Week of Silence '05: Day 6
it's the driving. it's the driving the driving the driving that's the key. key to what? whatever, that's not the point.
the point is the driving.
denver. after denver comes kansas. after kansas comes missouri. after missouri is illinois and after love comes marriage.
then comes the baby in the baby carriage.
anyway, the reigning commentary on kansas seems to be the following:
"it's flat. like, really flat."
"yeah. flat."
but the reigning commentary was silent for this leg, mostly. the journey through kansas was mute and matte, pitch black outside with light chance for plains. no prarie dogs. no twisters. no green witches or funny lookin' flyin' houses. no sparkly red shoes. no monkeys, flying or otherwise. no curtains and no men behind them.
instead it was fairly quick and to the point. kansas has left no indelible marks and basically holds no particular imagery in my mind. it's a state, and that's about it. what a sad set of affairs...but then again you can't have every state be memorable. because then they'd all be memorable. and if they were all memorable then they wouldn't be different, so instead of states they'd just be 'that place over there that's not over here but could have been over here.'
so from 5:30pm to 9:30am i drive and drive and drive and drive and then i hit missouri.
missouri. old roomate lives in missouri, though i didn't know if it was st. louis or not. i was gonna take a shot to just stop somewhere randomly in st. louis, somehow find an internet connection, hack and crack and find out where his school is and see if there's a way to look him up. nevermind that i'm not talking all week and that me showing up randomly at his front door like a walking smile that hasn't bathed in a notable amount of time would be kinda weird. nevermind that i haven't got a clue how to start looking for him and that it would just be a stupid way to inevitably waste my time. nevermind that there's no way to confirm if he's even at home, were i to find out where that is.
so, st. louis, although arch-tastic and shiny and respectable as you are, i'm afraid this is a passing interest. another time will lead to arch inspection, another day will lead to plumbing your urban depths. but for right now i want to get home.
so i go home.
from st. louis back to chicago the traveling fray is most ripe. driving in the afternoon and basically winding your way back up the midwestern countryside, full of corn and land and land and land and land and land and a couple trees and a silo and some other junk in the corner over there and land and land and land.
but going up into illinois just beat the band. it's things like 'soy city.' what a place, that decatur, don't you think?
'soy city'
seriously, what kind of name is that? is it cool? is it dorky? is it lame and, as such, effectively dorky cool? is it just something that bears repeating, a contemporary 'cellar door' for all you darko fans? maybe it's that i'm making way too much out of something that is basically a two word phrase. basically.
and i don't know about all of you, but pseudo-country music is just somethin' else.
"i like my women
a little on
the trashy side."
honestly now, how can you not think that's the coolest kind of redneck-country-boy-son-of-the -soil-kinda-jive line? it had a good beat, too, i thought. then we move on to the country singer guy goin' on about his dream woman and her entrance into bars, gettin' in there and just grabbin' a beer, shouting at the bartender to "play somethin' country." that one had a beat too, boy. there's some knee-slapping times right there, i tell you what. good stuff, good stuff.
but it was the rush home that rushed me home. just wanted to get home, clean up, comfort up, settle up. so i drove and i drove and i drove. up through the bottom and middle of illinois, highway to highway to highway and jumping lanes as i went. i actually made a pitstop over by normal, a notable town mostly because i was there for about four days a while back.
normal coffee (in that it was coffee bought in normal, il), normal gas, normal air and normal tracks. i head back home.
so the question is whether to return the rental car today or just keep it and return it tomorrow before the corresponding rental time from a week ago? either way it's charging me a whole day, it's just a matter of wanting to return it now or later. the question, it seems, was willing to wait.
so i get home. right about 5:30pm, i get inside, roomate all a busy getting ready for a thing. i get in, plop down the bags, rush to the bathroom and shower like a madman (or, like, you know...myself).
and then, my friends, the day was spent in silence amidst my city once again. i decide to return the car later and basically crash.
oh crashing. what a pleasant way to end the day.
lesson for day 6: there's no place like home, there's no place like kansas, and there's no substitute for putting an end to things.
the point is the driving.
denver. after denver comes kansas. after kansas comes missouri. after missouri is illinois and after love comes marriage.
then comes the baby in the baby carriage.
anyway, the reigning commentary on kansas seems to be the following:
"it's flat. like, really flat."
"yeah. flat."
but the reigning commentary was silent for this leg, mostly. the journey through kansas was mute and matte, pitch black outside with light chance for plains. no prarie dogs. no twisters. no green witches or funny lookin' flyin' houses. no sparkly red shoes. no monkeys, flying or otherwise. no curtains and no men behind them.
instead it was fairly quick and to the point. kansas has left no indelible marks and basically holds no particular imagery in my mind. it's a state, and that's about it. what a sad set of affairs...but then again you can't have every state be memorable. because then they'd all be memorable. and if they were all memorable then they wouldn't be different, so instead of states they'd just be 'that place over there that's not over here but could have been over here.'
so from 5:30pm to 9:30am i drive and drive and drive and drive and then i hit missouri.
missouri. old roomate lives in missouri, though i didn't know if it was st. louis or not. i was gonna take a shot to just stop somewhere randomly in st. louis, somehow find an internet connection, hack and crack and find out where his school is and see if there's a way to look him up. nevermind that i'm not talking all week and that me showing up randomly at his front door like a walking smile that hasn't bathed in a notable amount of time would be kinda weird. nevermind that i haven't got a clue how to start looking for him and that it would just be a stupid way to inevitably waste my time. nevermind that there's no way to confirm if he's even at home, were i to find out where that is.
so, st. louis, although arch-tastic and shiny and respectable as you are, i'm afraid this is a passing interest. another time will lead to arch inspection, another day will lead to plumbing your urban depths. but for right now i want to get home.
so i go home.
from st. louis back to chicago the traveling fray is most ripe. driving in the afternoon and basically winding your way back up the midwestern countryside, full of corn and land and land and land and land and land and a couple trees and a silo and some other junk in the corner over there and land and land and land.
but going up into illinois just beat the band. it's things like 'soy city.' what a place, that decatur, don't you think?
'soy city'
seriously, what kind of name is that? is it cool? is it dorky? is it lame and, as such, effectively dorky cool? is it just something that bears repeating, a contemporary 'cellar door' for all you darko fans? maybe it's that i'm making way too much out of something that is basically a two word phrase. basically.
and i don't know about all of you, but pseudo-country music is just somethin' else.
"i like my women
a little on
the trashy side."
honestly now, how can you not think that's the coolest kind of redneck-country-boy-son-of-the -soil-kinda-jive line? it had a good beat, too, i thought. then we move on to the country singer guy goin' on about his dream woman and her entrance into bars, gettin' in there and just grabbin' a beer, shouting at the bartender to "play somethin' country." that one had a beat too, boy. there's some knee-slapping times right there, i tell you what. good stuff, good stuff.
but it was the rush home that rushed me home. just wanted to get home, clean up, comfort up, settle up. so i drove and i drove and i drove. up through the bottom and middle of illinois, highway to highway to highway and jumping lanes as i went. i actually made a pitstop over by normal, a notable town mostly because i was there for about four days a while back.
normal coffee (in that it was coffee bought in normal, il), normal gas, normal air and normal tracks. i head back home.
so the question is whether to return the rental car today or just keep it and return it tomorrow before the corresponding rental time from a week ago? either way it's charging me a whole day, it's just a matter of wanting to return it now or later. the question, it seems, was willing to wait.
so i get home. right about 5:30pm, i get inside, roomate all a busy getting ready for a thing. i get in, plop down the bags, rush to the bathroom and shower like a madman (or, like, you know...myself).
and then, my friends, the day was spent in silence amidst my city once again. i decide to return the car later and basically crash.
oh crashing. what a pleasant way to end the day.
lesson for day 6: there's no place like home, there's no place like kansas, and there's no substitute for putting an end to things.
posted by Mister Vikas at 11:12 PM
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