| I'm the sort that gets out of the bath with a dirty face. |
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| Day 5. |
[25 Jun 2009|11:11pm] |
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music |
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Duke Ellington, "I Met My Waterloo" |
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I have nineteen minutes to write this update before the hotel computer kicks me off. Someone should be playing Khachaturian's Sabre Dance.
Florida is gorgeous beyond description. Driving down the streets of Miami, with palm trees punctuating each building and street corner, is like driving across a postcard. The rain storms are funny here; you can see them in the distance as you drive down the highway, a gray hazy curtain descending from the heavens. Then suddenly your car is walloped by a fist of rain, which then whisks itself away as quick as it came.
I couldn't get near a computer yesterday, as I spent it driving from South Carolina across the length of Georgia. South Carolina desperately wants to get your attention; the moment I passed over the border, there were billboards of every kind screeching offers for peaches, fireworks, rugs--I went by the largest rug store I've ever seen, easily the size of three Wal-Marts. Stopped in Atlanta, which was tremendously hot. Little Five Points had two passable record stores; I foolishly spent seventy dollars on a vinyl copy of A Senile Animal. I've been on a serious Melvins kick lately; I must be rediscovering my inner stoner doom metal fan. Then a four-hour drive to Florida, passing advertisements for a used book sale offering a 300,000 number of items, which I passed up much to my regret. Especially since I've lost my copy of Koestler's Darkness at Noon that I was reading.
The Orlando Turnpike may be the most desolate driving experience ever to be found in a land of lush vegetation. Other than the cars, there's no sign of life for miles; no exits, no ads, and very sparsely placed service plazas. Admittedly, it was a relief after the two dozen or so anti-abortion billboards I'd seen in the northern part of the state: pictures of babies with "My Heartbeat Starts at 18 Weeks" and the like. Who pays for them all, I wonder? I also noted that both Best Western and Super 8 displayed ads with the little Jesus-fish symbol on them; simple market pandering or an indication of support for the religious right from the board of directors on down? I need to research this when I have internet access that isn't measured in microwave-popcorn time.
Anyway, I stop at one of the rara-avis service plazas to get gas. Once I get back on the road, I look in the rearview mirror, see that the door to the gas tank is open, and say, "Oh, bother." Pull over to the side of the road with the car still running, open the door, lock the door, close the door. Run around and close the gas tank, then reach in my pocket for my keys. Does anyone see where the complication comes in?
So there's very little about being stuck on a major freeway in 100 degrees with cars whizzing past you at 30 mph, your car running and unable to get into it, that induces a calm, rational state of mind. The one thing my fevered inspiration seized on was that the back driver's side window was open a crack. Shoving my fingers inside, I slowly pulled down until lo and behold, I was able to reach my arm inside and unlock the door. Crisis averted, right?
I drive off, reaching behind me to roll up the window. It is not until I'm on the road that I realize this endeavor was unsuccessful, as the noise from the road is still coming very loudly through the still-open window. Not about to pull over again, I drive the forty-plus miles to the next service plaza, calmly get out and attempt to roll the window up. It will not budge, despite heavy grunting and straining of fingers. Well this is a fine fix. So now it's another forty miles to the next exit, where I pay a nice man a mere 50 dollars to not so much fix the window as pin it closed for the duration. And onward ho I go once again.
Now, are you ready for the funny part?
An hour later I remembered I had a spare key to the car in my wallet.
Woe and trouble, she follows me so.
Anyway, when I got to Miami, I pulled in at a Red Carpet Inn. The owner insisted on me paying sixty bucks in cash and escorting me to my room, which did not have a remote or a very nice smell, but did have an oven and a microwave(?!?) plus a steady parade of characters parading outside. I'm running out of time, so long story short, I ditched that place and am now in a very nice, if much more expensive, Holiday Inn. Tomorrow I explore Miami, then on to New Orleans.
Abbreviated soundtrack: Sebadoh, Bill Evans, Incapacitants, Iggy Pop, Ray Charles, Bessie Smith, Robyn Hitchcock, Fela Anikulapo Kuti, Kinski.
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| Day 3. |
[23 Jun 2009|12:02pm] |
North Carolina is very green. Farm country, obvs. I drive and I see rows and rows of corn and wheatfields. Bizarrely, on 95 there are about twenty signs indicating a travel center north of Rocky Mount where you can plan vacations in Orlando, Florida. They're evenly spaced out for about five, ten miles. Even disregarding the monomaniacal fixation on Orlando, how difficult could that vacation be to plan? "Day 1: Go to Disneyworld. Day 2: Go back to Disneyworld. Repeat."
I got out of DC just before the accident happened, but that didn't stop my mom from calling me panicked as I was crossing into Virginia. Stopped at this truck stop in Dowsell to eat last night. Nice place. They sell spare parts for trucks in addition to various "energizer" tonics. Sat down at the counter, some old guy a few chair over. A black dude came in and sat across from us. The old guy starts coughing and the black guy asks what's the matter. "Too much pepper in my eggs," he says. "That'll do it," says the other dude. I start wondering how this conversation would have gone forty years ago, and how casual and small a moment it seems now. It's enough to make you wonder, was this what everyone was afraid of? All sorts of people casting about insisting that it would be anarchy if the black and white races mixed. And now it's so obviously not an issue. Something to remember when you hear Republicans crying over the threat of gay marriage, government-run health care, or deficit spending.
I finished my dinner and went to the bathroom. Inside the stall is much graffiti; racist, anti-Obama messages as well as solicitations for gay sex. You almost wonder if there's people out there who write both. Outside was a tiny little chapel next to the restaurant. Nobody was watching over it, you could just go in and pray if you want. There was a ragged old Bible that looked like it had been there since the Johnstown flood. I took pictures but I won't be able to upload them until they get home.
I stopped at a Shoney's for breakfast, and the buffet was something to behold. They have scrambled eggs and cheese sauce that you can just ladle right on top of it. It's a good thing I don't live here. I was going to hit Chapel Hill today but there are two small snags. One, apparently all the big record stores in that area have gone out of business, which removes my main reason for visiting. Two, the fourth page of my directions magically didn't print and I just realized it today. I'm in a library getting new ones, and I'll be probably heading for South Carolina afterwards. Maybe I'll stop if I see anything interesting on the way.
Soundtrack for today so far: Toshimara Nakamura and English, Psychic TV. Last night I listened to Soft Machine, Public Enemy, and Crass on the drive through Virginia. By the time I got to the Evens it was rather nice to have something slightly less punishing.
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| Day 2. |
[22 Jun 2009|02:16pm] |
Got into Hagerstown, MD, which is apparently the truck stop capital of the world, at around 10:30 last night. Crashed out at the cheap Motel 6, then got up this morning and went to DC. The morning was fairly cool thanks to a pretty persistent breeze, but that's mostly worn off. I parked the car in a garage and when I got out I found myself a block away from the White House. I haven't seen it up close in about twenty years; it looks much smaller than I can remember. Some lonely protestors shouting against the massacre of Tamil rebels by the Sri Lankan government called out the President's name in vain. As mixed as my feelings have been about Obama's presidency to date, it's much more refreshing to visit the capital when someone who I at least kind of respect is in charge.
Walked over to the Washington Monument but they'd already given out their quota of tickets for the day. Crossed the National Mall and went up the stairs to the Lincoln Memorial, then took the train downtown to search for record stores. I gotta get something to eat and then I hit the road; I plan on being in North Carolina by sundown.
Soundtrack for today: Killing Joke, Wooden Wand and the Vanishing Voice, Henry Cow, Sonny Sharrock, The Mountain Goats David S. Ware, Irving Klaw Trio, Woven Hand.
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| Day 1. |
[21 Jun 2009|02:25pm] |
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Well, this first day won't be too exciting. But seeing as I had to drive down through New Jersey anyway, there was no way I could resist stopping at the Princeton Record Exchange, probably the best record store in NJ. They always have stuff hella cheaper than you'll find in NY. I haven't gone in yet but I'll report back if I find anything good. New Jersey is the same as always; quasi-post-apocalyptic industrial landscape with beautiful, falsely alluring plumes of white smoke billowing out of smokestacks along the highway and strangely silent jets flying over Newark. I'm in the Princeton library right now, and they have a dollar used copy of Gilgamesh which I might just grab, as it's something I should have read a long time ago. Accompanying me so far on this leg of the trip has been Harvey Milk (quirky doom-metal band with rather comical vocals) and Hank Williams, who could sing legal briefs and make them sound good. After this, it's on to Hagerstown, Maryland to spend the night, and then DC tomorrow.
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