Hours on Road: 6
States covered: 2 – Georgia, South Carolina
As we were getting ready to leave, Tim realized we didn’t have a Peachtree City bumper sticker, and he thought that was unacceptable. While we packed up, he ran out and bought not only a bumper sticker but also t-shirts for the boys. He’d also spent the morning making sandwiches for us and proceeded to fill the cooler with soda, chips, and the sandwiches. He certainly takes care of his houseguests.
None of us wanted to leave, we’d been having so much fun. Time constraints had not allowed us to stay with any relatives for more than two nights, but there was also a little of the “leave them wanting more” philosophy going on in my head. I didn’t want to stay with anyone so long that they were anxious for us to leave. I know us; it doesn’t take long to overstay our welcome.
The ride was pretty uneventful. It was supposed to take us five and half hours and it took us six, so that’s about right. We didn’t have to stop for lunch because Tim had provided us with everything we needed. The only traffic issue occurred when we first got on 26; traffic was poking along at about 30 mph, occasionally picking up to 40. I figured it was beach traffic since we were on the road from Columbia to Charleston. We had 102 miles to go on the road, so I was starting to think it might have been a bad idea to plan on going there on a Friday. At about 12 miles in, we discovered what the problem was. A tractor-trailer was on its side down a six-foot embankment to the right. That couldn’t have been fun. Trey rambled on about how lucky the driver was that he hadn’t been in England because then he’d have been on the side that was smashed because they drive on the other side of the road. Because we laughed about our inability to understand what the heck he’d said, he provided a lengthy, hostile, red-faced, guttural explanation, which we still didn’t understand but decided we’d pretend we did so he’d calm down. (I just now asked him what he meant and he very calmly told me that, in England, the driver would have been sitting on the right side of the cab so when it fell over to the right it would have landed on the side he was sitting on.)
We got to Jen’s about the same time she did. Her apartment is great. While we relaxed, she went out and got stuff for dinner and then made us two pizzas and two chicken, pesto, cheese, and spinach Panini’s. She also had some ice-cold beers in the fridge and ice cream in the freezer.
We hung out and talked and watched TV to very late in the night. She gave us the two beds upstairs while she slept on the couch. I got the king-size bed that I had to share with Trey, but the bed was so big and he’s so small, I could barely see him on the other side, over there.
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2026452027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Hours on Road: 6
States covered: 2 – Georgia, South Carolina
As we were getting ready to leave, Tim realized we didn’t have a Peachtree City bumper sticker, and he thought that was unacceptable. While we packed up, he ran out and bought not only a bumper sticker but also t-shirts for the boys. He’d also spent the morning making sandwiches for us and proceeded to fill the cooler with soda, chips, and the sandwiches. He certainly takes care of his houseguests.
None of us wanted to leave, we’d been having so much fun. Time constraints had not allowed us to stay with any relatives for more than two nights, but there was also a little of the “leave them wanting more” philosophy going on in my head. I didn’t want to stay with anyone so long that they were anxious for us to leave. I know us; it doesn’t take long to overstay our welcome.
The ride was pretty uneventful. It was supposed to take us five and half hours and it took us six, so that’s about right. We didn’t have to stop for lunch because Tim had provided us with everything we needed. The only traffic issue occurred when we first got on 26; traffic was poking along at about 30 mph, occasionally picking up to 40. I figured it was beach traffic since we were on the road from Columbia to Charleston. We had 102 miles to go on the road, so I was starting to think it might have been a bad idea to plan on going there on a Friday. At about 12 miles in, we discovered what the problem was. A tractor-trailer was on its side down a six-foot embankment to the right. That couldn’t have been fun. Trey rambled on about how lucky the driver was that he hadn’t been in England because then he’d have been on the side that was smashed because they drive on the other side of the road. Because we laughed about our inability to understand what the heck he’d said, he provided a lengthy, hostile, red-faced, guttural explanation, which we still didn’t understand but decided we’d pretend we did so he’d calm down. (I just now asked him what he meant and he very calmly told me that, in England, the driver would have been sitting on the right side of the cab so when it fell over to the right it would have landed on the side he was sitting on.)
We got to Jen’s about the same time she did. Her apartment is great. While we relaxed, she went out and got stuff for dinner and then made us two pizzas and two chicken, pesto, cheese, and spinach Panini’s. She also had some ice-cold beers in the fridge and ice cream in the freezer.
We hung out and talked and watched TV to very late in the night. She gave us the two beds upstairs while she slept on the couch. I got the king-size bed that I had to share with Trey, but the bed was so big and he’s so small, I could barely see him on the other side, over there.
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2026452027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Day 42 – Peachtree City, GA, Day 2
Miles traveled: Doesn’t matter because Tim drove!!
Hours on Road: Don’t care!!
States covered: 1 – Georgia
After a great breakfast of homemade pancakes and coffee (for me, not the kids) we headed out for the Georgia Aquarium, the largest aquarium in the world, donated to Atlanta by Bernie Marcus, co-founder of Home Depot. It was amazing. Each tank is full of thousands of fish, and most of the tanks are positioned to not only stand in front of the viewer, but to also stand overtop as well, so you get the feeling of being in the tank with the marine life. I was particularly excited to see the whale sharks; and they did not disappoint. We timed our viewing of them perfectly because divers were in the water and we could get a real feel for just how large the whale sharks were when they swam by the divers. The three in the tank were not full grown and they were already 15 to 20 feet long. The rays looked like they were playing in the divers’ bubbles, doing back flips and swimming through the froth. According to the person with the microphone, they were doing the back flips in an effort to catch krill. I think they were playing.
We also petted some small rays and little sharks, both of which felt smooth and spongy. I was surprised that the sharks were so smooth. We saw penguins, beluga whales, seals, otters, seahorses, sea dragons – I think we saw everything the sea has to offer except an octopus. They might have had one there, but we didn’t see it. We were there for a good two hours.
After the aquarium we drove around in downtown Atlanta. Tim was mainly looking for a Chick Fil-A, which I now know how to spell, but we couldn’t find one in the downtown area. We decided to head back to Peachtree City to find one. One thing that amazed me about downtown Atlanta was, where two lanes narrowed down to one lane as they joined with a larger road, people were not expected (or trusted) to merge of their own accord. Two lights were placed at the entrance to the larger road and they alternately flashed red then green. Neither stayed red or green for an extended period of time. One stayed green long enough for one car to pass through, then it turned red, while the other light turned green, as if the people of the area could not comprehend the concept of taking turns. I suppose it’s a good idea here in the east, where people are in such a hurry. Out west, when a sign on the highway said that a lane was to end, the people would move over to the other lane right then and there. In the east, when it says a lane is to end, the drivers hang on to the last possible second before jamming their way into a place not willingly made available between two cars. It runs so much more smoothly out west.
On the drive back to Peachtree, Tim informed me that the gun I shot at John’s was not a Six Hour 9-millimeter, but a Sig Sauer 9-millimeter. Parker said he knew that it was spelled that way. I guess I was the only uninformed participant. That’s not the only thing I’ve messed up on this trip. Whenever the song “Replay” by Iyaz comes on, I sing, “It’s like my eyeball’s stuck on replay, replay.” I knew it didn’t make sense, but that doesn’t necessarily affect my thought process. Heck, a Six Hour 9-millimeter doesn’t make sense either. It works for only six hours then you can’t use it any longer? For those who are not familiar with the song, it goes: “It’s like my I-pod’s stuck on replay, replay.” Yes, it makes much more sense.
We found a Chick Fil-A near Tim’s, and the boys had their first experience with its wonderfulness. They soon appreciated why I wanted so desperately to go to one. After our meal, it was close to the end of the school day for Ian. The boys went with Uncle Tim to see all the golf carts lined up in the parking lot of the school. There were hundreds of them. Lots of kids had cars, as well, but most had golf carts. When the boys got home from seeing that, Aunt Susan took us out to watch the parade of golf carts that came down the street once school got out. Most of the kids drove way too fast, but I know I would have done the same thing at that age.
Once Ian got home, the boys all went swimming down at the lake. Before they left, however, Trey asked me which door in the hallway was to the bathroom. He didn’t know because he’d been using the upstairs bathroom since we got there. I told him it was the door that had the sign that said, “The 100” on it. Between guffaws, Tim said, “It says ‘The Loo.’” Now that made more sense. When I first saw the sign I had taken a close look at it to see if it had some parts wiped off that might have made “The 100” make sense.
The boys swam for a very long time. There’s a paddle boat down there, too, so they were out on that quite a bit and were just returning from a jaunt when Susan and I went down to check on them. Ian wanted to take them to the dam to see if they could catch a snapping turtle. They were off again. They’re never bored when they’re with their cousin.
After the kids got back (they did not catch a snapping turtle) Tim treated us to dinner at Ted’s Montana Grill. All the boys drove there in the golf cart and picked Ian’s girlfriend, Cara, up on the way. Tim, Susan, and I took the Suburban and met them there. Dinner was great. The boys all had bison burgers, without even wondering “what kind of sick freak” that would make them. They said that the golf cart had nearly run out of juice on the way there, so Uncle Tim had only Parker ride with him on the way home. Ian had homework to do and the Littles would have added too much weight and, alone, would not have been as helpful as Parker if the cart needed to be pushed.
The Peachtree City police are notorious for giving tickets without mercy. Uncle Tim fell victim to that lack of mercy this night. I’m not saying he was a victim to false allegations – he was guilty as hell. But once in a while, it’s OK for a cop to let someone off with a warning rather than sucking money from people who are just trying to get home. The first part of the problem was, golf carts are not allowed on the road and can cross only in designated areas. The second part of the problem was, Tim didn’t know how to get to the road that allows carts to cross. As he approached the road he knew he shouldn’t cross, he saw a cop farther up the road and tried to wait him out. He finally decided the cop wasn’t watching down the street where he was, and went for the illegal move. Turns out, the cop was watching, very closely. Tim and Parker had barely crossed the street when the lights came on. One bright side, at least they were across the street by the time the cop got to them. After the ticket episode, Tim knew the rest of the way home. Then a third problem reared its ugly head: the juice in the cart was so low that when Tim stepped on the gas, the headlights went out. They managed to make it to a neighbor’s house (both of them pushing the cart up a hill at one point), and the neighbor hooked them up to his own golf cart and towed them home. I guess Tim got his curse while we were still there, rather than waiting until the day after we left.
For corresponding photos, go to: http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2011670027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Hours on Road: Don’t care!!
States covered: 1 – Georgia
After a great breakfast of homemade pancakes and coffee (for me, not the kids) we headed out for the Georgia Aquarium, the largest aquarium in the world, donated to Atlanta by Bernie Marcus, co-founder of Home Depot. It was amazing. Each tank is full of thousands of fish, and most of the tanks are positioned to not only stand in front of the viewer, but to also stand overtop as well, so you get the feeling of being in the tank with the marine life. I was particularly excited to see the whale sharks; and they did not disappoint. We timed our viewing of them perfectly because divers were in the water and we could get a real feel for just how large the whale sharks were when they swam by the divers. The three in the tank were not full grown and they were already 15 to 20 feet long. The rays looked like they were playing in the divers’ bubbles, doing back flips and swimming through the froth. According to the person with the microphone, they were doing the back flips in an effort to catch krill. I think they were playing.
We also petted some small rays and little sharks, both of which felt smooth and spongy. I was surprised that the sharks were so smooth. We saw penguins, beluga whales, seals, otters, seahorses, sea dragons – I think we saw everything the sea has to offer except an octopus. They might have had one there, but we didn’t see it. We were there for a good two hours.
After the aquarium we drove around in downtown Atlanta. Tim was mainly looking for a Chick Fil-A, which I now know how to spell, but we couldn’t find one in the downtown area. We decided to head back to Peachtree City to find one. One thing that amazed me about downtown Atlanta was, where two lanes narrowed down to one lane as they joined with a larger road, people were not expected (or trusted) to merge of their own accord. Two lights were placed at the entrance to the larger road and they alternately flashed red then green. Neither stayed red or green for an extended period of time. One stayed green long enough for one car to pass through, then it turned red, while the other light turned green, as if the people of the area could not comprehend the concept of taking turns. I suppose it’s a good idea here in the east, where people are in such a hurry. Out west, when a sign on the highway said that a lane was to end, the people would move over to the other lane right then and there. In the east, when it says a lane is to end, the drivers hang on to the last possible second before jamming their way into a place not willingly made available between two cars. It runs so much more smoothly out west.
On the drive back to Peachtree, Tim informed me that the gun I shot at John’s was not a Six Hour 9-millimeter, but a Sig Sauer 9-millimeter. Parker said he knew that it was spelled that way. I guess I was the only uninformed participant. That’s not the only thing I’ve messed up on this trip. Whenever the song “Replay” by Iyaz comes on, I sing, “It’s like my eyeball’s stuck on replay, replay.” I knew it didn’t make sense, but that doesn’t necessarily affect my thought process. Heck, a Six Hour 9-millimeter doesn’t make sense either. It works for only six hours then you can’t use it any longer? For those who are not familiar with the song, it goes: “It’s like my I-pod’s stuck on replay, replay.” Yes, it makes much more sense.
We found a Chick Fil-A near Tim’s, and the boys had their first experience with its wonderfulness. They soon appreciated why I wanted so desperately to go to one. After our meal, it was close to the end of the school day for Ian. The boys went with Uncle Tim to see all the golf carts lined up in the parking lot of the school. There were hundreds of them. Lots of kids had cars, as well, but most had golf carts. When the boys got home from seeing that, Aunt Susan took us out to watch the parade of golf carts that came down the street once school got out. Most of the kids drove way too fast, but I know I would have done the same thing at that age.
Once Ian got home, the boys all went swimming down at the lake. Before they left, however, Trey asked me which door in the hallway was to the bathroom. He didn’t know because he’d been using the upstairs bathroom since we got there. I told him it was the door that had the sign that said, “The 100” on it. Between guffaws, Tim said, “It says ‘The Loo.’” Now that made more sense. When I first saw the sign I had taken a close look at it to see if it had some parts wiped off that might have made “The 100” make sense.
The boys swam for a very long time. There’s a paddle boat down there, too, so they were out on that quite a bit and were just returning from a jaunt when Susan and I went down to check on them. Ian wanted to take them to the dam to see if they could catch a snapping turtle. They were off again. They’re never bored when they’re with their cousin.
After the kids got back (they did not catch a snapping turtle) Tim treated us to dinner at Ted’s Montana Grill. All the boys drove there in the golf cart and picked Ian’s girlfriend, Cara, up on the way. Tim, Susan, and I took the Suburban and met them there. Dinner was great. The boys all had bison burgers, without even wondering “what kind of sick freak” that would make them. They said that the golf cart had nearly run out of juice on the way there, so Uncle Tim had only Parker ride with him on the way home. Ian had homework to do and the Littles would have added too much weight and, alone, would not have been as helpful as Parker if the cart needed to be pushed.
The Peachtree City police are notorious for giving tickets without mercy. Uncle Tim fell victim to that lack of mercy this night. I’m not saying he was a victim to false allegations – he was guilty as hell. But once in a while, it’s OK for a cop to let someone off with a warning rather than sucking money from people who are just trying to get home. The first part of the problem was, golf carts are not allowed on the road and can cross only in designated areas. The second part of the problem was, Tim didn’t know how to get to the road that allows carts to cross. As he approached the road he knew he shouldn’t cross, he saw a cop farther up the road and tried to wait him out. He finally decided the cop wasn’t watching down the street where he was, and went for the illegal move. Turns out, the cop was watching, very closely. Tim and Parker had barely crossed the street when the lights came on. One bright side, at least they were across the street by the time the cop got to them. After the ticket episode, Tim knew the rest of the way home. Then a third problem reared its ugly head: the juice in the cart was so low that when Tim stepped on the gas, the headlights went out. They managed to make it to a neighbor’s house (both of them pushing the cart up a hill at one point), and the neighbor hooked them up to his own golf cart and towed them home. I guess Tim got his curse while we were still there, rather than waiting until the day after we left.
For corresponding photos, go to: http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2011670027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Day 41 – Peachtree City, GA, Day 1
Miles traveled: 410
Hours on Road: 6
States covered: 4 – Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia
As we tried to leave Tennessee we found ourselves in the presence of (and behind) the worst driver in the world. It was bad enough that we were trapped on a road that, though it looked like it wanted to be a highway, because some fool plunked stop lights all along it, it was nothing but a four-lane stop and go traffic nightmare, and bad enough that there were thousands of tractor trailers on this road, but to add insult to injury, the aforementioned fool wouldn’t go fast enough to pass the semi that was right next to her and kept swaying back and forth erratically in her lane; she left me unable to do anything but stay far behind them both, cursing under my breath. I could see the driver’s right hand gesturing wildly while holding a cigarette between fingers haunted by three-inch nails, and during one of the swaying episodes the car wandered over into the left-hand turning lane; but I wasn’t positive that it was the driver’s intention to actually turn left, so I kept behind the car’s weaving space until it came to a complete stop, at which point I could see, as I drove past, that the driver’s other hand was busy holding a phone to her ear, which explained not only the right-hand gesturing, but the bad driving, as well.
Leaving her behind, we had the pleasure of driving through yet another violent storm that allowed zero visibility through the front window as well as in the side mirror. I cannot understand how others can plow forward at high speeds without the ability to see the road or any traffic ahead of or behind them. Even though cars had their headlights on, I couldn’t see them until they were almost right on me. Because I slowed down to 45 mph during the heaviest outbursts of rain, I turned on my hazard lights. I soon caught up to a car going only slightly slower than I had been, so I felt comfortable that someone else was being as cautious as I. But that car continued to go slow even when the rain let up a little from time to time, and though I wanted to pick up speed during those times, I was too chicken to pass. After several stints of slowed rain and impatience on my part, I sucked it up, held my breath, waited for the faster cars to go by me, and I pulled over into that elusive (to me anyway) left lane, and I passed, hands gripping the wheel, breath held, shoulders tights, and eyes wide. The rain and my driving continued in this manner for about an hour before finally letting up for good. I am priming myself for a stroke or a heart attack. Seriously!!
I knew that Birmingham was on the course we had set for the day’s drive, which I found exciting since that is where Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote his magnificent “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” in which he states that “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” The problem with our drive through Birmingham began with the breakdown of Lee. Yesterday Parker was able to get him to work with a little careful fussing. Today, Cal rode in the front seat, and his fussing was evidently not as careful as Parker’s because by the time I got out to the van, the issue was no longer that Lee did not believe the cord was supplying a charge, the problem was that the cord would no longer plug into Lee at all. I have no idea what Cal did, but he brought an end to any relationship Lee was going to have with that plug. He still had a little charge left in him, so we were able to use him to get out of Tennessee and then we turned him off to save juice, but by the time we reached Birmingham he had little to no life left in him at all, so we tried to go without him. Luckily, I had printed out all our directions from MapQuest, so we did have a clue as to what to do. Unluckily, the directions from MapQuest sucked. They said to get on a road that was really three roads combined for a while, then veer left on one of the roads until it took you to the highway that continued on to Georgia. We took a left but couldn’t find any clue as to where the next road we were looking for was. We took a right, hoping to find a sign somewhere, but all we ran into was a train stopped across the road. So I did a U-turn. We then took a right, which had us continuing on the road we’d first turned left on. We couldn’t get straight whether we should go north or south on 59, which was also 65, because north on one was south on the other – go figure. So we woke Lee up. He said to do a U-turn; so I did. He then brought us back down the road we had just come from where the train was stopped, (broken-down stopped), so we did another U-turn, figuring we’d head back along the same road we’d originally turned left on and had done that second U-turn on. During the very short drive on that road, we finally figured out that both Lee and the MapQuest directions ultimately wanted us on 65 South, but I was already in the middle lane and couldn’t get over to the right in time to get to the on-ramp for the highway without cutting off a semi, so we pulled to the left, and did our second U-turn in that spot, which was actually our fourth U-turn altogether. So we went back down the road where the train was stopped (we felt comfortably familiar with that road by now), did a third u-turn on that road, making it the fifth U-turn within 10 minutes, pulled right out of that road, turned right onto the highway, and were on our way once again. Like the bats at Carlsbad Caverns, we had to circle counterclockwise around our half-mile long area of departure from Birmingham before we could take flight onto the highway.
This drive was a very long drive. Because we’ve been on the road so long, it felt like a painfully long drive, especially since we’ve come to realize that when the directions say it’s going to take five hours, it’s really going to take seven. We stopped only for lunch at Sonic, and otherwise we were driving forward. We called Tim a couple of times to coordinate our meeting time and make sure we were going in the right direction. We also used a trick my wonderful nephew John had shown me in Austin. Lee could be hooked up to the computer through the cord that hooks the camera up to the computer for downloading photos, so while I drove, I directed my children, step by step in clear, slow English, what to do. Parker had to take the computer out of its bag and hook up its plug, while Cal had to hook the inverter up to the lighter in the van and plug the computer plug into it. Cal then had to find and give to Parker the necessary camera cord, which Parker plugged into the computer and Cal hooked up to Lee. Then it was only a matter of turning the computer on, which Trey took care of. Viola, a charging GPS. The only problem was that Lee wouldn’t provide any directions while he charged this way, but we had 210 miles on the same highway, so we had time to wait.
When we were just outside Atlanta, we woke Lee back up, and he managed to guide us from one road to the next. We panicked a little at each stoplight when Lee would let us know the batteries were getting low. We’d press OK, but he’d keep reminding us, as if there was something we could do about it. Couldn’t he understand? We couldn’t hook him up to the van! Somehow, some way, with his last dying breath, Lee got us to the parking lot where we were to meet Uncle Tim.
Tim took us to Delta’s flight simulator building so see if we could get a little flight time. He was able to find someone there, Paul, who was willing and able to take us for a ride. We entered what exactly simulated a 777 cockpit. I felt like I was on the flight deck of the USS Enterprise, there were so many lit-up buttons. The windows were blank, but when Paul asked us where we were from, and we said Connecticut, he called up the LaGuardia airport as our view out the window. It was amazing how real it looked. They use Google Earth as their mapping system. I took photos of the “view” out the “window.” Then we took off. It’s unbelievable that we were sitting in a room-sized cube because I would have sworn we were taking off: the pressure felt real, the tilt felt real (that probably was, because I’m sure the room tilted back). I even got a little motion sickness as I looked out the window while we were flying. Paul pointed out all the sights we were seeing: Manhattan, Citi Field, some bridges (I took a photo of one bridge). It was an amazing experience. We had to “land” a little early because there had been some planned maintenance of the equipment that Paul had been unaware of, but it was amazing nonetheless. Many thanks go out to Paul and to Uncle Tim.
On the way to Tim’s house, I followed along behind him, and he drove at a reasonable speed, which is not easy for him. He became a pilot to fulfill his need for speed. The boys went swimming in the lake behind Tim’s house with their cousin, Ian, while I pounded a few beers and talked with Tim and Susan. They’d prepared a barbeque pork rib dinner for us that, I have to say, was better than the one the night before (sorry, Cozy Corner). There was more meat on these bones.
After dinner, Tim took the boys out on golf cart, which is one of their favorite things in the world to do. He even bought them ice cream. It was so nice and relaxing just hanging out. When I went to bed, it was in my own private suite in an apartment over the garage. I didn’t do much with the blog because it was more fun to talk with family members I haven’t seen in a while, that’s why this is being posted several days after the fact. But I sure slept well, and I woke up when I felt like it, not when a boy decided I should wake up.
For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2006591027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Hours on Road: 6
States covered: 4 – Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia
As we tried to leave Tennessee we found ourselves in the presence of (and behind) the worst driver in the world. It was bad enough that we were trapped on a road that, though it looked like it wanted to be a highway, because some fool plunked stop lights all along it, it was nothing but a four-lane stop and go traffic nightmare, and bad enough that there were thousands of tractor trailers on this road, but to add insult to injury, the aforementioned fool wouldn’t go fast enough to pass the semi that was right next to her and kept swaying back and forth erratically in her lane; she left me unable to do anything but stay far behind them both, cursing under my breath. I could see the driver’s right hand gesturing wildly while holding a cigarette between fingers haunted by three-inch nails, and during one of the swaying episodes the car wandered over into the left-hand turning lane; but I wasn’t positive that it was the driver’s intention to actually turn left, so I kept behind the car’s weaving space until it came to a complete stop, at which point I could see, as I drove past, that the driver’s other hand was busy holding a phone to her ear, which explained not only the right-hand gesturing, but the bad driving, as well.
Leaving her behind, we had the pleasure of driving through yet another violent storm that allowed zero visibility through the front window as well as in the side mirror. I cannot understand how others can plow forward at high speeds without the ability to see the road or any traffic ahead of or behind them. Even though cars had their headlights on, I couldn’t see them until they were almost right on me. Because I slowed down to 45 mph during the heaviest outbursts of rain, I turned on my hazard lights. I soon caught up to a car going only slightly slower than I had been, so I felt comfortable that someone else was being as cautious as I. But that car continued to go slow even when the rain let up a little from time to time, and though I wanted to pick up speed during those times, I was too chicken to pass. After several stints of slowed rain and impatience on my part, I sucked it up, held my breath, waited for the faster cars to go by me, and I pulled over into that elusive (to me anyway) left lane, and I passed, hands gripping the wheel, breath held, shoulders tights, and eyes wide. The rain and my driving continued in this manner for about an hour before finally letting up for good. I am priming myself for a stroke or a heart attack. Seriously!!
I knew that Birmingham was on the course we had set for the day’s drive, which I found exciting since that is where Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote his magnificent “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” in which he states that “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” The problem with our drive through Birmingham began with the breakdown of Lee. Yesterday Parker was able to get him to work with a little careful fussing. Today, Cal rode in the front seat, and his fussing was evidently not as careful as Parker’s because by the time I got out to the van, the issue was no longer that Lee did not believe the cord was supplying a charge, the problem was that the cord would no longer plug into Lee at all. I have no idea what Cal did, but he brought an end to any relationship Lee was going to have with that plug. He still had a little charge left in him, so we were able to use him to get out of Tennessee and then we turned him off to save juice, but by the time we reached Birmingham he had little to no life left in him at all, so we tried to go without him. Luckily, I had printed out all our directions from MapQuest, so we did have a clue as to what to do. Unluckily, the directions from MapQuest sucked. They said to get on a road that was really three roads combined for a while, then veer left on one of the roads until it took you to the highway that continued on to Georgia. We took a left but couldn’t find any clue as to where the next road we were looking for was. We took a right, hoping to find a sign somewhere, but all we ran into was a train stopped across the road. So I did a U-turn. We then took a right, which had us continuing on the road we’d first turned left on. We couldn’t get straight whether we should go north or south on 59, which was also 65, because north on one was south on the other – go figure. So we woke Lee up. He said to do a U-turn; so I did. He then brought us back down the road we had just come from where the train was stopped, (broken-down stopped), so we did another U-turn, figuring we’d head back along the same road we’d originally turned left on and had done that second U-turn on. During the very short drive on that road, we finally figured out that both Lee and the MapQuest directions ultimately wanted us on 65 South, but I was already in the middle lane and couldn’t get over to the right in time to get to the on-ramp for the highway without cutting off a semi, so we pulled to the left, and did our second U-turn in that spot, which was actually our fourth U-turn altogether. So we went back down the road where the train was stopped (we felt comfortably familiar with that road by now), did a third u-turn on that road, making it the fifth U-turn within 10 minutes, pulled right out of that road, turned right onto the highway, and were on our way once again. Like the bats at Carlsbad Caverns, we had to circle counterclockwise around our half-mile long area of departure from Birmingham before we could take flight onto the highway.
This drive was a very long drive. Because we’ve been on the road so long, it felt like a painfully long drive, especially since we’ve come to realize that when the directions say it’s going to take five hours, it’s really going to take seven. We stopped only for lunch at Sonic, and otherwise we were driving forward. We called Tim a couple of times to coordinate our meeting time and make sure we were going in the right direction. We also used a trick my wonderful nephew John had shown me in Austin. Lee could be hooked up to the computer through the cord that hooks the camera up to the computer for downloading photos, so while I drove, I directed my children, step by step in clear, slow English, what to do. Parker had to take the computer out of its bag and hook up its plug, while Cal had to hook the inverter up to the lighter in the van and plug the computer plug into it. Cal then had to find and give to Parker the necessary camera cord, which Parker plugged into the computer and Cal hooked up to Lee. Then it was only a matter of turning the computer on, which Trey took care of. Viola, a charging GPS. The only problem was that Lee wouldn’t provide any directions while he charged this way, but we had 210 miles on the same highway, so we had time to wait.
When we were just outside Atlanta, we woke Lee back up, and he managed to guide us from one road to the next. We panicked a little at each stoplight when Lee would let us know the batteries were getting low. We’d press OK, but he’d keep reminding us, as if there was something we could do about it. Couldn’t he understand? We couldn’t hook him up to the van! Somehow, some way, with his last dying breath, Lee got us to the parking lot where we were to meet Uncle Tim.
Tim took us to Delta’s flight simulator building so see if we could get a little flight time. He was able to find someone there, Paul, who was willing and able to take us for a ride. We entered what exactly simulated a 777 cockpit. I felt like I was on the flight deck of the USS Enterprise, there were so many lit-up buttons. The windows were blank, but when Paul asked us where we were from, and we said Connecticut, he called up the LaGuardia airport as our view out the window. It was amazing how real it looked. They use Google Earth as their mapping system. I took photos of the “view” out the “window.” Then we took off. It’s unbelievable that we were sitting in a room-sized cube because I would have sworn we were taking off: the pressure felt real, the tilt felt real (that probably was, because I’m sure the room tilted back). I even got a little motion sickness as I looked out the window while we were flying. Paul pointed out all the sights we were seeing: Manhattan, Citi Field, some bridges (I took a photo of one bridge). It was an amazing experience. We had to “land” a little early because there had been some planned maintenance of the equipment that Paul had been unaware of, but it was amazing nonetheless. Many thanks go out to Paul and to Uncle Tim.
On the way to Tim’s house, I followed along behind him, and he drove at a reasonable speed, which is not easy for him. He became a pilot to fulfill his need for speed. The boys went swimming in the lake behind Tim’s house with their cousin, Ian, while I pounded a few beers and talked with Tim and Susan. They’d prepared a barbeque pork rib dinner for us that, I have to say, was better than the one the night before (sorry, Cozy Corner). There was more meat on these bones.
After dinner, Tim took the boys out on golf cart, which is one of their favorite things in the world to do. He even bought them ice cream. It was so nice and relaxing just hanging out. When I went to bed, it was in my own private suite in an apartment over the garage. I didn’t do much with the blog because it was more fun to talk with family members I haven’t seen in a while, that’s why this is being posted several days after the fact. But I sure slept well, and I woke up when I felt like it, not when a boy decided I should wake up.
For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2006591027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Day 40 – Memphis, TN
Miles traveled: 290 (some of this was within Memphis when we went to get dinner)
Hours on Road: 4 (doesn’t include driving around Memphis)
States covered: 2 – Arkansas, Tennessee
We left our Inn around 10:30 after breakfast and some TV watching. The boys are always hesitant to leave because they know we’ll be in the van for several hours. Parker was able to get Lee to work but he made me promise I wouldn’t turn the van off for fear Lee wouldn’t start up again. The problem is with Lee’s connection to the car battery. He insists he isn’t getting any juice, when we know darn well he is. After Parker fiddled with the connection for a while, even Lee had to admit he was connected. So, while the gas tank showed less and less gas within it, Parker kept yelling at me to KEEP GOING!
On our way out of wherever the hell we were, we saw three more dead armadillos along the road. What is with those dumb creatures? Along the road, I got my mojo back so well that I passed a helicopter. Granted, it was on a flatbed and looked like it may have crashed at some point, but I still passed the truck it was on. Speed limit 70 – Annette driving 70. Yes!!
Somewhere along the drive, we passed an area that was obviously pushing some severe form of religion. A billboard read, “Use the rod to save your child’s life.” Then it went on with something about “You must be reborn of the flesh…” and I was passed it before the rest of the sign registered in my brain. I think it’s because my brain had to reread the first part that was encouraging child abuse. Hey, I know some people spank their kids, but do we need billboards encouraging it?
My faith in the driving ability of the truckers around me was not redeemed when I realized that the several burn marks I saw in the grass along the median were the exact size of a tipped-over semi. Yes, at least five burn marks at different spots announcing to the world that a truck had not only turned over there, but it had caught on fire and burned quite fiercely, as well. From then on, when I decided to pass a truck, I went with all the gusto Jose could muster. Speed limit 70 – Annette 85.
My boys have decided to honor me with the name “Pilot,” for the rest of our journey. I thought, at first, it was just their derivative of my choice of Superhero names, Driver. Did I discuss that in an earlier blog? That Parker is Indestructible, Cal is Chameleon, Trey is Flame, and I’m Driver? I thought that’s what they were basing Pilot on. Only, they weren’t. Evidently, I am Pilot because I frequently drop the F-bomb. What rotten kids. Sure, I may slip every now and then, but who wouldn’t on an 8,000 mile trip around the country? My new name came as a result of our driving on a very busy road in Memphis where I wanted to turn left but had to wait for a green arrow and some little punk tried to sneak in front of me. It was just a natural reflex to say something F-related. By the way, the punk never did get in front of me.
The driving on the aforementioned busy street was to get to a liquor store where I bought myself some gin. Yes, gin. And I’m drinking it as I write. But before that, we headed to Hard Rock Café to get my pal, Jim, a T-shirt, as we had done in Dallas. The cool thing was that it was located on Beale Street, center of the Blues. The block that Hard Rock Café is on did not allow cars so, being the good mother I am, I told Parker to hop out and walk along the block by himself to buy the T-shirt, and I’d circle the block and pick him up where I’d dropped him off. Memphis is only the 13th most dangerous city in America. Hell, Hartford is 7th! He was fine. He said some guy walked along with him (wasn’t that nice?). He couldn’t understand a word the guy said, but he kept going and found his way safely to his destination. I was able to stay where I was when I dropped him off. I was illegally parked, but since I remained in the car, I figured that if a cop came along, I’d just move then. Parker came back to me unscathed, as I knew he would, shirt in hand.
After we got the T-shirt, we headed to what two websites had dubbed the best barbeque ribs in Memphis -- Cozy Corner. It’s a converted gas station, so they admit it ain’t pretty, but the ribs were unbelievable. The smoker (a machine, not a person) was right behind the counter where you order, and the guy who took our order was as nice as could be, not to mention jacked, as the boys noticed. They have great admiration for those who work out enough to be jacked. He asked me all about my trip, and we chatted about St. Louis baseball and places you have to see before you die.
We got our dinner as takeout and stopped to get my booze on the way home. The Littles and I had the ribs while Parker got a beef BBQ sandwich. He said it wasn’t as good as Rudy’s, but according to Brian, Texas is the beef BBQ state and Tennessee is the pork BBQ state. Our ribs were fantastic.
After dinner the Littles went swimming. I was going to work on my computer while they swam but the black cloud that is eternally over our heads kept spitting water at me, so I put the computer away and tried to call some of you who read my blog. Where were you all? Only Trisha was home!!! Not that I don’t love talking to my dear sister, but she had called during dinner and Parker had kindly held the phone to my ear while we spoke (he had the only clean hands – he’d finished eating and the rest of us were covered with BBQ sauce).
Now we’re watching TV, par-usual. I’m figuring not much will happen tonight, except going to the pool again, so I’m posting this blog. If something happens, you’ll find out in tomorrow’s post.
Good night to all.
For (the four) corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1998534027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
One’s of the helicopter we passed, one is Cozy Corner, and two are of a cigarette some guy balanced on his car before entering the same liquor store I went into. Are we losing our photo touch?
Hours on Road: 4 (doesn’t include driving around Memphis)
States covered: 2 – Arkansas, Tennessee
We left our Inn around 10:30 after breakfast and some TV watching. The boys are always hesitant to leave because they know we’ll be in the van for several hours. Parker was able to get Lee to work but he made me promise I wouldn’t turn the van off for fear Lee wouldn’t start up again. The problem is with Lee’s connection to the car battery. He insists he isn’t getting any juice, when we know darn well he is. After Parker fiddled with the connection for a while, even Lee had to admit he was connected. So, while the gas tank showed less and less gas within it, Parker kept yelling at me to KEEP GOING!
On our way out of wherever the hell we were, we saw three more dead armadillos along the road. What is with those dumb creatures? Along the road, I got my mojo back so well that I passed a helicopter. Granted, it was on a flatbed and looked like it may have crashed at some point, but I still passed the truck it was on. Speed limit 70 – Annette driving 70. Yes!!
Somewhere along the drive, we passed an area that was obviously pushing some severe form of religion. A billboard read, “Use the rod to save your child’s life.” Then it went on with something about “You must be reborn of the flesh…” and I was passed it before the rest of the sign registered in my brain. I think it’s because my brain had to reread the first part that was encouraging child abuse. Hey, I know some people spank their kids, but do we need billboards encouraging it?
My faith in the driving ability of the truckers around me was not redeemed when I realized that the several burn marks I saw in the grass along the median were the exact size of a tipped-over semi. Yes, at least five burn marks at different spots announcing to the world that a truck had not only turned over there, but it had caught on fire and burned quite fiercely, as well. From then on, when I decided to pass a truck, I went with all the gusto Jose could muster. Speed limit 70 – Annette 85.
My boys have decided to honor me with the name “Pilot,” for the rest of our journey. I thought, at first, it was just their derivative of my choice of Superhero names, Driver. Did I discuss that in an earlier blog? That Parker is Indestructible, Cal is Chameleon, Trey is Flame, and I’m Driver? I thought that’s what they were basing Pilot on. Only, they weren’t. Evidently, I am Pilot because I frequently drop the F-bomb. What rotten kids. Sure, I may slip every now and then, but who wouldn’t on an 8,000 mile trip around the country? My new name came as a result of our driving on a very busy road in Memphis where I wanted to turn left but had to wait for a green arrow and some little punk tried to sneak in front of me. It was just a natural reflex to say something F-related. By the way, the punk never did get in front of me.
The driving on the aforementioned busy street was to get to a liquor store where I bought myself some gin. Yes, gin. And I’m drinking it as I write. But before that, we headed to Hard Rock Café to get my pal, Jim, a T-shirt, as we had done in Dallas. The cool thing was that it was located on Beale Street, center of the Blues. The block that Hard Rock Café is on did not allow cars so, being the good mother I am, I told Parker to hop out and walk along the block by himself to buy the T-shirt, and I’d circle the block and pick him up where I’d dropped him off. Memphis is only the 13th most dangerous city in America. Hell, Hartford is 7th! He was fine. He said some guy walked along with him (wasn’t that nice?). He couldn’t understand a word the guy said, but he kept going and found his way safely to his destination. I was able to stay where I was when I dropped him off. I was illegally parked, but since I remained in the car, I figured that if a cop came along, I’d just move then. Parker came back to me unscathed, as I knew he would, shirt in hand.
After we got the T-shirt, we headed to what two websites had dubbed the best barbeque ribs in Memphis -- Cozy Corner. It’s a converted gas station, so they admit it ain’t pretty, but the ribs were unbelievable. The smoker (a machine, not a person) was right behind the counter where you order, and the guy who took our order was as nice as could be, not to mention jacked, as the boys noticed. They have great admiration for those who work out enough to be jacked. He asked me all about my trip, and we chatted about St. Louis baseball and places you have to see before you die.
We got our dinner as takeout and stopped to get my booze on the way home. The Littles and I had the ribs while Parker got a beef BBQ sandwich. He said it wasn’t as good as Rudy’s, but according to Brian, Texas is the beef BBQ state and Tennessee is the pork BBQ state. Our ribs were fantastic.
After dinner the Littles went swimming. I was going to work on my computer while they swam but the black cloud that is eternally over our heads kept spitting water at me, so I put the computer away and tried to call some of you who read my blog. Where were you all? Only Trisha was home!!! Not that I don’t love talking to my dear sister, but she had called during dinner and Parker had kindly held the phone to my ear while we spoke (he had the only clean hands – he’d finished eating and the rest of us were covered with BBQ sauce).
Now we’re watching TV, par-usual. I’m figuring not much will happen tonight, except going to the pool again, so I’m posting this blog. If something happens, you’ll find out in tomorrow’s post.
Good night to all.
For (the four) corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1998534027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
One’s of the helicopter we passed, one is Cozy Corner, and two are of a cigarette some guy balanced on his car before entering the same liquor store I went into. Are we losing our photo touch?
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