December 9th
I woke up this morning in my bed, in my room, in my house, surrounded by familiar walls, familiar pictures and the familiar clock radio resting beside me. Over the past several days I had grown used to waking to Justin's soft coos to rise out of bed from his place at the sink where he was lathering his chest for his daily shave. I was saddened.
But like all good things, this, too, had to end.
The drive back from Pittburgh was long. We had agreed to use this time as private ipod listening time. I had uploaded the latest episodes of "Radiolab," "This Amerian Life" and "Speaking of Faith" onto my ipod, so I was eagerly nodding my head to the thought provoking tenor voice of Jad Abumrad, the nerdy speech of Ira Glass, and the soft reassuring voice of Krista Tippet (yes, in that order).
However, as the weather grew colder and we approached the familiar signs of the New Jersey Turnpike, I had begun to realize that we were, in fact, returning to New York and to the life that we had briefly escaped from for one full week.
I spent most of today browsing through pictures I took throughout our trip. I watched so many small memories, so much emotion enclosed in two megabyte pixels that were slowly uploading onto my computer. The beautiful turquoise of the North Carolina Tarheels, the common columns adorning the homes in Charleston, the large shipping boats at the Savannah port, the small little hipster heaven in Little Five Points Atlanta, the voice of MLK echoing throughout the broken down city of Montgomery, the bellow of the guitarist at the restaurant in Jackson, the vast fields of cotton in the Delta, the soul of the 14 year old blues player in Memphis, the sweet little Pie lady outside of Nashville reminding us to vote for her pie next time, the chili waitress in Cincinnati, the soft dirt track of Churchill Downs, the construction workers in Pittsburgh who ended up being one of the friendliest people despite his "My Name is Earl" facial hair and southern swagger. All these memories ricocheted between my ears like lottery numbers. So many years of history crammed into one week.
And as I entered my car, a Dodge, not the Pontiac we had lovingly named "Betsy Sue," I felt strangely free. No electronic wires form laptops, ipods, cell phones, and power generators restricted me. No GPS woman repeatedly urging me to "BEAR LEFT AHEAD"- "AHEAD" in fact meaning "in 2 miles" - No assortment of Cheez-its, Granola Bars, Chex Mix, or Red Bulls stashed in the back seat beneath blankets and water bottles. There was no jewish man sitting beside me singing "Sweet Home Alabama" at the top of his lungs and then asking to stop at the next rest area so he can dispense urine into sanitation receptacles.
I woke up this morning, not on a road trip at all but instead more stationary than ever before. We drove 3000 miles in one week and landed right where we started. Ain't that life?
For a full album of our trip I invite you to the following link:
http://good-times.webshots.com/album/569143891LggCGW?vhost=good-times
God Bless.
