day one

Left Houston at 6:30AM and were sitting in our hotel room in Las Cruces having a cocktail fewer than twelve hours later. Credit making such great time to the 80mph speed limit in west Texas. I’d heard of it but thought it was an urban legend. 80mph? But sure enough, there it was. So we kept it right under 80 and saw jackass after jackass who’d ridden our asses to get by just an hour earlier getting pulled over by the fuzz. Dumbasses. No one should drive over 80mph, even if it’s legal. It’s too easy for something bad to happen – very quickly. And I think the po-lice figure that they’re giving you a gift of 80mph – if you surpass that, you’re just being greedy.

Not a whole lot to report for the drive out. We stopped in a small town called Sonora to have a bite of lunch. The town had the usual suspects for shitty fast food, which I rarely eat. That being said, I was quite excited to dine at Dairy Queen. I’m not sure if I’ve eaten at one of those since high school. I ordered a cheeseburger and James got steak fingers. My burger was eh, but his steak fingers were uncomfortably tasty. I’m not a food snob or anything, but I shudder at the thought of being happy with something from DQ (other than a dip cone or dilly bar, if they still make those). But damn. As we ate, we noticed close to thirty old folks scattered about the restaurant. They all were wearing a name tag identifying that they were with a tour. I talked to some of the ladies in the rest room and found out that they were going to Las Vegas and then the Grand Canyon. Party. And guess what – tonight they are staying in the same hotel we are! Keep in mind, this was at 11:30am in Texas and we didn’t get here until more than six hours later. So that was a funny coincidence. But not at all surprising.

Here’s the other thing. Four “hipster” guys came in while we were eating. They looked like they live in Austin, though I suppose they could have been from any city where costumed jackasses live. Odds are on Austin, though. One of them was wearing the sort of hat I’ve seen in pix of John Lennon when he was a kid, so I associate it with adolescent British boys. Who knows if that’s accurate or not. Three of them entered the restaurant in a lump and headed straight for the bathroom. The fourth lingered outside and then came inside…with his camera. He was very confused to not find his other hip friends inside because even he couldn’t imagine that all three of them went to the john at the same time. Two people can barely fit in there. So he stood there in his sarcastic Urban Outfitters tee shirt, holding his camera, looking like an asshole.

Here’s the thing – you have to know when you are going to capture “kitsch” on your camera. Going to a DQ in a small Texas town is too obvious. If you must take pictures, do so on the DL. Don’t make a fucking production of it. He chickened out or realized what a jerk he would be to take pictures of the local color (which wasn’t really local since all the old folks were from out of town and then there was James and me – and you know i was watching those guys way too closely while laughing with my eyes). So they ordered some blizzards and were on their way.

I hope they noticed the Mazda3 parked out front with the “Fight stupidization.” sticker on it. Yes, I brought the magnetized sticker back out for this trip. Figured a few days on the car wouldn’t hurt anything, and I’m happy to spread the word about fighting stupidization to a couple of new states. I brought along a few extra bumper stickers in case I find a place to stick a few along the way. Perhaps on a boulder in the Grand Canyon?

Enough writing for tonight. We had margaritas at dinner and I’m finding typing to be a chore. If we have wifi at the next place, I’ll write more. If not, you’ll get the recap when I’m back home.

One last thing – evidently I can drive the car for a looooooooooooong time without it being a big deal. I think that having to sit on my ass all day at work has made me especially suited for long distance driving. Or I’m wrong and tomorrow I’ll get road rash of the eye and drive us into the GC like Thelma and Louise. Six of one.

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