Tuesday, August 29, 2006

A Record of My Travels.

I borrowed this from Sharon, who borrowed it from Sassy, who borrow it from....heck, I don't know. But I think it is cool, so I am adding it to my blog.

create your own

SEE?? I am 50% "there".

Actually, I cannot say that I was truly in a "state" of consciousness in each of these wonderful areas of the United States. Most of the time I was dreaming under a blanket. My parents wanted our family to "See America First". All we were lacking was the Chevy and my eyelids open.

My father was very much into the labor union at his company. He often held a position which required him to be wheresoever the next convention was taking place. The fact of his statis allowed us to tag along. Sometimes it was the whole family. Most times my brother was the fortunate missing person. We had fun, (don't get me wrong), but often the fun was had by one person....my dad. For one thing, he had a personal agenda, one we adhered to like clockwork.

The problem with my father and traveling by car seemed to fall under the universal male testosterone umbrella known as....... the control factor. He got us up before dawn (usually to beat the heat) and then drove like a bat out of Hades to get from point A to point B in 'X' amount of time. He kept very good written records. He was into his groove. He would stop for nothing. I mean NOTHING. My sister could often be seen "mooning" next to our car in all the above states to relieve her bladder. My father didn't want to make an official stop to adjust time for even that basic a need. She refused to comply after she reached.......... oh, I'd say about the age of eight.

I can remember my mother seeing something of interest (probably educational at that) and hearing her call out...

"Dale, Daaaaale......there was a marker.....you just passed.....honey, HONEY!!"

All going to literally deaf ears. He was on a mission if you will. Wind whistling mission. We saw America first......as fast as possible.

So, the upshot is, I can say with all honesty, my body was in each of these states, but my mind was in la~la land.

Motion makes me sleepy.

And most of the time, when we DID stop for something, it was to experience a foreseeable, crazy ~"If you don't do it now, you will never be here again" ~ kinda thing, like crossing over Hell's canyon in a tin can being drawn by a mule. Stuff like that would scare the crap out of me. My father delighted in knowing it would.

When these enchanted possibilities would occassionally occur, I would just stay in the car faking slumber.

If I have to go before my appointed REAL time, I don't want to be careening 100 miles an hour through the air with the prospect of my demise looming ever closer at the bottom of a God forsaken canyon, few people have ever even heard of.


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