Things you should bring on a road trip

* Your favorite cats-- you want to make sure you have someone to talk to, to remind you to take breaks, and remind you to stay in hotels and not open the door in the middle of the night.

* A thermos-- hotel rooms furnish mini-coffee makers and styrofoam cups. These cups are ridiculous, and environmentally insensitive, plus true road trippers don't have time to sit in a hotel room and sip away a pot. Why not an insulated cup, you ask? Because an insulated cup is what you take with you to work, at your job. A thermos is for the long journey of the road tripper.

*Granola bars-- excellent source of fiber and protein and don't decay during the trip. The problem? They always have little chocolate chips that jump off them and get between your pants and the car seat.

* Film canister pinhole camera-- I think this one is pretty obvious.

* A GPS-- The trick with this device is how you program it. Obviously, it helps you find you way from one place to another, but it does take you on the least inspiring route possible. Be sure to select the option "least use of freeways," every now and then, to see some true country back roads.

Beware, however, that you may not like all that you see on those back roads:

I got back on the freeway after driving behind that one for a few miles.

The music of fear

This is the sound emanating from the courthouse in the center of town. It translates to "it's coming. Hide." But it was haunting. I couldn't move. Today, when I was driving out of Indiana, I stopped in a town where it had touched down. There were trees and branches down. A woman I talked to said her family slept in hallway, because they don't have a basement. I overhead another man talking about how his horses were afraid and ran away. He called everyone the next day, and someone finally found them sleeping in their driveway.

Enter Ohio

I am in Cleveland, in a Best Western. It is after midnight. I watched t.v. on the computer, because there were more shows available on the internet than on the antennae-based television in the room. I talked to J earlier via video chat. I'm starting to see how the internet will replace everything-- t.v., radio, phones, commuting. Something as mundane as a road trip seems time consuming, simple, slow. Sure I can listen to a book, and I am making progress towards a destination, but I can't shake the feeling I am not getting anything done. Yes, I know-- getting there is half the fun. That means looking around, stopping at local spots, etc. But all the 'local spots' suddenly look the same. Is this Arby's any different from that one? Is this vine-covered, falling-down barn any different than the one in C'ville, Indiana? True, I saw a beautiful red barn with a purple metal roof today. That may be a bigger statement that Indiana is ready for. But I couldn't get to it to even to a picture for the Internet-- why are there no off-ramps in middle America? How do you get to all those houses? How to the people who live there get to stores, airports, cities? Are they really so self-sufficient that they don't need to??

I smuggled cats into the hotel room. It is harder to do alone than with someone. But they are a comfort. I wish they could be out in the car during the drive, that they enjoyed it more (I mean, they sleep the whole time at home, why is sleeping in the car so distressing to them?).

Anyway, I have nothing terribly witty to say right now. I will try to think of better insights in the morning.

Why you should leave town when you plan, and not wait a day.

Yesterday was the first day it wasn't 70 degrees and beautifully comfy. It was 85 in the shade, with something like 90% humidity. Do you know what happens when a cool area gets that hot and humid that fast? It's like rubbing your socked feet on the carpet. Only bigger.
C'ville, in the middle. That's us. See the red thing moving east? That's a tornado forming. Those little white dots? Lightning strikes.

We sat in the basement and did Saduko puzzles. The tornado siren made the most hauntingly beautiful sounds. Nothing happened. At least the basement was cool and less humid. When we came out, we saw it went around us and took out part of Indianapolis instead.

Pushed out of the earth

Road trip

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The road trip-- it is the symbolic act of chasing the American Dream. When you go to Europe, you go back packing. When you go to South America, you bike. Australia, a walkabout. Africa, a safari. America, it is the road trip. It was America that put the auto into mass-production. Thousands of miles of highway, by sea, through desert, over mountain's majesty. Over the river and through the woods. For this, Americans also produce more waste, more carbon emissions, more smog, and we have the rear ends to show for it.

*(Now there are hybrid cars and developments in biodiesel, all of which sounds like a mistake to me. I vote for more solar cars with better batteries, and maybe they run on dirty shower water or something. Temporarily, I think all Americans should be required to drive cars that burn CO2 into O2 to offset all our other gluttons. But I digress...)*

So I am about to embark on a mini-trip. What to bring, what to take, what to think... Which museums to go to? Where to find WiFi connections?

Another version of the story

Here is another article written by my college. Please disregard the photo though. It was taken against my will!
And another.
The local paper wrote something up on Tuesday, but they do not post their articles online, nor do they archive their briefs. Missed opportunity.
It's old news already. That's okay. There are all these big, terrible things happening in the world.

On the Banks of the Wabash-- that didn't really happen

I have this saying I like to use in a joking manner, whenever you see t.v. or movies give you obvious foreshadowing-- "This can only end in tears." But I wouldn't think that in real life, no sir, never. But you wouldn't believe what did actually happen yesterday, and everything miraculously turned out all right. For a moment, I did think it. My brain whispered, "This can only end...", and I had to say, "Shh. I'm busy right now."

Which is probably why I am convinced it couldn't have possibly happened-- no one is this lucky.

We are still parsing the information. More soon. Let's say, we made the cover of the local section of the paper. And the grass is very green today. The sky is very blue.

link to music to accompany this post

wildflower medly

what spring means

Imagine when this was significant, when it meant work would be hard, and food would be plentiful.

Now it's plentiful all the time, and makes people miserable.

Click for texture.

Blogging Kitsch.

I know my faithful readers are entertained by my entries, but would like to know more about the woman behind the art. I would like to speak directly to them and answer some of their questions.

What are you reading right now?
I am reading several books right now, depending on which room I am in, how much stamina I have, and what mood I am in. These include:

• "Montgomery County Remembers" by Constance Riggs
• "Montgomery County: Legends and Lore" by Pat Cline
• "Freckles" by Gene Stratton-Porter
• "Life, Death, and the Ladies Drill Team" by Jessamyn West
• "Memories: 1816-1916" by Bina Thomson Sarver
• "Work, for the Night is Coming" by Jared Carter
• "Plain Talk" by Carol Burke
• "Making a performance : devising histories and contemporary practices" by Emma Govan

I just finished

• "Girl of the Limberlost" by Gene Stratton-Porter
• "The Witch Diggers" by Jessamyn West
• "After the Rain" by Jared Carter

What did you do today?
Excellent question. I bought cat food, drove to work (for the first time in a long time-- it was raining and I was running late), met with a student about their summer photo project, ordered Photoshop CS3 (I'm behind, I know), scanned negatives, made some (large) prints, came home, returned some library books and picked up some new ones, made dinner, then watched the movie "300." I gathered some files for my website, but will not be updating it for a few more days. I skimmed some of my favorite blogs: Dooce, Go Fug Yourself, Boing Boing, Tree Hugger, and We Make Money Not Art. I am too lazy, however, to make the links for you. They are easy enough to find.

What is the most recent camera you used?
I used a scanner to make images of negatives. I think that counts. It is an Epson Expression 10000.

What music are you listening to right now?
I just bought the "Rihanna" album on iTunes. I just want to say, please don't stop the music.

Who is the last person you emailed in California?
My step-father, and before that, my grad school adviser. He was asking about training cats, and she is retiring.

Speaking of cats, how are they? What are they doing?
They are sleeping right now. Preparing for another early morning of stealing my pillow from under my head.

Speaking for retiring, any future plans of that?
I don't see retirement being much different from now, except for the added bonus my grandma always told me about-- ogling young fellows without consequence!

safety nets

cinco sound experiement

Actual sounds from Indiana. Even though I think they sound like a meditation CD.

And then...

*But what kind is it? Must a snake in the grass mean danger, or is it all in my head?

poem

Walking


feet






Carry


me


through


the


woods





To


my




daily


work.

It seemed important just now

Take a moment to listen.

Shades of Death*

Yesterday, we went for a little hike in Shades State Park. I didn't bring the still camera-- I brought the video camera (I am experimenting on something right now), so I have no images to show you. Maybe I will have time to upload video, but for now, I want to say:

Even in the beginning of spring, without the full greenness unfurled, it was one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. And I have been to Yosemite, the redwoods, Joshua Tree, etc. It was surprising. And when I looked online to find images to refer to this entry in place of my own, I came up with slim pickings. Mostly from blogs. So, until I can upload some stimulating video of my shoes walking around, these links will have to do. Know that while the images linked here are perfectly lovely, they still not as inspired as the place itself was. I commend you, brave bloggers, for posting the possibly unpostable!

*Please Note: There is a series of rather peculiar legends associated with the name of the park/this post. Far be it from me to propagate a rumor, I will not repeat them here until I have found some hard evidence.

A little California(n) in Indiana

There was an earthquake this morning. I thought there weren't supposed to be those here. Not that I mind, or am worried. It is actually a little funny to google Indiana earthquakes and see the biggest ones here only brush past 5 points on the Richter Scale. Sure, some walls crack, some chimneys have (in the past) fallen down and pictures sometimes fall off the wall. Cracked walls? The plaster walls of the two houses I have liven in here are more cracked to begin with than my old house in California. Fallen chimneys? Many of the ones I have seen standing are crocked to begin with. Knocked pictures? May as well remind you they are there and should be switched out as the kids get older.

In short, I am unphased. Bring it on! I am hardened to the shakings of the earth by my hearty California upbringing.

I have found more wildflowers for you (click the pictures for texture). In high school we collected and cataloged them. I feel as though I need to do the same here to truly understand the place. These ones are yet unnamed, but I will pull out my old science neurons and try to find them out.

Wildflowers and empty egg from the lawn

new rental

I am determined to live stylishly.
Click for details.