We’re eastbound and down, except for the down part. My head’s a little full of thoughts of the NOW and I’m conscious of the Journal NOT getting filled in as I go. But the NOW is enough. We’re in the very beginnings of a LONG long drive day, still fresh from the thwarting of small evils and the throes of harmless infatuation with a morning barrista, a goddess of blonde hair and apology. It all lingers with the coffee as we pile on the miles.
After fueling ourselves, we fueled Heather’s dauntless steed at a little local (to Edwardsville, IL) gas station and almost immediately received an automated phone call. A robotic, threatening male voice calling to say “unusual activity has been detected on your account, please call blah blah blah immediately to avoid unwanted interruptions” – a message I’ve heard before but with an ominous timbre and an unfamiliar number. Heather called her bank and sure enough it wasn’t THEIR automated call… so… yay…
God DAMN it but I don’t know how anyone even a little less smart than Heather can survive in this world, and Heather’s smarter than your average bear.
So I guess we’ll check in on that again in a couple of hours, see if anyone’s booked a flight or three on her credit card, or bought a dozen boomboxes. I think that’s what people do with stolen credit card numbers, right? They buy illicit boomboxes? Or Hell, maybe – JUST MAYBE – it was legit?
We’re on the very tail-end of this trip, with about 15 hours of eastbound travel yet ahead of us, and it feels both like we’ve been out forever and for no time at all. We’ve packed a lot in, and it feels like coming home to ourselves, being away from home. I sleep better, but I’m allergic to EVERYTHING. I play harder but move slower. The sun is ferocious, but we had that rare instance of the spring to summer SHOCK happening while we were in one place so it’s less associated with geography and more associated with the season.
Of course – it IS associated with direction – and whereas the westbound runaway FLEEING was accompanied with perfect temperatures and dappled sunshine, and the distant red sunsets of Canadian forest fires, the drive home is scorched by blazing rays of daylight and the choking, low haze of Canadian forest fires.
As if to remind us of the oppression in the atmosphere, every highway crossover is occupied by cops today. I-70 is being INTENTLY patrolled by official white vehicles, and every few minutes we pull to the side to pass someone caught in the shoulder being approached by a swaggering police officer.
Cruise control will be our guardian angel.
It’s been a beautiful trip. It’s good to be moving again. Like I said, it feels like coming home to myself, and it’s good to feel MISSED and welcomed back to doing what I DO, rather than what I OFFER. Fantastic shows, few of which actually went the way we’d expected. Whether it was the house concert that got to be a rock show or the bar gig that had the pin-drop quiet listening crowd. Outdoor gigs that were rained indoors or the indoor gig with the massive garage door that made you feel like it was outside, every single evening kept us on our toes in that way that makes you feel fully alert and alive.
Today is going to be a long, long drive. Certainly the longest drive I’VE been on in years, even including our races down to Georgia and back for family chaos. We’re smart enough to usually keep our stretches to less than five hours, but this wandering just didn’t line up that way.
Frankly it’s the VOM that did it. Our virtual open mic has introduced us to some people that we’d never have met otherwise, and we couldn’t come SO close to some people and not go all the way…. and so yesterday we bloody well MADE the time to go another five hours out of our path, down to Oklahoma, to visit Grover Duffield down in Grove, Oklahoma.
Because, damn it – ilyAIMY comes to YOU. Eventually.
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