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Tuesday March
16
Reluctantly awakening at around 10am (I hate those
stupid "check-out-by-11am" policies), I shuffled off to the bathroom to
take a shower and dispose of the remaining beer left in my system (no, I
didn't do both at the same time... I have a little bit of class). While the inside of
my mouth felt vaguely like I'd been licking the dirty underside of a
refrigerator, I didn't have any headache or hangover so apparently I'll
need to drink more next time (it only seems proper to get really wasted
when visiting in New Orleans). After showering and brushing that
wonderful taste out of my mouth, I went back to the room to pack my stuff.
My only other roommate was still asleep, just like he had been every other
time I'd been in the room. If it weren't for the snoring I would
have guessed I was sharing the room with a dead person (though perhaps
that would have smelled better; I think he'd been wearing the same
pair of socks since New Years).
Checking out of the hostel, I tried to find the
freeway but ended up missing the exit. It was then I learned that
making a U-turn (or even a left turn) isn't
easy in this part of the city between all the traffic, one way streets,
and lack of places to turn around. Maybe there's some secret method
the locals use to get around in this area of town during heavy traffic
(driving over road medians, using teleportation machines, praying to
obscure Elder Gods...). Still, I eventually escaped the New Orleans'
quagmire of a road system and continued east on I-10. Driving issues
notwithstanding, I really liked New Orleans.... one day isn't really
enough time to spend there, and hopefully next time I can spend a few days
and convince some friends to come along too.
Just short of the Louisiana/Mississippi border, I
exited the interstate with the intention of trying more of the local
food. This time I found a little place in some random little strip
mall that served gumbo, cajun seafood, and po'boy sandwiches. It was
actually kind of a combination deli/seafood-store/corner-market which
seemed more suited for take-out even though they had a few tables for
eating in. I was feeling particularly brave (or foolish) though, so
I went in and ordered a large fried oyster and shrimp po-boy sandwich and
a cup of gumbo. Five minutes later they gave me a cup of gumbo and a
huge sandwich bigger than my shoe..... and I can say that whatever this
place lacked in appearance and/or atmosphere sure as hell made up for it
with good food and lots of it. A sandwich filled with fried seafood
sounds bizarre, but somehow the whole thing works (the gumbo was pretty
decent too). Now about halfway through my meal, a couple of girls
bought something at the seafood counter and sat down at the table next to
me. About a minute later some really loud slurping/sucking sounds
from their table grabbed my attention; looking over, I saw them scarfing
down a pile of crawfish like two starving otters, sucking the things right
out of the shells one by one in quick succession. Later I found out
that this really is the way you're supposed to eat these things, by
sucking them out of their shells through the head, but I still found it a
mildly disturbing spectacle in both the visual and auditory sense.
Part of what grosses me out about it is the fact that crawfish kind of
look like large bugs; I keep thinking back to the dinner scene in "Indiana
Jones and the Temple of Doom" where one of the maharaja's dinner guests is
shown slurping a large beetle's insides from its shell. It's
kind of a silly hang-up, but that whole association just ruins it for
me.... and maybe now with that movie reference I've just ruined crawfish
for someone else out there too. You're welcome.
Despite the sandwich's immense size (and the
disturbing feeding frenzy going on next to me), I somehow managed to
finish the entire sandwich. Hitting the road, it occurred to me that
the idea of stuffing oneself with a huge sandwich full of fried seafood
along with some spicy gumbo and then going for a long drive probably
wasn't the wisest plan. Turned out though there were no
gastrointestinal problems from the meal; I guess whoever invented the
seafood po'boys really knew what they were doing. Leaving Louisiana,
I drove through Mississippi, my only stop being at a rest area. I
figured I'd take the more leisurely route on the way back.
Driving through Mississippi, the only thing of interest I noticed was a
billboard advertisement for a "Bible Factory Outlet". Now does this
seem unusual to anyone else? How many bibles and/or religious
supplies does your average person need to where such a store is
necessary? Is every fourth person in Mississippi a preacher
or minister? Friggin' absurd.
The drive through Alabama was uneventful as well; I
made a couple stops to get out and stretch and take pictures but not much
else (again, I figured I'd spend more time wandering around on the way
back). Entering Florida, I took the coastal route leading to Panama
City and beyond. The beaches and scenery were very nice and so I
generally took my time, stopping at a couple beaches and other spots
along the road (some of those beaches have the whitest sand I've ever
seen). Just after sunset I arrived in Panama City,
which apparently is a popular spot for the spring break crowd so
there was quite a bit going on. After eating an over-priced burger
at some random restaurant, I took the opportunity to have my picture taken
in the parking lot with Captain Morgan himself, who so nobly
provides the rum which makes public female toplessness
during spring break possible:
|
The secret word for today is
"booze". |
|
Already having had my fill of booze and obnoxious
spring break students, I continued towards Orlando. Shortly before
midnight while driving through a small town, I found myself being pulled
over by FOUR COP CARS, and after pulling into an empty parking lot they
proceeded to block me in on all sides with their cars and shine all their
searchlights at my car. Being in a place with no one else around
(i.e. no witnesses) and being slightly paranoid by
nature, a small part of me couldn't help but begin estimating
the odds that I was going to be arrested, dragged out of the car and
clubbed like a baby seal, or both. Even the fact that I was pretty
sure I wasn't speeding or anything didn't reassure me
much. After an unnecessarily long question and answer
session by one of the cops (mostly about weapons, drugs, and where
I'm going and why), the nosy prick finally got to the 'reason' why he
stopped me. You know those little lights on some cars that
illuminate the rear license plate? Well apparently one of the lights
wasn't working. Yup, apparently in backwater Florida towns this
is not only a reason to pull someone over but also requires at least four police cars to surround their car,
because apparently that must mean they're bank robbers and cop
killers. Heaven forbid, if one of those lights
aren't working, someone just might need to
use a flashlight or headlights to see the plate! After getting
out and looking at the license plate light, I got up
the courage to ask why they used four cars to pull me over
and block me in for a non-functioning license plate
light. He avoided the question with some remark about how
two of the cops weren't local and were from another town,
which to this day still confuses the hell out of me (not only did it
not answer my question, but it makes me wonder what cops from different
jurisdictions are all doing hanging out in one place in the middle of the
night). I've been pulled over by cops for bullshit reasons
before, like being clocked going 2mph over the limit on the highway or
because they thought I may be drunk since my speed was not perfectly
constant over a 3 minute period (the fact I didn't have cruise control
must not occur to some I guess), and so I've always found the cop
habit of looking for or making up questionable excuses to stop random
people a little too "Gestapo" for my tastes. But as messed up
as their "reasons" were, at least those previous cops were civil and
didn't use such obviously excessive intimidation tactics. So
personally, I think these guys saw my Alaska license plate just
fine and wanted to have a chuckle and play a game of "Let's fuck with the
Yankee" (makes me honestly wonder as to what kind of treatment
out-of-town minorities get). So for future reference, I want
everyone to know that at least four of the cops in or near the
general area of Williston,Florida are a bunch of
jerk-offs on a power-trip who get their kicks harassing visitors from
out-of-state. Way to go on perpetuating that southern redneck
asshole cop stereotype guys!
Fuckers.
Wednesday March
17
After spending the night in a rest area well away from
a particular town I will never visit again, I headed down to Orlando to
visit my friend Nichole for a couple days. After reaching her folks'
place (where she was staying for spring break), we prepared to set out and
spend part of the day at Disneyworld. We avoided the hideously
expensive entrance fees by using Nichole's connections in the Disney
criminal underworld to obtain free passes WAHAHAHA!!! Ok, well
actually her dad works there and got us the passes. But I still like
to think there's a criminal underworld at Disney.... selling bootleg mouse
ears and guiding important people through secret passages that get them
straight to the front of the lines....
Having only been here once (and that was 19 years ago)
I expected things to have changed a lot. But despite some small
differences everything seemed to be much the same, except that it looked
even more crowded than it did last time. And that made it really
difficult to go on rides, which was my main reason for wanting to go
there (and their pass system where you arrange to go back at a
designated time instead of waiting in line was not working either).
Still, it was kinda cool seeing all that stuff again, and I did get to go
on their new ride, Mission Space. I rather enjoyed it, though given
all the health warnings they bombard you with beforehand, I expected
something more intense. But then I am a true fan
of amusement rides, and I'm always searching for the ultimate in
throw-up rides. And before I forget, I'd like to say one
thing. Now apparently it's easy to get burned out on the whole
Disney experience when you've been exposed to it for so long, so I would
like to express my appreciation to Nichole for humoring me and putting up
with the whole Disney experience yet again =)
| Here's a shot of the Epcott Center shortly
before we left. |
|
|
The subject here, "Nichole", suffers from a chronic and
irrational fear of the photographic process.
Recommended treatment includes tens of thousands
of dollars in therapy, where we hope to prove that it's
somehow all her parents' fault. |
|
We actually didn't stay longer than four or five
hours, as it was St. Patrick's Day and there were other potentially more
interesting things to do. Before going to downtown Orlando, we
went back to her folk's place to wait for her cousin to meet up with
us. It was during our stopover that I met Nichole's mother
for the first time, and I've never seen someone so smothering and
overprotective of their grown son/daughter (a common trait with many
Spanish mothers I'm told). It was actually kind of funny in an odd
way. Probably not as amusing when it's your own mother doing it,
but hey it's damn funny to me. At the same time though her
mom was cool and very nice, so you really can't help but like her.
Downtown Orlando on St. Patrick's Day was pretty
active. A bit too much so.... just about every bar and club was
totally packed, and the drinks were overpriced. Still, it was
worth getting to see a bit of a new city, and there was certainly no
shortage of pretty women walking around wearing next to
nothing. We eventually moved to a sports bar in a different
part of town which was more relaxed and comfortable. It was there
that I witnessed a St. Patty's Day miracle.... Nichole drinking
alcohol! Perhaps it was the St. Patrick's Day vibe
activating some of her Irish genes, for she's the ultimate "good
girl" and I've never heard of her ever drinking. Perhaps her
cousin and/or myself are bad influences on her, and we've started her on a
long downhill slide to where she'll be guzzling whiskey in between taking
hits off the bong. And that will be on a work day! ;-)
Thursday March
18
This day we drove east to Kennedy Space Center.
In order to leave, it was necessary to spend about twenty minutes assuring
her mom that we would drive safely, not speed, wear seat
belts, beware of crazy drivers, protect ourselves from West Nile
mosquitoes, wear bulletproof vests and crash helmets, watch out for
the mutant man-eating alligators... (well you get the
picture).
Kennedy Space Center was great, and in most ways was
much more interesting than the Johnson Space Center near Houston. We
easily managed to kill several hours here doing the tours and seeing
everything (and again I'd like to thank Nichole for putting up with yet
another activity she's already done to death).
| Here's the Apollo Lunar Module (or rather a
replica of one). |
|
|
Here is the Saturn 5 rocket, which when fully
assembled with payload was 363 feet long, with the first
stage providing more than 7,500,000 pounds of thrust at
lift off. Pretty much the space vehicle equivalent of a
monster truck. |
|
| <Insert random phallic joke
here> |
|
|
In a remarkable display of mature and
subdued behavior, Nichole and I play 'Dueling
Cameras'.
I love digital cameras. You can mess
around all day with it without wasting any expensive
film. Without my digital camera I never would have tried to
photograph myself sneezing (yes I was very bored, and no it did not
work.... I couldn't hold the camera steady enough) |
|
| This is the first wild alligator that I came
across on my trip. This small guy was swimming down in a pond
area near the astronauts memorial. From what I've heard, some
gators (like this one) aren't that shy about living near
people. |
|
| This turtle swimming through the grasses and
reeds was only about 20 feet away from the aforementioned
alligator. From this I gather that gators
often don't bother trying to eat turtles. Or this is just
a REALLY dumb turtle. |
|
| Next to the parking lot we spotted yet another
wild critter, this time an armadillo (Kennedy Space Center is
starting to look more and more like a zoo). This picture was
taken while the fearsome slavering beast charged us, forcing us
to flee back to the car and roll up all the windows. And
for the record I did not scream like a little girl.... that was
merely my manly battle cry. Ignore anything Nichole
says. |
|
Friday March
19
Once again it was time to move on, as Spring
Break was in its last few days and it's a long way back to Tucson.
It was a shame I didn't have more time available, as Florida seemed to be
a pretty neat place. Granted, I have yet to experience a summer
there, but I have to say I like it so far. Many thanks to Nichole
and her folks for putting me up for a couple days!
Leaving Orlando, I make my way back to Interstate 75
and head north towards Georgia. One interesting thing I
noticed is the large number of billboards advertising for "Adult"
shops and entertainment along the highway, many which advertise
special discounts/incentives for truckers. This must be one of those
fringe benefits of having a commercial trucker's license. For some
reason these billboards reminded me of the song from The
Bloodhound Gang, "The Lap Dance is Always Better When the Stripper is
Crying".
Shortly after crossing the state line into Georgia, I
stopped at a roadside town to stretch out and get gas. Nearby I
noticed a used bookstore, so I stopped in to pick up a few books (as
I'd already read the one I brought with me). I was very disappointed
to find there was hardly any science fiction books, and not even much
in the way of standard fiction or interesting non-fiction. What they
did have was a buttload of books on Christianity, Jesus, angels, etc.....
all of which took up more than half the store. The Bible Belt
strikes again.
I cut west on one of the smaller highways (Highway 84
I believe) so I could see a little of rural Georgia. And I
discovered that many of these small towns fit the rural southern
stereotype.... big plantation style houses, lots of trees and greenery,
and old majestic buildings painted white. Very picturesque and
scenic.
I stopped for dinner at some small town restaurant
near the Georgia/Alabama border and ordered some fried chicken (I figured
I had to experience some genuine southern fried chicken). They did
have a seafood buffet going on at that time, but some wise inner voice
counseled me against it; I had already taken my chances with an oyster and
shrimp po-boy in Louisiana and didn't want to tempt fate again. Yet
there were a fair number of locals who dared to take on the buffet, the
majority of them very overweight. And while that's hardly an unusual
sight at a buffet restaurant, I'd been seeing a rather high percentage of
really obese people during my vacation in the South. Now of
course there are those people have physical conditions that predispose
them to this and make it very difficult to lose weight, but I don't think
that applies to the majority of the overweight people I've been
seeing in this part of the country. No doubt it's at least due
in part to the food here, for example the fried chicken I
ordered. It was very good and very greasy and probably very bad for
me. Still, even with my ability to eat impressive amounts of food I
still have a general idea when to stop eating so I don't bloat
up like a balloon. I don't want to be mean here, but come
on.... some people just need to use some simple common
sense. Eating fried food for every meal and hitting buffets
regularly equals "huge ass". If nothing else, the
South seems like one of the worse possible places to be an really
overweight person, it being hot and humid enough to make
one's fingernails sweat.
Moving across the state line into Alabama, I cut
northwest in the direction of Montgomery. The sun set not long after
I crossed the state line, so I didn't see much of Alabama's scenery.
There was one interesting experience that night though, such as being
offered drugs two times in as many minutes while getting gas in the
Montgomery area. I haven't been approached by dealers ever
since I had my long hair cut short two years ago (news
flash people... long hair does not make one
a pothead), so it caught me off guard at first. I guess I
was just lucky enough to stop for gas in a questionable part of
town, and maybe me being the only
white guy in what was an
apparently sketchy neighborhood meant to them that I must
be looking to score weed or more. For all I know that
could normally be a good assumption around here....
but still, if I were a dealer I wouldn't look at a complete
stranger with a crappy car with out of state plates who's cleaning bug
guts from the windshield while pumping gas and then think to myself,
"gee, this is a guy I should try to sell weed to". As far
as drug dealers go, these guys must be in the special-ed
class.
Saturday March
20th
Continuing west on I-20 from the Alabama rest stop
where I slept overnight, I had the hardest time finding a breakfast
restaurant that didn't have a long line (why the hell don't Waffle
House restaurants make their buildings bigger with more
seats?). I eventually found a truck stop diner with available
seating and received an unimpressive breakfast, which was a real
letdown after all the good food I've been having during this trip. I
guess the fact that it wasn't overly crowded like the rest should have
been a clue.
I didn't make many stops on my way through
Mississippi. For some reason I didn't feel as though there was much
to see there, at least not in this part of the state. Or perhaps I
was just feeling irked about the crappy breakfast I had
there. I did stop briefly in Vicksburg, though, at a
little park that overlooks the Mississippi River...
| Here's a shot of a tug pushing some cargo
down the river. I never realized the Mississippi was quite so
muddy and brown in appearance. In front you can see my silver
POS car.... you know, from this distance and angle my car actually
looks somewhat presentable. |
|
|
Another shot of the river, this one showing the
bridge spanning the river. I think the big riverboat to the
left might be some sort of casino, but I didn't bother to
check. It seemed a little too touristy for my
liking. |
|
Afterwards I continued on through Louisiana, a
place which I've begun developing some small fondness for. One of
the places I stopped at in Louisiana was Shrevesport, where I walked
around for a bit and grabbed a late lunch at a buffet restaurant in one of
the casinos. They had a number of local dishes available there and
they were all pretty good, which helped make up for the truck stop
breakfast I had earlier. Again I couldn't help but notice a very
large number of extremely overweight people at the
buffet. Again, I don't want to give these people a hard time
(especially when they're eating), and they have the right to live however
they like. But still, it surprises me to see it so
prevalent. Of course with all the military action our
country is involved in, maybe in the near future it'll turn out
that being healthy and fit will decrease one's life expectancy.
But unless North Korea goes apeshit or Bush does something extremely
stupid, a draft seems very unlikely. Hmm, actually that
statement is not terribly reassuring.
I also took a look in the actual gambling area of the
casino, and I was amazed at how small it was (I think Las Vegas has jaded
me somewhat). Afterwards, I walked around that part of Shrevesport a
little, but for whatever reason it seemed pretty much dead.
Maybe all the fun people were elsewhere.
Continuing on, I stopped at a rest area on the
Texas/Lousiana border to watch the sunset and take some
pictures.
|
I'm probably going to come off as wonderfully
ignorant, but what kind of trees are these? Something makes me
want to say cherry blossom, but I've never seen this kind of tree
before so that's just a complete guess. But don't they look
like some kind of alien vegetation you'd see on the set of an
original Star Trek episode? |
|
Seeing as it was growing dark I figured I may as
well drive along the interstate for the rest of the night (I
also didn't feel like having a repeat of the redneck cop incident).
Shortly after passing through Dallas, I found myself driving into a really
wicked and intense thunderstorm. I was kind of looking
forward to seeing some lightning, but about ten minutes later I came upon
the biggest downpour of rain I'd ever experienced. It got so bad
that most of the cars on the road were only going about
20mph. The sheer intensity of it actually made
it a really cool experience in an odd sort of way. That quickly
changed when I pulled off to a service station to get gas, though.
Pulling into the gas station, I saw that every pump had a car parked
next to it. None of them were getting gas or anything.... they were
just parked there so their cars could be under the roof over the pumps and
not get rained on. Now if there were golf-ball sized chunks of hail
coming down, I could understand wanting to get your car under
cover. BUT THIS IS JUST WATER!!! A lot of rain,
yes.... but it's still ONLY WATER!!! Unless you have water flowing
up to your car door, liquid water isn't going to damage a parked
car. But instead of finding a regular parking spot, every one of
these dumbfucks decides to block every available gas
pump because they don't want to get their cars wet
. I honked and flashed my headlights for at least
two minutes, and not a single one of these pigfuckers budged (I
was pissed.... can you tell?). And the truly
absurd thing is that three out of four of these jerks were
in big SUV's and trucks.... you know, the same vehicles they
show in those stupid car commercials travelling down rough mountain
roads and crap. I bet these are the same kind of morons who
slow down to 0.3 miles per hour when going over a speed bump.
Come on, whatever happened to that good old tough rugged Texan spirit that
Texans like to brag about? I hope these people don't
represent a fair cross-section of people in this state, because if they
do, then from now on your state's nickname should
be changed from "The Lone Star State" to "The Wussy
State". And perhaps we could change your state motto to "Oh No,
I Chipped a Nail!", or maybe even "Not in the Face!". But
if that's not the case and these people do not represent the average
Texan, then I encourage the rest of you Texans to round up
this collection of inconsiderate pansies and beat each of
them with a large sock full of pennies until they find the proper
perspective. Better do it soon... they're making your state
look bad.
Eventually I managed to find another place with an
available pump, a pump which just happened to not be covered by any sort
of roof (gee, what a coincidence). After filling up
and getting a soda, the rain had started to let up (so naturally, those
dickheads didn't start leaving the station until AFTER I filled my tank
while standing in the rain). Thankfully the rest of that night's
drive was much better.... minimal rain, a very impressive lightning
display, and no idiots. I also finished listening to the audiobook
"21 Dog Years at Amazon.com" by Mike Daisy. Pretty amusing stuff....
basically the account of an admitted underachiever who, enticed by the
promise of internet riches, finds work as an Amazon.com customer
service representative and gets suckered by the quasi-cultish
corporate culture that existed there at the time. Anyone
who's an incompetent slacker at their job and/or happens to work
at a crappy job would probably get a real kick out of it.
Sunday, March
21st
After taking a long snooze at a rest stop somewhere
west of Abilene, I left the interstate and headed northwest towards the
Texas/New Mexico border. I made yet another unfortunate breakfast
choice in the town of Hobbs, New Mexico, choosing a restaurant advertising
a breakfast buffet. I figured with a buffet there would at least be
some decent food to pick and choose from. WRONG! In retrospect
I wish I took the opportunity to look at the buffet before being
seated, because that was the saddest looking buffet I'd seen in long
while. I don't know how one manages to screw up scrambled eggs,
hashbrowns, and pancakes, but they did it. I tried my best to
make do with some not-too-stale cinnamon rolls, bacon, and the few sad
pieces of fruit that were available. And then there was the
people. Now occasionally one hears the persistent stereotype of many
Southerners being grubby, unattractive, scary-looking people with lots of
missing teeth. But I really didn't see much of that in the South....
mostly just regular-looking people (even if some were more overweight than
normal). This restaurant in Hobbs, however.... most of the people
here fit that description to an uncanny degree. I felt like I
stumbled on the supporting cast of "Deliverance" taking a breakfast break
between takes. The lesson here is threefold: 1) whenever possible
inspect the buffet before the waitress seats you, 2) never let me pick the
restaurant for breakfast, and 3) stereotypes of Southerners being
ugly dirty rednecks is bad, since those kind of freaks actually
live in eastern New Mexico ;^)
Next I travelled up highways 529 and 82 towards
Alamagordo, and then down highway 70 to Las Cruces and Interstate
10. There was some pretty nice scenery along the way going through
Lincoln National Forest, but otherwise it was a pretty typical
drive. I did pass by the White Sands area, but on account of it
being late afternoon on Sunday it didn't seem likely that the
visitor's center was open, so I kept on driving. While filling
up my gas tank in Deming, N.M., I apparently missed the
opportunity to get about $20 in free gas. Seems that sometime after
I swiped my card and started pumping gas, the computer system crashed and
my card was never charged. After I filled my tank, I noticed the gas
pump computer display became unresponsive and refused to print out my
receipt, so I went inside to get a receipt from the cashier. He told
me that the computer crashed and that since it didn't show my transaction
went through I would need to wait for it to go back online to run my card
through again. Apparently he didn't even know I had been
getting gas at the time until I came in, so if I hadn't bothered
to go inside for my receipt, the transaction would have been
lost through no fault of my own. But to tell the truth, even
though I'm close to dirt poor I didn't really mind that much missing
out on the chance to get some free gas (I probably would have paid even if
I knew I could have left.... I'm such a goober). What really
irritated me was having to wait 25 minutes for the gas station people to
get their act together. But I did manage to use that time to get
cherry-dipped ice cream cone at a nearby Dairy Queen, which is about 9th
or 10th on my list of all-time favorite desserts. So it wasn't a
total loss.
After leaving Deming, the desire to just get home
pretty much superceded any desire for further sightseeing, so I pretty
much just drove the rest of the way to Tucson without
stopping. The time pretty much flew by, however, with the
help of a number of George Carlin comedy MP3's I got from Josh about a
week ago. In fact I recommend comedy CD's/MP3's to anyone out
there who wants to do any extensive night driving.... it
does wonders for both keeping one awake and alert and making the time
fly by. You can also try playing music that's good to sing to, but
that only really works if you're alone. Otherwise you're going to be
stuck in the car with a bad singer and will pray for death. Or
perhaps you'll turn out to be the bad singer, and thus will get hit
repeatedly by your passengers until you stop. Anyhow, that's the end of
my trip. You can go back to viewing porn now.
Got Something to Say? Well
Then Let Me Have It... |
Random Musings