Travelogue

To shorten a long story: I wanted to pick up some items that had belonged to my mother in Tulsa.  The easiest way to do so was in a car.  The planning began: 

• Ideal dates: check
• Rent small SUV: check
• Determine length of time necessary: check
• Get time off from work: check.
• Invite traveling companion, aka younger daughter Amanda: check
• Finalize details: check

We determined that the easiest place to meet up with Amanda (who lives in New York) was Dallas. That way, she could see a whole lot more of Oklahoma than just Tulsa.  So, I picked up the rental and drove to Dallas in one day.  Sights and impressions along the way:

I noted 6 Starbucks on the road from Atlanta to Dallas, if one does not count Birmingham and its immediate environs.  No, I did not stop at any of them.  

The highway widens near Talledega, Alabama, where I believe the natives indulge in some ritual around waiting for cars to crash into each other.  The highway then quickly narrows.  I understand this to be about priorities.

The first sign I saw for Philadelphia, Mississippi brought three names immediately to mind: Schwerner, Chaney and Goodman (in that order).  I wonder what they say about those three and that era in the local public schools.  Even better, what do they say in charter schools?

When my children were small and we took road trips, we made a game out of crossing state lines.  I would inform them that one was coming up.  They would lean forward from their back seats as we approached a border.  As soon as we hit the state line, they would say, quickly, "two states at once".  They have continued this tradition through the years, now sending these updates to each other (and to me) via text messages.  I added a wrinkle to this, by sending simple texts with the state nickname to the two of them, as I crossed each border.  "Magnolia" elicited a question from Julia.  Then, Pelican, finally, Lone Star.  

A brief stop in Vicksburg reinforced why it played such a crucial role in the Civil War.  A beautiful, rolling landscape led to bluffs that commanded a view of the passing Mississippi.  Grant tried everything he could, from every different direction, to seize that spot, finally settling on a siege that led to a surrender.  That it happened at precisely the same time as Gettysburg makes that battle's finale even more striking.

Gallup, New Mexico has long topped my list of the Ugliest City I Have Ever Seen.  In fairness, I have not been there for over 30 years, so things may have changed.  In that interim, I have been to countless others, including Flint, Detroit and Toledo.  The newest contender for this dubious achievement: Monroe, LA. In fact, I would wager that Louisiana, at least the parts I drove through, is about the most uninteresting stretch of 200 miles I have ever driven.

First mile marker on I-20 in East Texas: 635, which was approximately how many I had driven already that day.  That is a big ass state (readers, say those three words aloud; now, say them again, this time, place the emphasis on the middle word.  How much does that alter your intent?).  Shortly thereafter, I saw a rusting oil pump.  Yes, I am in Texas.

Best roadside sight: picnic area with tables under wooden structures that resembled oil derricks.  I regret that this was on the other side of the highway, so I could not photograph this.

Interstate 20 in Texas is vastly superior to its counterpart in the three states immediately to its East (LA, MS, AL).  I do not believe this is due to the profound executive skills of the two most recent governors of Texas.  I suppose it more likely that politicos in the Lone Star State are just smarter about their corruption by making their fortunes while making good roads.  I do not know, however, if this is by intent or not.

Only in Dallas could they build this entirely new town and call it Legacy.  Large campuses for such corporate behemoths as HP and Intuit are surrounded by pricey townhouses, cool-looking apartments and a retail strip with the inevitable national outlets (Jamba Juice, Chipotle), some boutique-like restaurants, high-end fashion shops, at least two day spas and Urban Outfitters.  Oh, yes, there was a Starbucks, plus the largest Potbelly I have seen.  Crowning touch: on the principal street (oddly enough, called Legacy) of this area, loudspeakers were blaring that loud, repetitive thumping that is played in the lobbies of Renaissance Hotels.  This was at 6:00 am.  The only thing missing from this new tradition was a BMW dealership/repair/detail shop.  That would truly be iconic.

In N Out Burger.  Divine.

President George Bush Turnpike.  It does not indicate it is named after Bush I or Shrub.  If its the latter, I wonder if the costs of construction were never defined, simply put on the proverbial credit cards of the citizens.  That is only fitting for one who told us that the cost for liberating Iraq would be less than $75 billion.  Actual costs: over $2 trillion thus far, not to mention the additional $1 trillion in interest payments for the funds borrowed to pay for it, since no taxes were raised to finance that little adventure.  I'm sure glad that mission was accomplished.  

I did stay at a lovely, freshly reinvented Courtyard in Plano.  Wonderful product, extremely friendly, engaging people and a convenient location (well, at least to In N Out and Starbucks, to name but two).  Then, it was time to meet Amanda at DFW, which is, in no uncertain terms, a big ASS airport.  Stay tuned for chapter two, The Road Trip.