While we wait…

I’ve been condensing the ideas I developed during the most recent explorations.  While I’m still trying to piece them together in ways that make sense to me, there are some ideas I want to explore.

One is the idea of  missing someone.  It’s amazing with the invention of social media how easy it is to convey an idea of longing for someone’s presence.  It’s also astounding how frequently it holds the same weight as a salutation when it is meant to convey a concept greater in significance.

Namely, people will frequently tell you how much they miss you.  People will offer friendly greetings of making plans when you’re in the area or mutual trips.  Personal experience says that no matter how much you lay these things out in advance that only about 1/3 of the people you speak to (or less) actually mean them.  Some people are more inclined to make a connection than others but everyone wishes to be polite enough to not be the one that lets you know that reality doesn’t permit for everyone you know to care as much for you as you do for them..

I’ve lived in a variety of places, often at least one thousand miles from where I knew people I cared about.  I’ve been to war. I’ve traveled without guidance or support.  Each time I step out in travel someone tells me how they’re looking forward to my arrival and there should be plans.  At least 2/3 never happen.  Never.

What does one deduce from this?  Mostly that courtesy extends farther than meaning.  In my mind this makes courtesy at least notably  insincere and thus actually discourteous.  If I’m traveling days to be in a place, if I shouldn’t count on you being a part of the trip then you shouldn’t distract me with your nonsense.




They happen everyday. When I can make a post without typing on my phone, there’s is much to log.

Rocky Mountain High…Colorado

I made it to Denver by dinner time. There’s nothing I want to do less than sleep in Kansas.  


The drive was exhausting though. As I curled up to act in Rome as the Romans do I tried to parse through the many thoughts I had during the long hours of driving. 

There’s a certain similarity between cops and hunters. Maybe that’s why all the cop worship in states where hunting is a favorite past time. Hunters and cops both like to wear special clothing and carry guns, hide in places where their targets pass by, and typically they both shoot more than is necessary…I’ve got it. Maybe if black people start wearing blaze orange the police will shoot them less. Hunters do it to help prevent shooting another human. Could be all cops need, something a person can wear so they can be ID’d as human and cops will know not to shoot at them. 

Clearly, long hours of driving put my head in a weird space. 

I guess we are in Kansas, Toto.

When you sleep in your car it can be difficult to decide to wake up. Usually just in the winter. Comfort isn’t so much as issue as braving the cold outside of your sleeping bag or blanket…I mean, damn, I’m half naked and someone needs to start the car…and I have to pee.

I think my least favorite part of a cross country drive always seems to be Kansas. 8 hours. It’s near maddening to have this scenery (or lack thereof) for so long. If you are having thoughts that drive you crazy – worries, concerns – then this is not something you wanna do.

Most of this trip has centered mentally around my curiosity about the call of the road. It occurred to me that most of it seems to be about possibility. The possibilities of doing new things in new places with new people is always so appealing. It’s perfect for the jaded. Maybe it’s the disconnect. Driving, unlike flying or public transportation, means having to not be constantly in contact with people you know. Sure technology makes it easier but it’s still a test of patience. The beauty is that it allows you to hear your own inner dialogue again. Your thoughts are clear and you cannot hide from them. 

Go for a drive and work out your life.

I need to go back to rushing through Kansas to Colorado.

Meet Me in St. Louis

I had hoped to run into a friend in St. Louis. Damn technology, I should start writing phone numbers down. 

I’ve reached the stage of driving that’s become intensely introspective. I think I should sleep more. Colorado by tomorrow. 

Today’s word was possibility.

Nashville and it’s Siren

A little road hygiene  
And then it’s off to Nashville. I don’t wanna stay too long but I need to get off the road and eat. That’s where I meet her.  Her eyes are watching me as I move to the table and it’s not longer after she pounces. She slides into my booth and starts small talk. She seems friendly and I like her eyes. We make a lot of chatter, mostly about nothing but partially about travel. We talk about music and she buys my meal.  

 We decide to hang out awhile, she drives me around and I have quickly decided this is the most dangerous thing so far but mostly because of her driving. Maybe I should have offered to drive. 

We check out the Parthenon at the park nearby, it’s beautiful. It’s funny how stuff like probably seems hum-drum to the residents here but I was struck by it. Maybe it was the lighting.  

Her words are carefree, youth with no worries. Her eyes tell me she wants to love me but only tonight. The sirens bring the ships to shore, but too rocky to survive. It’s time to pull anchor and head back out to sea. 

I’m sure my leaving without succumbing tells me a lot about my growth as a man but right now all I think about is something that is not within my grasp, literally or figuratively. 

The sun fled hours ago and now so will I.

9 hours in.

Coffee causes too many stops. I have lowered my caffeine intake for this trip and decided to pretty much stick to occasional coffee. Already I’ve stopped more on this trip than any other. 

I woke in a bundle curled up in the drivers seat of my car. It was surprisingly warm despite the outside temperature being in the teens. Too bad it had to end as I extended my feet from beneath the heavy golden comforter. It made my morning piss all the more exciting as I raced to hide my near frozen dong from frigid air. Not to be confused with the Frigidaire, which is a brand of refrigerator, and I would never hide my frank and beans from that.

The bright side of all of the stops is the constant reminder to take it all in. One state down.