Day 20 -- WI, IL, IN, MI

Canton, Michigan. At 7:27PM I arrived home after 20 days on the road. I visited 15 states -- Montana and North Dakoda for the first time -- covering 6243 miles, using 205 gallons of gas, spending 88+ hours driving and $2600. And loving (almost) every minute of it.

Today was my first cloudy day of the entire trip -- and I swear that I wasn't two miles inside the Mihcigan line and it started raining. And it rained all the rest of the way home.

Thanks for your time and attention.

Home again. Home agin. Jig-a-dee Jig.

Day 19 -- SD, MN, WI

Since Badlands Nat'l Park was three or four feet from my motel, I had to drive through it before I started making serious tracks for home. It was very spectacular and the cool and sunny weather was perfect. Its very accessible too, since you just drive through it.



Once I left Badlands, I saw some really tacky spots to stop including the big statue of a prairie dog that Annie mentioned. No picture, sorry. Next stop was going to be LaCrosse, Wisconsin. So it was AM radio or Sue Grafton's S is for Silence. About thirty seconds into the book I realized that I have listened to it before and the reader was annoying; but what ya gonna do? Back to radio. I glommed onto NPR and listened to some intelligent sports conversation and a review of Elton John's concert in Sioux Falls. Actually it was interesting. Then a flipped to some guy talking politics that seemed pretty level headed albeit conservative. I kept listening to this guy, who had a female co-host, and he sounded reasonable. He started taking calls and the callers called him Bill. I thought who is this? It can't be that Bill -- the shithead from television. Sure enough it was Bill Fucking O'Rielly(sp?)! Forgive me, Rob. Once I figured that out I had to stop listening. How could the obnoxious cretin from Fox News but this reasonable guy? His voice sounded mellow. Just to prove I'm a hypocrite, I turned him off just because he a conservative.



It felt like forever to get to Sioux Falls and, silly me, I expected to cross the Mississippi there, Oops, missed it by one state. I ate at Al's Oasis. How's it sound? It was fine. So far my streak is in tack; no fast food on the entire trip; and no fries. I planned to wimp out at Albert Lea, Minnesota but no Best Western so I went on to La Crosse. I did cross the Mississippi, of course, but it was dark so I was focused on stating in the white lines.



Stranger encounters were limited to a couple "Hi, how are ya's" in Badlands.



Tomorrow night I sleep in my own bed. Can you tell I'm tired?

Day 18 -- CO, SD

As always I was incredibly comfortable and well treated at Jerry and Cheryl's and Lindsay even gave up her bedroom to me -- she got the air mattress. I left Jerry and Cheryl's early this morning and was in Wyoming in no time. After a few miles on the interstate I got off on two lane federal highways. The highways are so uncongested, smooth and straight (and unpatrolled) that I set the cruise on 80 mph and burned up the road for hours. Someone told me recently that the winds in Wyoming blow constantly and if today was typical, he was right. Really strong crosswinds. I was so glad to be in a low slung aerodynamic car because the wind didn't bother my driving at all. The first word that popped into my head while I was cruising was desolate. Frankly I was a bit nervous about breaking down in the middle of nowhere. Not that there was any reason to break down; it was just kind of scary.


A couple hours into the drive I finished my sixth audio book and that was it. My MP3 was in the trunk, so AM radio was my next choice. The book I finished was Paranoia by Someone Or Other. I have listened to it before and it's mildly entertaining but as with so many popular works of fiction, the characters, particularly the protagonist behaves irrationally. Like the young damsel in horror films When youwant to say "Don't go in there!" But on AM radio you get a real treat; anytime you use the autoscan to find the best signals, whether you're in Utah, Idaho, Montana, Colorado or South Dakota, you get Rush Fucking Limbaugh. The moron. I don't care what your political are or how conservative you are, you can't possible be anything but offended by the simple minded shit the comes out of his mouth. Oh yes, all liberals are out to destroy the country and only the brave no nonsense right wing can save us. As Al Fraken would say "Rush Limbaugh is a big fat liar." Fortunately I found an ESPN Radio station and listened to it -- speaking of simple minded shit! But it's innocuous and I enjoy it. I can scream you're an idiot at the radio -- with Limbaugh I just get nauseous.



I don't think I did anything really stupid today -- let's change stupid to absent minded. And the stranger encounter is zero as usual.

I drove from J and C's house to Custer, SD with almost no breaks -- nothing to eat but a cereal bar. Then wolfed down some lunch and drove to Mt. Rushmore. Not a good idea. I had some problems at Rushmore but aside from that the four guys didn't seem to have changed much. However, everything else has. They completely rebuilt the place with a 3 story parking structure and a new viewing terrace and an amphitheatre. On the way I passed Crazy Horse which was different in the you could recognize the face. The rest -- not so much.

So I drove on to Wall, SD and yes, I went to Wall Drug. Biggest collection of useless junk in the USA. I did buy an audio book by Sue Grafton. Tomorrow I think I'll swing through Badlands Nat'l Park and then on to La Crosse, WI.

Day 17 – Berthoud/Longmont, Colorado

Tomorrow the last phase of this trip begins. As I said yesterday, I’m going up through South Dakota and Minnesota on the return trip. It adds about 300 miles to the trip, but what’s another three hundred miles? Since I have been to Mt. Rushmore once about twenty years ago, I will be looking for a way to make this visit different. I’m expecting the same four guys to be carved in stone. I believe I-90 also goes by the monument to Crazy Horse (or is it Sitting Bull?) and that should be quite different than it was back then – which was a big chunk of rock that didn’t look like anything.

Today’s high temperature was about 30 degrees less than yesterday but it was sunny and excellent golfing weather. Both Jerry and I played much better and even though he beat me there was no more than one stroke difference in our scores on any hole. He was pissed because he wanted to break forty, but he still won five bucks from me. When we left the course, I did the unthinkable AGAIN. Yes, I left my car keys in my jacket in the cart at the course. Thankfully I thought of it when we were just a short way from the course, so we went back and there they were. I wonder if anyone should be so absent minded as to leave their car keys in a public place twice on one road trip and also be lucky enough to get them back both times?

We went out to eat at Rock Bottom Brewery and Lindsay waited on us. We had good food and excellent service and I felt stuffed for the first time in two and a half weeks. By the way, I haven’t lost twenty pounds since I left home. Maybe six.

No stranger encounters today – of course the picnic yesterday was at least two days worth of stranger encounters for me. On the trip home I did to increase my interaction with strangers or I won’t have a thing to write about. Once I get on I-90 in Rapid City, I don’t get off of it for 890 miles. That’s a lot of nothing to try to write about.

Day 16 – Berthoud, CO

As promised it was a day of golf, picnicking and watching the Rockies. The weather was gorgeous with bright sun and not a cloud to be seen. Jerry and I played golf with his nephew (in-law) Aaron who was an incredibly nice young man of 25. He is certified as a teaching pro and formerly a scratch golfer. Of course Aaron won, but it’s not like we were playing for money of anything. As long as I have a few good swings that make me look like a real golfer, I can live with my rotten scores. Golf is an amazing game in that it is so difficult yet so widely played. Most duffers like me never quite get the mechanics down and if you do then you have the real mountain to climb -- the mental aspect of the game. I’m sure part of the appeal is playing outside in great looking settings with lots of walking (except for gimps like me) and usually good companionship. Golf is a very social game but in my case, I love to, and often do, play alone. Imagine that – me the social butterfly, alone.

The picnic was for a good friend of Cheryl’s who had watched her kids while Cheryl was a working single mom. Of course, I knew only the people I came with and I’m not what you would like a big small talker. (Is that an oxymoron?) But thirty seconds after the introductions, Jerry and I were talking with Bob (I asked both Cheryl and Lindsay to explain who everyone was to me, but I forget who Bob is). Bob went down in my uninterrupted-monologue-by-a-stranger hall of fame. Once he learned I was from Michigan he was off to the races since he was a former Michigander. We covered a lot of ground with some transitions that were to hard for me to follow. A lot of discussion (well, talking by Bob) was about fishing which is one of my true areas of expertise. I know Jerry was chortling to himself because he knew I didn’t have a fucking clue what Bob was saying. But I used my best phony listening skills and Bob was a very nice guy.

The unbeatable uninterrupted-monologue-in-response-to-a-simple-question goes to a former colleague of mine. My question to him was “How old are your kids?” The 25 minute response began with “That’s a really interesting thing.” Huh? How about just a simple “six and nine” or “ten and thirteen”? His kids were adopted and he literally told me everything about them and I didn’t hear what the ages were for at least fifteen minutes.

For the rest of the picnic I was mostly a lump in the corner. For some reason, maybe the host’s cat or parrot, I had an enormous allergy attack but I survived. The television was on and I guess the Travel Channel was having a marathon on Las Vegas. It’s always interesting for me to watch people interacting while the TV is in the background. People continually look at the TV but it only registers in background of their mind. But then something strikes them about what they just saw and they comment. OK, I admit it’s not that interesting.

I didn’t go near my car yesterday. Felt good to let Jerry drive. I’ll be on the road Monday morning and I think I’ll going to take one final side trip to Mt. Rushmore and the Black Hills and then come home on I-90. I believe that this calls for a road trip story but this one will require some real creativity to get across the true stupidity of it. It’s another situation where Rob and I were traveling together and Rob was wondering what the hell is my crazy old man doing. It was a long weekend in Washington D.C. trip. Rob and I have done several of these. I decided to leave in the middle of the night so we could get to Washington around noon and have part of a day to look around or rest. I guess it was about 2:00AM as we were speeding down I-280 around Toledo. I saw a pick up and a minivan stopped and blocking both lanes. As I slowed to figure out what the hell this was I saw a guy talking to the people in the minivan through the passenger window and then it pulled away. So the guy flags me down. It’s a kid of about 20 who says he has run out of gas and needs to get to a house where he knows some people. It’s Matt. And Matt’s truck is stopped dead right in the traffic lane of an interstate. Yes, I was a big enough idiot to give Matt, who turns out to be drunk --big surprise -- a ride. His “friends” live in Oregon, Ohio but Matt is a little shaky on exactly where. At the first exit I pull off and say “Here you go.” Well, he “doesn’t have no quarters” so could we drive a little way down the road. Do I kick him out at the gas station like a sane person would? No. We keep going and Matt gets shakier and shakier about where these people live. Matt tells us he “doesn’t have no money” but he has checks from his lawn service business that he could pay us with. He says at least three times “It’s just over that hill.” When we pass a strip mall at has obviously been there for thirty years, he says “Oh, that’s all new since I was here before.” By now I more than a little pissed and Rob has chimed in too. Around this time Matt utters the memorable “Don’t think no bad thoughts about me now.” We find a convenience store that’s open and I tell him to go in and find out where these people live. We drove off and left him there. I believe Rob’s next words were “I can’t believe you picked him up.” Iguess Matt's truck is still sitting on I-280.

During our sightseeing in Washington Rob and I would look at something like the Jefferson Memorial and say “Oh, that’s all new. It wasn’t here last time I was here.”

Day 15 --CO

Day 15—
Today was driving in the mountains day. There really were some spectacular views – probably more majestic and much larger than in Utah. Colorado looks very different than Utah. Southern Utah is red. Colorado is gray and green. Utah has spectacular formations – Colorado has immense panoramas. I believe that I have driven to Colorado from Ohio four times before. The furthest west I drove previously was Vail. This is many, many years ago – I was in my twenties I think. My recollection of driving I-70 through the mountains near Vail and of Vail itself was entirely different from today. Think the roads maight have been inproved in 30 years? That and the fact that it was snowing in Vail then and I could barely keep the car on the road. I pretty sure that I once drive out to Colorado in the middle of summer with Leah, the school counselor at the school where I taught science, in a Mazda GLC. Of course it had no air conditioning so driving through the entire width of Kansas was like being in a blast furnace. I distinctly remember that the air coming in the windows made you hotter but it was too suffocating to close the windows.

What brought this to mind today is that I can remember at least a hundred times wondering what was on the other side of Vail. At that point I had never been any further west, and even though I have since flown to many cites west of Denver later in my career, I still couldn’t picture what was beyond the mountains of Vail. Now I know and it is incredible country that I could drive for quite a while before I became oblivious to it like I am to I-75 -- from Flint to Miami. I think the west suits me.

The drive was very stressful as well as beautiful. Descending the mountain passes at 75 or 80 mph in traffic can be a little overwhelming, especially when there is a little thought in the back of your head that there is something wrong with the steering. How ironic to being driving a car that was engineered for high speed, stable cornering and being worried about the safety of that very thing. For anyone thinking “Stop and get it fixed, dumb ass.” let me reassure you that the car is driving perfectly. And the seats are amazingly comfortable.

I took 22 pictures today. Eighteen were of my feet, the ground and the interior of the car. Four were of the scenery that I was pointing the camera at. Photography is a learning process.

So 4800 miles from home I arrive at the Barcelona’s house. It’s been my good fortune to see (my brother) Jerry and (my sister-in-law) Cheryl four times this year and Christmas will make five times. Jerry has been in Colorado for 30 years and it’s long ago become home to him. It’s quite a contrast going from the solitude of a different motel each night to the comfort of being with family. This is a big change for me from the days of my cynical youth and early middle age when I was too cool for my family.

Aw, yes, Leah the school counselor. We met at Watts Middle School in Centerville, Ohio where I taught 6th, 7th and 8th grade science. I was in my second year at Watts and Leah was new. She was very pretty in an earthy way and had very long straight dark hair. I was fairly recently divorced and Leah and I struck up a very brief, very tumultuous affair. Leah was very smart and had some issues – particularly some big issues with her demagogue father. What I remember most is how she got her first name. Her first name at birth was Janet. I had assumed that she changed it Leah as an act of defiance toward her father. When I asked her how she came to be called Leah she said “I was in the mountains and the wind told me to call myself Leah.” . . . My, oh my!

Tomorrow, golf and a picnic.

Day 14 -- UT, CO

Day 14 -- Two weeks on the road. I like it.

I went online to see what the top ten rated National Parks were. Zion, Bryce Canyon and Yellowstone did not make the list, but guess what. Arches National Park in Moab, Utah did (along with Grand Canyon, Arcadia, Yosemite and others that I can't recall) and it was on my way. It was a nice fast drive to the park and since I had already paid $25 times three, I got an annual pass for $5 more. Who'd a thunk. Me a National Parks guy. Within ten seconds you can see how spectacular this place is. Before I even finished driving up the Great Wall (of the Moab Gorge) I realized this was better than the three other parks by a long shot. It was a gorgeous day with sunshine blazing down and temps between 77 and 81F. Again my hiking was mostly curtailed because I couldn't tolerate exertion in the sunshine, but there was a strong wind in most places that made it feel wonderful. My picture taking and knowledge of my own camera are wanting but I got some decent shots. I guess you'll be the judge of that.

My stranger encounter of the day was an exchange of two sentences. Boy am I an outgoing guy or what? And the Hats were back! and the walking sticks. But that's not all. I found out there are yuppie huggers with a child carrier so elaborate that it folds out into a car seat so little Sue can ride on mommy or daddy's back. I'm not talking about a little papoose carrier. No, this was a full fledged car seat for the back. Amazing. And I couldn't quite figure if it was dad or granddad that was preparing to scale the steps with little Sue in tow. Little Sue was about 3 and dad? was gray -- what the hell, he was lean and ready for the challenge.

I saw a couple signs you don't see everyday. One was "Eagles on Hwy" on I-70. Of course, they get your hopes up but there are no eagles to be found. And in the park I saw "Do Not Enter Area When Flooded." I guess huggers are not deterred by a flood. They keep going unless a daunting warning sign stands in their way.

On to Grand Junction, Colorado. The drive was almost as spectacular as the park. But given the speed at which you can drive, it's best not to be looking off to the side of the road much. Being Best Western's new best customer, I checked in and plugged in. I ate dinner in town at a brew pub that was crowed, noisy and had the ballgame on t.v. My idea of heaven. Then why did I have chicken fried steak? Because it looked really filling? It was.

Next stop Berthoud, Colorado. Home of Jerry and Chery Barcelona.

Day 13 -- UT

Day 13 -- Southern Utah. I made it through the night and morning at the Best Western in St. George, UT with falling down and skinning my knees so I considered the stay a success. Next stop: Bryce Canyon. Although I am am slightly OD'd on national parks, I have been chastised by no less than three people that I must see Bryce Canyon.

The ride to Bryce includes Red Canyon which is very nice and gives you a glimpse of what's to come. The so called Bryce Canyon Amphitheatre is what I would call the canyon. It's pretty spectacular and there are four or five view points that you can easily drive to get great views. I was really looking forward to taking one or two of the easy hikes but at 8000+ feet altitude, I couldn't handle it. Just fifty yards of incline brought my to my knees -- actually to my ass since I don't usually sit down on my knees. I was going to pull one of the famous Barcelona "Fuck this. I'm no pussy." and hike it anyway but sanity prevailed.

I got there at lunch time so I wanted to eat first -- which made the altitude effect all the worse -- so I went to the full service or as I called the full shitty service restaurant. As I waited very impatiently to be served I got that pissed off look I get -- you know, my everyday expression. And when Johnny SmartAss, my waiter, made it around he said one of my favorite things "Be with you in a minute, Boss." Boss? Buddy? Pal? Chief? All equally stupid and obnoxious. So Mr. Grumpy ate his lunch. I was grumpy because when I parked and got out of the car, I took my computer backpack with me and it weighs about 30 pounds. The weight, the sun and standing up after three hours in the car really made me out of breath and weak in the knees. But on the plus side I found a wireless signal in the restaurant -- completely unprotected.

At Bryce Point I encountered a bus load of Germans -- who have been at every national park I visited. Germans I mean. Not that busload of Germans. I wanted to try my lame-assed German on them but I was to standoffish. When my picture taking came to an abrupt halt because of dead batteries, I read that as a signal to depart.

I picked a spot on the map - Salina, Utah - and headed out. I seem to be stuck on Best Western's, so I found one and got a room. While I was registering I noticed an overpowering sweet smell which I assumed was the clerk's perfume. When I went to the room I got a blast of the same almost sickeningly sweet smell. I guess either she cleans the rooms or more likely she sprays herself with the same room freshener that they use after cleaning the rooms. Wonder what it really smells like in here?

I ate at Mom's Cafe in "downtown" Salina. Good old American food in a good old American cafe. Built in 1876. It was very good and I was starved. Be sure to get a scone and put Butter and Honey FLAVORED topping on it. De-lish. Made be think of the town in Paper Moon.

I figured out what the hidden zipper pocket in Columbia shorts is for -- money. At the Oasis, I hit the ATM -- a sure winner -- to get cash. I am sure that I pushed the button for $100 but I got $500. Unfortunately my account was also debited $500. So the hidden zipper pocket safely protects me from dropping a wad. And I am really careful not to flip through hundreds of dollars in front of strangers.

I leave you with this. Why to sportscasters and commentators say "The Alex Rodriguez's of the world. The Tom Brady's of the world." Who are these other Alex Rodriguez's and Tom Brady's? I know who A Rod and Brady are, but who are these other ones "of the world?"

Day 12 -- NV, AZ, UT

Day 12 -- Trying to leave Las Vegas again. I must be getting wiser or something because I went into Tuesday with an accepting attitude that I was going to spend a lot of time waiting at the mercy of others. And of course that's exactly what happened. A very helpful young man named Shawn at the BMW dealer in Henderson noted which warning lights were on and tried to get one of the shaman (service advisers) to squeeze me in. Like trying to get a doctor at a clinic -- and they seem to have that same attitude. After an hour or so, no luck, but Shawn was nice enough to get me a name of a guy at the Las Vegas dealership . who could squeeze me in. Butch was his name and he was very pleasant and courteous, if not ultimately helpful. After another four hours there -- I just accepted the wait without too much frustration -- they could not determine what was wrong with the front end but the warning lights were off and the cruise control worked so I considered it a minor success and was happy to hit the road.

While I was waiting a couple of courtroom shows were on the TV and I couldn't find a way to change the channel. Are these people for real? Of course they just want to be on television. I guess the real question is who voluntarily watches this. I'm not afraid to say that I love People magazine, but reality TV leaves me cold. Our lives are reality or something like it, why do I want to see average (or below average ) assholes on TV?

It does amaze me that it's so hard to get a straight answer from the shaman, again like with medical professionals. What I wanted to know was what was the worst that come happen if there was a wheel bearing making a noise. -- Did I mention that their diagnosis was completely different from the L.A. dealership; and there solution, if I left the car all day Wednesday was too bizarre to understand. -- I just wanted the guy to say something comprehensible like "the wheel will freeze up." or "The wheel will turn to fire and the car will explode." Just something. But no. Just "It'll get real loud." No shit. Should I turn up the volume on the radio?

So Mellow Jim departed for Utah with a nagging urge to loose some money before I left Nevada. And amazingly enough there were massive tacky casinos at the NV/AZ border just waiting to serve my need. My thought was that if they fixed my car, that would be such good luck that I would have to hit the slots and watch the winning flow in. Since they didn't really fix the car, I lost -- ya, that must be the reason. The casino was the Oasis, by the way, and it was light years less creepy than Whiskey Pete's.

Back to the Heart of Dixie I went. Remember the big D on the side of the mountain? About 6 blogs ago. Well Erin, the knower of all facts, knew that southern Utah is nicknamed Dixie. And I am back at the same motel where I fell down and went boom in St. George.

What do you on Wednesday? Bryce Canyon? Grand Canyon? Return to the gaming tables? What's a guy to do.

Day 11 -- CA, NV

Day 11 -- Whiskey Pete's, Primm, NV. Yee haw!

We had a day of puttering around L.A. getting me ready to get back on the road -- and we visited Disney Studios. The high point was when Johnny Depp asked for my autograph. He calls me Oogie, you know. We saw Walt and Roy Disney's offices and met some nice people who are co-workers of Cindy. Got my Mestinon prescription with only minor hassle. And got my car serviced. Aside from the oil change that the car was insisting on -- the car tells you, you don't tell it -- I asked them to check the steering wheel because it was squeaking and do a visual inspection of the front right tire because I had run over a curb and gouged the rim. Mentioning the curb thing was not a smart move. The diagnosis was that I had damaged the rack and pinon steering (whatever that is) and two of the tires were in need of replacement. Cost (because these were not warranty items; see stupid comment about running over curb) $3,000. I declined their generous offer and picked it up with the regular service only.

To avoid L.A. rush hours, I left P and C's house around 7:00pm and headed for Whiskey Pete's. Yee haw! On the road again; but oops! Less than ten miles into the return trip multiple warning lights come on -- low tire pressure, some shit about the suspension and something else. Two reactions: one is complete depression; Now I have to go fuck around with this dealer and say "what did you do to my car?" and waste a whole day on car repair; and two, this has happened before and it's not the catastrophe that it appears to be. I eventually pulled over and checked that the tires had air in them. They were fine. Sound obvious, but I have the so called run-flat tires, meaning if they go flat you can continue to drive for 50 miles to a repair shop. There's no spare tire. I know what happens if you drive too much on one and it cost me $400 to find out.

One thing about living for sixty years is that you have had many different experiences and you remember what happens as a result and how things played out. So when my car malfunctioned on the freeway I immediately thought not about what was wrong but about what it was going to mean to my trip. I felt sick not because I was scared or confused or felt out of control. Just the opposite. This was either going to be nothing or it was going to be a big pain in the ass interruption to my trip. I could picture every step of the process and I didn't want to deal with it. Same thing went through my mind when I fell on the stirs in Pocatello. -- Didn't tell you about that, did I? -- As I was hitting the concrete I was not scared about how I might be injured. If anything I was disappointed that it might interfere with the trip. I have fallen and hurt myself badly before. I have lain on the concrete and had people hovering around me while and ambulance came for me. I knew how it might play out and I was pissed. OK, OK. I was scared shitless that my pacemaker would fail! -- I've been "mostly dead" as they say in the Princess Bride, and it wasn't fun or spiritually uplifting.

Back in the car: After debating whether or not to turn around, I continued to Primm, Nevada. An interesting little non-town. It's on the CA/NV border and consists of several trashy casinos and nothing else -- well unless you call McDonald's and gas stations something else. So I am on the 12th floor in the middle of nowhere in a $32 room that looks and smells it. Not that it's a dump; just feels grungy, you know. I'll do my best to have a stranger encounter at Whiskey Pete's so I can amuse you.

Tuesday I head for Desert BMW of Henderson. And then after a brief stay, I hope, on to Bryce Canyon and parts unknown.

Day 10 -- CA

Day 10 -- Van Nuys, California. Sunday was really a day of rest. Phil and Cindy and I just hung out and talked and ate. A perfect day actually. They made delicious pasta for dinner with ham, asparagus, tomatoes, spices and such. We talked about all the social ills of the country and other life altering subjects.
My stranger encounter of the day was a new one for a Midwesterner. A young Mexican boy (I presume) came up to Phil and me outside of CVS and literally pleaded – you know, hands in prayer position – for help, i.e. money. Something about being deserted by his buddies and needing bus fare. What was new was he held his driver’s license out in front of him while he pleaded, I guess to show he was legal. In any event, hard hearted Jim declined to help (that’s twice this trip) and we drove off. Now I could spin off into the underlying social and cultural implications of this encounter, but why?
I did have a couple of minor anxiety attacks which does not happen very frequently these days. I have had panic attacks for so long that I can usually manage them to the point (a) those around me have no idea it’s happening and (b) I can talk myself through it so it passes quickly. Plus I always have Atavin with me and that will clam most of them. I could go on at length describing what it’s like for me to live with panic disorder, but it’s not that interesting in a journal about a journey. Yes, I know it’s part of the "journey of life" (ugh!!) but let’s leave that for another time.
Let’s try this journey. Take your mind to the deepest darkest jungle of Africa. It’s over 100F and the sun is beating down relentlessly on the tops of the trees. Steam is rising from the jungle floor. Are you picturing it? There is a small watering hole in a little clearing in the trees. The sun is beating down . . . Nothing is moving . . . Everything is perfectly still . . . In the middle of the watering hole two hippos are cooling themselves in the water with only their heads above the surface. Everything is perfectly still. Nothing has moved in eons. There is a little dead bird hanging from the ear of one of the hippos. That’s how still it is. Slowly one hippo turns to the other and say "You know Fred, I just can’t get it through my head that it’s Thursday."

More to come.