I always wished I could be one of those people who could just pack up and move so many miles away. But I’m permanently umbilical corded to the place of my birth and probably always will be. I don’t know if it’s solely the fear of leaving everything that I know and love or if there are other factors holding me here, like fear of nuclear annihilation and the fact that I’ll never see my dog again, death by the Lake Erie Monster in retribution for leaving, or inadequate medical facilities, you know, because Cleveland is the only city that has such places of healing. But maybe one day, just maybe, I’ll have the courage to finally move. Until then, I have to rely on my little adventures to satiate my road-reared appetite.
I’m a driving maniac. I whole-heartedly LOVE road trips whether it be an hour expedition out to Amish country or a quick 11 hour jaunt down to visit my sister. Give me good music, enough money to cover gas and just plop me in a car and let me go.
Nothing beats that moment when you get on the road, an hour later then you intended because you wanted everyone to come out with you to your favorite Mexican restaurant the night before and you had one too many small waters, but that’s ok because you planned on sticking to just beer, and mixing the agave nectar doesn’t count towards being too tired or slightly hung over the next day because you had good intentions and it wasn’t your idea, and because you actually had the thought of having super human will-power even though it flew out the door 13 minutes into your “dinner party”, it’s ok and you won’t suffer. But it’s not and you are. And what made you think getting up at 4am was a good idea anyways? Yeah, a 5am starting time is pretty damn impressive but it is now 5:02am and you are bent over on the toilet drying your hair because your legs and left arm REFUSE to wake up and your brain repeats over and over and over “Idiot, Idiota, Scemo, Dunnerheid, Apush, Pendeja, 傻子, Abrutti, etc.” (You did after all hit snooze 2 times and finally gave up and reset your alarm for 4:45am). You have a time table to keep, traffic in Akron/Canton to avoid and your slovenly ways are now ruining your almost OCD behavior of being a road trip warrior! Damn it!!!
But there you are by some miracle at 5:35am with a gas station bought coffee flavored drink in hand, water bottles and various other sport like drinks filling every cup holder in your car, sitting at the Shell gas station by 271 ready to get on the road, looking as human as possible which is a feat in itself at such an early hour.
The car is considerately packed with:
1. Snacks consisting of bananas, home-made trail mix, candy bars and Alesci’s All-Italian sub sandwiches, mild, not hot (because hitting every gas station due to this horrible oversight from Virgina to the Atlantic Coast of North Carolina which spanned some 300 miles last year was something you always wanted to try).
2. The also tired/hungover unsuspecting sibling/cousin you coerced into coming with you on your hair brained idea of an adventure.
3. Various printed pages of Google maps and a 2009 Walmart road atlas, because you won’t be THAT person and succumb to those damn GPS evil Big Brother machines, even though your sister used it once on your way to North Carolina and it was amusing to watch your little 2-D blue car like shape weave around the West Virginian mountains, so in all it wasn’t THAT bad but you still regard the highly dependent use of electronics to be the downfall of society and the reason why kids can’t point out Iraq on a map in 2011.
4. 68 electronic device charging cords that are competing with the one electrical/lighter outlet in your car (I CAN point out Iraq and Sarawak too!). Your cousin has somehow orchestrated a plan which utilizes all 68 cords in a 10 hour period to keep/fully charge all electronic devices and after 16 road trips with her in the past 2 years, you still don’t understand the plan but that’s why you typically bring her along anyways.
5. Pillows and blankets for you to sleep with even though no matter what you do, no matter how far back you recline the passenger seat, no matter how much you curl your body up in the back seat, no matter how you position your body and the seat belt to make a head sling so your head doesn’t bounce off the door since you forgot to get that alignment and tire balance, you will still be uncomfortable and only sleep for six, 5 minute intervals during a 2 hour period, but that’s ok because some how this will give you enough energy to make it sanely through your last hour of driving before you start losing your shit and become paranoid that the white plumbing van that has been driving with you for the past 45 minutes in the middle of no where is really a trans-continental assassination outfit that is tracking you and will detonate their bomb packed vehicle within 10 miles of your destination because “someone” has it out for you. You just know these things.
6. The best damn mix-cds you have ever made in your entire life! No one, NO ONE is the master of making mixed cds of the ultimate worst/best songs in the world like myself. I have a Hocking Hills 2009 master mix, OBX 2010 sand dream mix, 2010 Oregon Insanity Drive jams and other oddly named and dated cds that would just make you cream your pants. I pretty much spend more time making these cds than I do planning the actual vacation/road trip and everyone understands that this is just the way it goes.
Now that we are well on our way into our little trip, ideas of future destinations start flying into the conversation even though we have complained 500 times about how long it takes to drive the length of the current state we are in, how our legs are cramping and that we are sick of bananas and the fact that we can only listen to so much Blue Grass on Sirius since we have expended our mixed cds 3 hours ago and we still have another 4 hours to go… *note to self* make more cds. But then comes the idea for the crèam de la crème of all road trips…cross country to Oregon and the plans start to unfold without effort.
My little Honda, which is only 5 years old and has well over 100,000 miles on it, has clearly been places. It has seen most of Ohio, Pennsylvania, Virgina and other states, witnessed mass road-trip hysteria, the puking of my middle sister on her 21st birthday even though I had bags, water and a peanut butter sandwich ready for her but she was so sloppy she couldn’t even get the damn window down, asshole. But the ultimate road trip still has yet to be driven despite the odds.
I buckled and made my way to Oregon, even though I flew into Portland because I was running out of vacation days at work. But this has still not deterred me to make the cross-country track to the Pacific Coast as originally intended. Black Beard (my car) will have to sit this one out, seeing as I need a working vehicle to get me to and from work when I get back so that I can make more money to go on more trips. It has been decided that I will rent a car. In order to offset the cost of this automotive endeavor, I have taken into consideration that I have to budget well on the other aspects of my 2 week road trip. This is where my cousin comes into play.
Besides my youngest sister and myself, my cousin Chelsea is considered the 3rd participant of the Road Warrior Trifecta. We would consider my cousin Stephanie who is a balls to the wall, doesn’t take shit, hardcore B.A.M.F Road Trip Warrior as well, if she weren’t always in NY skiing every winter weekend or floating around Lake Michigan every Saturday and Sunday during the summer. Chelsea will soon be leaving us later this year to embark on her own adventure with her husband who is in the Coast Guard and currently stationed in South Carolina. In 3 months, he is slated to be restationed. Considering the outcome of how high he tests in an upcoming training stint, his rank and some other crap that I don’t understand, these factors will determine where he and my cousin will be living. One would think, being in the Coast Guard, that they could be stationed in the tropical south, but because my family is so unorthodox, aka, WEIRD, my cousin is hoping to be stationed up north in either Alaska, Washington, Maine or Oregon, SCORE! She loathes heat, so any of these places would work perfectly towards her aversion to warmth. Bonus for me if she gets Oregon or Washington because that means a free place to stay, hence her being a big part of my perfect Road Trip plan to counterbalance my expensive vehicular rental bill. But God hates most people who only want good things to happen so there is a big possibility that my plan could crumble in one slight breath of bad luck.
Basically Chelsea and her husband have been handed a piece of paper with 40 locations of possible destinations of which they had to choose from. Because she is willing to be relocated to the Arctic circle, it is most likely that she will be moving to Key Largo, FL, Pittsburg, PA, Charleston SC, Fairport Harbor, OH or Nebraska. Wait, Nebraska?! You must be asking yourself, as I did when she told me this. Yes, Nebraska she said. Of ALL the places in the continental United States of America that are surrounded by large bodies of water, there is a particular buoy in the lone Missouri River that needs to be tended. This is most likely where Chels will end up, by no fault of her own except for the fact that she is a Passarello and we have shit luck.
This of course means that my Oregon trip will be thwarted in the living accommodations department. So I’m asking now (and making back up plans), if you or anyone you know, may have a place for me to crash in Oregon or Washington, closer to Portland or Seattle (if you live in Spokane, I don’t care, that is too far from where I want to go) then please let me know. Until then, many prayers and good thoughts that God overlooks all the wrong Chelsea has done in her life (which are many) that could completely destroy my Ultimate Trip and that he forgives her and lets her live some where awesome. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment