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Published: July 13th 2009
It's Monday morning. I am back at my desk in my home office. The trip is over and the weekend is over and it's time to start dealing with everything again. I am alright with that. I am just so happy that for 5 or 6 days I was actually able to turn it all off. The whole time on the road I did not let any of the negative thoughts about this house seep into my brain. I blasted them out with very loud music and thoughts of the past and future.
Not much time to write now as I'm a little overwhelmed with real-life stuff but I did want to post the pics and make one last observation about the countryside I just drove through; a country that has been expressed in different ways by different artists over the decades. Artists as diverse as Norman Rockwell, Jack Kerouac, Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson. The reality is always going to be somewhere in the middle of the extremes...a hodge podge of the picture-perfect "American Dream" Rockwell painted, the dirty, gritty streets and cities of Kerouac and the small town farmers, families and troublemakers personified in songs by Willie and
From what I saw this all still exists, it's just been skewed a little. Main Street is no longer the town center it used to be...most people are now in the huge strip-malls on streets named after the stores that reside on them. Galleria Way has taken the place of Main Street. Supercuts have taken the place of the local barber. Cineplex’s the place of the local Theater. Numerous chains have replaced the local diner, ice cream shop, coffee shop, etc.
That being said...the characters haven't changed. You still have the overly friendly people in the South (as Drew said they are nice if they like you, they are extremely nice if they don't), you still have the cowboy types hanging out in the dive bars before noon, you still have the rich, poor, ladder-climbers and bottom-dwellers in the cities. You still have the truckers on the highways and the school buses on the back roads.
It's all still there...it's just different somehow. Like looking at one of those Norman Rockwell paintings in one of those funhouse mirrors that distorts everything. It's like climbing into one of those paintings only to find that once you get
a little deeper in, it becomes darker, it becomes a little scary, it becomes a Tom Waits song.
55 Hours in car
6 Cities (spent time in)
All Pics Posted: CLICK HERE FOR PICS
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