~Soaking up America~
Part Tree
Today's Bumper Sticker Sighting: Save a cow, eat a vegetarian
After a few weeks of driving I've found myself at the sister school of Haystack, a beautiful artist institute of crafts called Penland, located in the majestic hills of North Carolina. I've arrived at night and haven't yet gotten a true feeling and visual awareness of the place but I can already feel it; I can feel the creative calmness surrounding this place. All the leaves are in their metamorphose of color, plastered in every direction. The cold has started to encroach on the bare parts of my skin like a chilled cucumber resting on my neck. I am so ready to be in the country. I've been visiting friends in cities all the way down from Maine, and my country bumpkin soul was starting to crave the forest. The first moment of real silence has hummed its tiny tune.
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On my way down I felt compelled to see the nation's Capitol, Washington, D.C. -- where freedom is made! Not solely because my father had been pestering me to go there, but because I honestly believe it would be a healthy thing to do. We as the people of this country find it so easy to bash Washington and the Government without hesitation. It's so easy to just point our ridged finger over there from Texas or Maine or Alaska, and yet there are many many citizens who have never even seen the place. It's heavy in the most awe powerful way, Romanesque even. The massiveness of the buildings with thousands of suited up politicians all milling in and out like ants, the phallic monument in the middle of everything and the heart wrenching sight of the thousands of names engraved on the black stone of the Vietnam memorial, everything has an element of seriousness. And all together can even give one a sense of appreciation for what our country original stands for.....in some weird nostalgic way. No matter what side of the political line you fall on, it's hard not to honor all the efforts of the people in Washington at least trying to make a change. I tried to soak it all up as I walked around the grounds of the Capitol Mall, my feet aching from a lack of movement, while these people with super strong, fit bodies jogged and sprinted past me. Each militant model that strode by I felt fatter and fatter and fatter; nor was the pork sandwich I had for lunch helping to lift my diminishing self image.
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Dear New York City,
Well, I've got much to say to you. Not sure where to start my dear. Whether tis nobler to flush your skin with compliments and end with distain, or start with your faults and finish with the sweetness of peaches nestled on your lips. Who's to say? But for now I'll start by telling you that I admire your resilience, your ability to function forever with never a need to rest, and the amperage that you gallop through the night is beyond my comprehension. I respect that about you. It's not my cup of tea, but I appreciate that characteristic. But dearest New York City......you've been a bad bad girl. You've done things that I for one would never mention to your father, never even confess to the priest. Your mischief fueled mid-nights have gotten you in a pickle that could never be kosher. I would seek help, professional therapy; and please don't take this the wrong way, I love you, but madness dances in your insomniatic palm. Artistic creation floods forth from your streets as equal to the two rivers that caress both your sides. You, my dearest beloved NYC, are a royal Queen who has taken all the candy from the global piñata and stolen the lightning from Zeus. Please do take care of yourself my friend, there may be harder times ahead.
Love always and forever,
A Small Island in Maine
P.s. Send my regards to Brooklyn, he's growing up so fast.
“Hello, I must be going, I cannot stay,
I came to say, I must be going.
I’m glad I came, but just the same,
I must be going.”
-Groucho Marx
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In Virginia I gave this wicked redneck a ride to the store for beer in his new black truck.
"Step on this old girl!!" He howled as I pulled out of the 7/11.
"She's got some power huh? I call him Bernie" he explained.
"Ayut, she got juice, way more than my slow 33 year old diesel Mercedes"
"What'd ya name her?" And before I could even respond he sternly stated, "She looks like a Veronica to me" He cracked open a cold fizzing beer as we pulled back into the drive way.
As he handed me my stipend of 6 discussing taquitos that I never asked for, I muttered to myself "Yer right, she does look like a Veronica." And that shall be her name from here on forth. And so, it has been written.
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I've become familiar with the movement of cars, the mystery of their exits and entrances, all shapes and sizes like the people of this planet. Some are huge colossal giants with mud mucked tires radiating testosterone and blind pride, and some are itty bitty Fiat type cars with baby wheels and minimal flash, having the essence of a half-dead gold fish. We all flow along the same paved river, in hopeful harmony. Painted guidelines bringing suggested order and street signs give us a dose of direction. Where are they all going? How are there so many people all going the same way as I am? It's absurd! Oh man!, the traffic jams are worse of a mind fuck then the actually loss of time it's creating. What's going on up there? A 10 car pile up? A headless moose? Mexicans selling roses blockading the highway letting no one pass until we buy a dozen? Just as far as one can see, bumper to bumper for miles. And then all of a sudden after hours and hours of inching along......it just frees up, like the invisible hand of god just released his grip, and next thing you know we're all going 75 again like it ain't no thang and have forgotten all about going 5 mph for the last 89 miles. It knots up my brain to even think of it.
And for the record, if we arn't allowed to put a cell phone to our ear while we're driving, then it should also be illegal to have a fucking dog sitting in your lap licking your face while you're driving!!
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