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#3 — To Denver Posted March 14, 2001, 1:11 AM 8:30, Leaving Eric tricks me and parks the van out on the street, instead of in the driveway. His evil trickery begins early. Eric tells me that the Dodge Caravan has a special design. When you go about releasing the emergency brake, you really open the hood. This feature helps the driver remember the good old days when you had to crank start a car because the driver has to get out and go up to the front of the car and close the hood before driving off. We drive. We are one-minute away, and I realize that I have forgotten my breakfast danish on the counter. Eric says that doing without builds character. That's where all those fonts on the computer came from, he says, from the character building. We drive on. We pass through town, driving past the Gold Mine and the golf course. Eric says that golf is the only gold a real man ever needs. He says that God made no mistake when he made golf only one letter different from gold. Eric says that all golfers know the true secret of the meaning of the F in golf. He says it's a secret society though and he cannot tell me. I am saddened and want to note my woe for those who come after. No notes to the future. Eric says that I may not write on the roof of the car. We are 10 minutes out of town, and I realize that I do not have my jacket. I am sadder. I tell Eric I will suffer and that he should drive on. Then I remember that I am also without the red and white paper decisionmaker thingie that we made after the Denver Convention in the Rocky Mountain Diner. We turn the van around and drive back to St. Joe. We needed potty breaks anyway. It's good practice to drive a little bit of a journey and then turn around and go back. It builds character Eric says. 9:15, St. Joe We hit the road again. The Tamagotchi still sleeps. This time, we decide to be more aware of our surroundings and the importance of interacting with others. We practice country road waving so that we are prepared for if'n we encounter locals. Suddenly, on the second pass, the 10-minute drive is a wondrous thing. I write a poem: a birdhouse on the back of the Interstate road sign some birds can rest while others travel on slow...... stop a flash of recognition punctuation problems at the strip joint 3 deer stand near the lawn mower cemetary there's that guy he's working with those other guys near cows not working eating drinking mooing in the mud 10:00, Atchison, Birthplace of Amelia Earhart Eric weeps to hear my poem. He proclaims it more beautiful than peaches, more haunting than pottery, and more intellectual than potato soup. We have to pull over so he can dry his eyes. He forces himself to think of Fredo the mole's parting words to us: beauty is beautiful but only if you realize it is full of beauty. 10:30, Topeka The state capital looms far in the distance, but we are on the garage and trucking industry fringe of town and are not threatened with seeing anything historical or intellectual. All we see is a huge tire plant. Not that the plant is overly large, but they are making tires for monster trucks, killing machines, and tractors. I am frightened and hide in the hood of my coat. We turn from Topeka and head into the unknown of Kansas. I have read the maps to lead the noble driver, he-whose-Tamagotchi-still-sleeps through the moo-marked countryside of Atchison-Topeka. Junction City to Abilene, he is on his own. I nap. 11:30, in the middle of nowhere (eastside) I wake up. The striking landscape makes me wince when Eric says that we will pull off the highway in Abilene. How will I survive without these images. I write a poem, hoping my words can begin to make the scenes last. kansas, the hills they roll and roll rolling and rolling and rolling the rolling hills they roll roll away oh roll you rolling hills roll and roll and roll and roll and roll and roll Eric says boredom is the key to success. He says this is the reason that they make you read Foucault and Derrida in Grad School. I'm not really sure why he's talking about boredom. 12 noon, Abilene A roadside sign proclaims of Kansas, home to America's Helicopter. Abilene, the trails end here" another sign shouts. Eric says not to be scared. It's just another apostrophe error. Not an edict from the state. We're allowed to drive on if we want. I can't think of any reason I'd want to arm a town the size of Abilene. Maybe there's some deal going on here that I just can't understand. Eisenhower's boyhood home, museum, library. Astronaut Stephen Hawley's home town (who is he?). The International Museum of Independent Telephony. The Greyhound Hall of Fame. I do not know how we can leave. There is too much here. We must stay. We must explore Abilene, the end of the Chisolm Trail. Eric says that journey has just begun and there is much more to see. We must drive on. 12:15, the middle of nowhere (south central) kansas, the hills they roll and roll rolling and rolling and rolling the rolling hills they roll roll away oh roll you rolling hills roll and roll and roll and roll and roll and roll 12:43, Rolling Hills Refuge For some, the rolling hills are too much. They must take shelter. Eric says that they shunt off the highway, flocking to the refuge, where they can see miles and miles and miles and miles of flat hills. Finally, refuge from the rolling hills. I ask if we can go to the refuge. Eric checks the Tamagotchi and pretends he cannot hear me. 1:12, the middle of nowhere (westside) Eric says that these farmers are growing dirt and stubble. He says that dirt and stubble are amazing cash crops. The Tamagotchi poops in the car again. Eric says that the Tamagotchi's functions are all represented by cultural icons. The duck function cleans up the poop. He says that the duck is a well-known icon in Japan and the US for cleaning up poop. He says I couldn't possibly understand the semiotics of it all and to hush while he talks. Eric explains the rest of the Tamagotchi's functions. The monotony becomes too much. I take a sadistic turn. I am suddenly compelled to use the discipline function. Take that, you Tamagotchi. And that. And that. Bad Tamagotchi. You go away. Go Big Alligator City. I no like you. Another sign for America's first helicopter. This one indicates that the helicopter itself is actually in Goodland, another 3 hours down the road. Eric says that Kansas is all about looking forward to what might be down the road. We begin seeing signs for Oakley, home of the world's largest prairie dog and the five-legged cow. It doesn't matter if any of these things really exist, Eric says. Kansas is all about make-believe. That is because of the Wizard of Oz, he says. Road work. Eric slaloms through the traffic cones like an Olympic racer. The state trooper is not amused. We see Cindy's dutch belted cows. 1:30, Russell, Kansas More signs boast of local kansasans -- Russell is the birthplace of Senators Bob Dole and Arlen Specter (Pennsylvania). Kansas has boasted of Earhart, Eisenhower, two astronaughts, and, now, two senators. The hills roll. Eric says that anyone would do anything to get out of Kansas. Famous people are born here, but they don't stay, Eric says. No one with any sense would stay, he says. 3:30, Colby The sign says that Colby is the place to turn for the best route to Pikes Peak. Eric glazes. A Flashback: After the night of the bat, Eric rolls crampedly across the rolling hills of Kansas, toward the shadow of Pikes Peak. Back to the present, we drive on. 27 miles from the Colorado border, a sign: Kansas, the Wheat State. As people leave a state, it is good to tell them your motto. 3:30, Time Zone Changes 3:45, Goodland We stop at the home of America's First Helicopter, after 4 hours of anticipation. When we first saw the sign at noon, the helicopter was interesting. At this point, Eric says another that isn't a rolling hill is a compelling sight. We pull off, but not a helicopter is to be found. Instead we go to the entrance of the world's worst designed McDonalds. Eric says coffee builds strong bones and teeth. I insist on diet coke. Eric groans and takes up the Dwight D. Eisenhower Statuary Stance that he uses whenever something is awry. I do a deep plie. 3:30, State Line welcome to colorful colorado the border sign says. The colors seem to be brown and dead and dirt. Compelling stuff. A veritable crayola box. Colorado is flatter. Eric says that it used to be much bumpier, being closer to the Rockies and all, but they brought in a bulldozer and flattened it all out. Part of a beautification project, aimed at making other parts of the state seem more beautiful by comparison. Thus the majesty of the Rockies. 4:00, Genoa Colorado is less showy about their landmarks, Eric notes. We see the brown sign, "Point of Interest" and an arrow. See in Colorado, Eric says, people just know that when folk say there's something of interest you darn tootin oughta pull off and look at it. It's not like Kansas where they have to explain for 150 miles about the majesty of the five-legged cow or the splendor of the world's largest prairie dog. 4:30, desolate east colorado The debate begins again. Are those clouds in the distance? Or are they mountains? If they are not mountains, if we are not making progress, I will lose my mind. Eric says they might be large ice cream cones. I begin to weep. We agree that whatever they are we will pretend that it's Pikes Peak. A peek at the peak. 4:40, slightly less desolate east colorado We stop at the Texaco. Eric fills the gas tank. I wash the windshield and the headlights. Wayne has taught me well. I want desparately to go by the Loaf 'n' Jug; but Eric says we must drive on. Kansas, Eric says, is the road to success. After all, he says, we succeeded in leaving. He adds, silly string is a party in a can. Trouble on the horizon A truck too close A car too far 5:50, outer Denver TRAFFIC. Eric says, Kansas did have that going for it. No traffic. The Tamagotchi poops in the car, in the traffic. Why does it always poop at inconvenient times? We navigate downtown. The bellhops are confused by the vast bounty of our cargo. "A TV?" each asks. Eric replies simply, "Germs." They nod knowingly. Finally, in our rooms, we relax a second and change shoes. Then we head out to the Rocky Mountain Diner for Yuppi-i-o dip. We are tired, but happy. We go by Barnes and Noble. Presents are needed for younglings. Eric buys programming books for each of his daughters. He says that they will lend these books to him. Eric says that children know the true value of a present when the parent constantly wants to borrow the item. Tomorrow, the journey from our rooms to the exhibit hall. I spend the night practicing my deer crossing alert. I know that Eric is in his room practicing his authoritative Dwight D. Eisenhower Statuary Stance, for something is bound to go awry. Stay tuned, dear reader. More tomorrow. |
