Capital of the World

Kurt Vonnegut referred to New York City as “the capital of the world” in passing, in Palm Sunday. The United Nations is headquartered there, so it makes sense in that regard. Immigrants came to Ellis Island, seeing the Statue of Liberty. King Kong attacked the Empire State Building. Terrorists brought down the World Trade Center as a symbol of American financial power, but Wall Street still functions in New York City. Who hasn’t heard of its five boroughs: Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens, and Staten Island? Or neighborhoods like Greenwich Village, Harlem, Bed-Stuy, SoHo? Or Central Park, Chinatown, and so on.

You can feel you are in the most important city in the world when in New York City. As Sinatra sang, “If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere” in a “city that doesn't sleep.” It may not be the cleanest or safest place on earth, but you feel like things are happening there. New music. New ideas. New people. New technology. New adventures. I have visited New York City eight times, and each of them was an adventure. The cast of characters includes my family, friends, actors, comedians, musicians, artists, and authors. I will describe them all, spending the most time on my sixth visit in 1984. I hope you enjoy reading them at least a fraction as much as I did living them.

My first time in New York City was in February 1972 in honor of my younger brother Nathan’s tenth birthday. I was 11, and we took the train with our dad from Washington, DC, where we lived. (See Boys’ Trip: New York City 1972, which is a transcript of my handwritten diary of that trip.) My second visit was during my senior year of High School. I was editor of the Wilson High School Beacon newspaper and went with a group of journalistic classmates to a Columbia University conference on high school journalism. It was March of 1978, and we took the train from DC. My notes from that trip have references to partying we somehow found time to do. 

In December of 1979, I was a sophomore at Northwestern University, at home in DC for winter break. I took the train to New York to visit my new girlfriend’s family on Long Island. I went from the train station to meet her at a Manhattan hotel where her father had arranged a (possibly charity) concert by Tony Orlando and Dawn. I got to see a few songs before they finished, including “Knock Three Times” and “Tie a Yellow Ribbon.” It was weird because I went to see The Who the night before at the Capital Centre near DC. At her parents’ house, her father showed me the first Sony Walkman cassette player I had ever seen or heard of. I think he may have given it to me.

On July 6, 1981, my band, The Front Lines, played at The Ritz in Manhattan. We were on a self-booked “East Coast tour”. You can read about that at Strejcek.net/bands.

In July of 1983, I took a Greyhound bus to New York City, visited my high school friend Gabriel, whose family had moved to Brooklyn, then took the train to DC. I played The Front Lines single for Gabriel and his younger brother Jem. Jem was impressed and/or skeptical that it was actually my band. The band was almost history by then. In the evening, we walked around Greenwich Village with beer cans in paper bags, which was legal (or winked at). Concealed carry? We saw comedy elder statesman Henny Youngman (king of the one-liner) standing outside the Comedy Cellar or some such club. Gabriel said something to him and Henny’s retort was clever. Too bad I can’t remember either line. Walking near Times Square, I bought counterfeit batteries at a table on the sidewalk. It was a tourist rite of passage in NYC. To be clear, I didn’t know the batteries were counterfeit when I bought them. I can’t be sure this happened on that trip to the city. The last four lines sound like a joke without a punch line.

However, my most memorable – and at my age that means something – visit was in May of 1984. I was two years out of college. The band I had been in had broken up. My college roommate Neil had gone to LA for a PR job, and had returned to Evanston, having lost weight and gained a leather jacket, driving a Volvo P1800. Roger Moore drove one in the 1960s TV show The Saint. After some time, we both had somewhat stable jobs.

We decided to go on a road trip to New York City and Washington, DC. We would visit two friends separately. He would stay with his college friend Rob, and I would stay with Gabriel. We would continue to DC so I could attend the wedding of my friend John Berger. We didn’t have lots of vacation, so it would be a long Memorial Day weekend, leaving Tuesday night after work, returning on Memorial Day. Three vacation days, two weekend days, one holiday: almost a week!

However, we would not drive the P1800, but in Neil’s Chevy Citation, handed down by his aunt. It was just as well. Neil and I had a double date once, going in the P1800, my date and I sitting facing each other on the back seat, which was really a shelf. It was a sporty car designed for two, not four. 

   

Left: Neil and his P1800, c. 1983. Right: an old Chevy Citation ad, not Neil’s blue two-door.

Tuesday, May 22, 1984:

After our respective workdays, Neil picked me up in the Citation. I didn’t have a car. We both still lived in Evanston. We drove to the old Thai Hut on Devon Avenue in Chicago for dinner. We wanted some spicy food to keep us awake. We drove all night from Chicago to New York. I assume we took turns, sleeping fitfully in shifts, chatting, listening to mix tapes on the car cassette player.

As we approached the New York City skyline (which still had the World Trade Center), we listened to “Feats Don’t Fail Me Now,” by Little Feat, on the car tape deck:

Don't the sunrise look so pretty,
Never such a sight
Like rollin' into New York City
With the skyline in the morning light
Roll right through the night 

We had rolled through the night and were seeing that skyline in the morning light. It was really quite cinematic and still vivid in my mind’s eye. It was now:

Wednesday, May 23, 1984:

Neil and I separated in Manhattan at lunch time. He took the car and met Rob for lunch. I took the subway with Gabriel to Brooklyn, where he lived with his parents.

I think I slept on the couch. I don’t remember dinner. I think I was exhausted.

Thursday, May 24, 1984:

In the morning, Gabriel and I took the subway into Manhattan and Times Square. There was a tent-looking set-up with railings to keep people in line. It was TKTS, where you could buy same-day tickets to Broadway shows. Like standby airline tickets, you picked from whatever was left (or left behind). We ended up buying tickets to Noises Off for that night, at 8 pm, for us and Neil and Rob.         

Gabriel, though living in New York, had not been up the Empire State Building. I had been there in 1972 (see Boys’ Trip: New York City 1972), so I convinced him to go with me. We may have walked there, which is not too far, but maybe we took the subway. In New York, the subway goes everywhere, and in Manhattan, many things are walkable.

On the way, we saw Linda Hunt on the street. We didn’t greet her or anything. She had won the Best Actress Oscar in ‘82 for The Year of Living Dangerously. It was remarkable at the time because the role was a Filipino man, and she was neither a man nor Filipino. I later found out she was playing Audrey Wood in End of the World at Broadway’s Music Box Theater.

We arrived at the Empire State Building. It was a clear day, and we went up to the open-air observation deck. I don’t remember it costing anything, but it wasn’t the $44 they’re charging now.

We met the Six Million Dollar Man on top of the Empire State Building. A film crew was there. An assistant director walked over to us and said that they were filming a movie and that we could stay there, just don’t look at the camera. Up walked actor Lee Majors, tall, hale and hardy in a Texas cowboy outfit. He said “It’s called The Cowboy and the Ballerina. I’m the ballerina, ha ha!” He tipped his cowboy hat and went back to do his scene. We walked over to the railing and looked out at the horizon. When we heard “Action!”, we made sure not to turn around.

Months later, I saw the made-for-TV movie on CBS broadcast TV. Sure enough, towards the end of the movie, there’s a scene atop the Empire State Building. For a second, you can see Gabriel and me in the background. You might even recognize us if you know what we looked like from behind forty years ago. Trivia note: Christopher Lloyd was in the movie, with a small part, this being the year before his breakout hit, Back to the Future. He was not present the day we were there.

After all that, Gabriel, Neil, Rob, and I went to see Noises Off, which was a successful comedy, in that not only did we laugh, but it ran for hundreds of performances and was nominated for a Tony award. Of course, if it had won, I would not have mentioned that it had been nominated. (Similar to how a beer that is “one of the top three beers in Japan” must be the third.) Anyway, in the first act, you see a dress rehearsal of Act One of a fictional stage play (Nothing On) where many things go wrong. In the second act, you see the same Act One, but from backstage, where more errors occur and nerves fray. In the third act, the same Act One completely falls apart. “Noises off,” by the way, is a scripted stage direction for the audience to hear offstage noise.

In late-breaking news, I learned that Noises Off was running at Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre through October 23. Coincidence?

Friday, May 25:

On Friday afternoon, we decided to go into the city to see Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom which had just been released. It was also near Times Square, where we saw a commotion. A group of people looked to be surrounding a speech or rally there. We tried to shoulder our way into the crowd to get an idea of what was up. Gabriel sees someone in a brown uniform and says maybe it’s some neo-Nazis. We finally got to see through the crowd that it was Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd in jumpsuits. There was a camera, and a small film and production crew.

It turns out they were filming part of the music video for the Ghostbusters theme song, a movie which would be released two weeks later, but of which we were unaware. Ray Parker, Jr. and the cast of Ghostbusters are in the video, which is mostly Parker and a female model and some scenes from the movie. At the end, Parker, Murray, Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson, and Harold Ramis are walking in formation to the beat, lip synching. Murray does some fake break-dancing.

Then we went on to the movie theater. The second Indiana Jones movie was not as good as the first, in our opinion. Bugs instead of snakes. Kate Capshaw instead of Karen Allen. Thugees instead of Nazis. Child sacrifice instead of world war. A heart gets ripped out of a living person, which was different, and led to a new MPAA rating: PG-13. It was a prequel, and I have trouble now remembering the location. I had thought it was in China, but Wikipedia reminds me that it started there, but most of it took place in India. Like many sequels, it seemed to have a different purpose than the original.   

That evening, we saw Chicago’s Second City improv group perform at the Village Gate Downstairs. Their show was titled “Orwell That Ends Well.” It included some performers I had seen in Chicago: Meagan Fay, Rick Thomas, and John Kapelos; and Northwestern alum Richard Kind, among others. We thought we saw Treat Williams in the audience. Outside, I saw an old girlfriend and went over to say hi. She was there with her boyfriend, who was still inside. It was awkward. After we left, Gabriel says, laughing, “You are a wild man.”

“What?”

“You were humming ‘Torn Between Two Lovers’ while she was talking. More like singing it.”

Songs often subconsciously enter my mind at weirdly appropriate – or inappropriate – times. Sometimes it’s a blessing. Sometimes it’s a curse. I should have had that looked at.

Saturday, May 26:

Saturday morning, I said goodbye to Gabriel and his family and reassembled with Neil. Neil and I had planned to drive to DC, and Rob and another NU alum, Didier, decided to join us. It’s four to five hours to drive from New York City to Washington, DC. I had a wedding to attend in suburban Rockville, Maryland, that night at 7:30. We passed the time recounting our NYC adventures, then playing a memory game, which I don’t remember. However, Rob recently filled in the blanks for me. You start with a word, then each player adds a word, having to remember all the previous words, up to 100 words. One player sits out and writes down all the words as referee. My guess is that Rob was the winner.

The remaining memories of this adventure are sketchier, in the original meaning of sketchy, as in not fully drawn, but only in outline.

We arrived in northwest DC, near the border with Bethesda, Maryland. I directed us to a deli on Wisconsin Avenue there, named Booeymonger. In line, I said I would order a toasted poppy-seed bagel with cream cheese. Rob was doubtful that they could make it like the storied New York City delis. Would they use enough cream cheese? Yes, they laid a slab on each half. I dare say Rob was impressed.

I recommended the Jefferson Memorial, and we visited it. It’s a little away from the Mall, where the main attractions are – Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, the reflecting pool. Putting aside Jefferson’s own slave-owning history, his words carved on the walls, including part of the Declaration of Independence, can still affect me. Knowing his slaving past, some of the quotes are just puzzling.

I borrowed my mother’s car to get to the wedding, I think. I remember being at the wedding in Rockville, Maryland, but recall nothing about a meal or drinking. John and I are pictured below. I think I stayed at my mom’s house in DC, and Neil may have stayed with Didier, whose family lived in DC. Maybe Rob stayed there too. 

John Berger and me at his wedding.

John was the original bassist for The Lines (later renamed The Front Lines), whose story is told with haphazard detail elsewhere. He left Northwestern after freshman year and continued later at the University of Maryland, and now is Dean of the Energy and Materials Program at the Colorado School of Mines.

Sunday, May 27:

On Sunday, I had lunch with my dad, Barry, and Yvonne, his second wife, and Brendan, my half-brother who was three at the time. We went to the Smithsonian and walked around the Mall and environs. Brendan, 20 years younger than me, seemed more like a nephew at the time.

Monday, May 28:

I think I took a bus back to Chicago leaving DC at 1:30 a.m. That would get me into Chicago at 9:30 pm. How did Neil get back to Chicago? Did he drive Rob back to NYC, perhaps with Didi? It would take over 12 hours to drive from DC to Chicago. He can’t remember either.

Further New York Visits

Since 1984, I have been to New York City several times. In October of 1987, I was working at Paul Baker Typography in Evanston. Paul, vice-president Katie Houston, and I attended Type 1987, held by the Type Directors Club at the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Manhattan. This was back when typography and fonts were valued as an art form and not ubiquitous and taken for granted. On an open evening, Gabriel and I went to see The Princess Bride, which had just opened. We had driven from Chicago to San Francisco in July of that year, so I brought him a second copy of all the photos I took from our western adventure. He told me that he wished he had taken more pictures on the rest of his quest, which circumnavigated the continental United States, starting in New Haven. I think Gabriel should write about that.

Gabriel at the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, when we visited in 1987.

In July of 1988, I flew into New Haven, and with Gabriel, drove to New York. I had decided to attend the New Music Seminar, organized by College Media Journalism. I took demos of the band I was in then, Friendly Fire. I think I saw Northwestern classmate Scott Byron there. I picked up two promotional T-shirts of the Love & Rockets band. After that, we drove to Toronto, stopping at Niagara Falls, and stayed with a friend of his. We went to see Robert Gordon at a small club. My main memory is that Gordon arrived quite late, which apparently was normal for him. From Toronto, I flew back to Chicago, where my new girlfriend Cathleen was.

In April of 2009, I went to Long Island for the CA (formerly Computer Associates) Architect’s Conference. I never actually touched NYC, flying from Chicago to Philadelphia, then to Islip. There was a wonderful, somewhat unlikely, presentation by Benjamin Zander, conductor of the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra. Among the things he tried convey to us were: that in the problem of connecting 9 dots with 4 straight lines, we are often told to think outside the box, however there is no box; that modern orchestras perform Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony slower than the allegro con brio instruction, which Zander conducts faster; that Bach signed his compositions “Soli Deo Gloria” or “for God’s glory alone.” He shared that last tidbit after he had a student cellist perform a Bach cello solo, live in the room. He related some moving life lesson stories. He closed by having us all sing Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” a capella, and I think in German. He managed to loosely connect all of this to the creativity that software developers need to succeed. It was the most memorable workshop at the conference and one of the best music lessons I ever had.

Epilogue

Forty years later, Neil and I are still friends, still live near Chicago, and see each other now and again. At least once a year, except during lockdown. My wife Cathleen and I attended Neil and Edie’s first son’s wedding in July, and Rob was there too! Neil has had nine nonfiction books published, writes for the Chicago Sun-Times, and his daily blog Every Goddamn Day. Rob wrote and drew for years at Games magazine, and cartoons for The New Yorker. Gabriel has written one nonfiction and five fiction books, and teaches in the Writing Program at Pratt Institute, in Brooklyn, where he lives. Me, I went from studying journalism, to graphic arts and setting type, to database administration, to technical writer, to “technical materials developer.” I married Cathleen (see How I Met Your Grandmother), had two sons, and the first now has three sons, making us triple grandparents.   

References

Vonnegut, Kurt, Palm Sunday, Delacorte Press, New York, 1981, p. 319

Opening photo from iloveny.com.

Boys’ Trip: New York City 1972

My first time in New York City was in February of 1972 (Presidents Day weekend) in honor of my younger brother Nathan’s tenth birthday. I was 11-and-a-half, and our sister Mardi was only two-and-a-half, so she stayed home with our mother, Jody. We took the train with our dad, Barry, from Washington, DC, where we lived. I took notes, which are neither very deep nor descriptive, but I share them here verbatim, with a few bracketed explanations. Pictures of the diary follow the transcript. 

Diary of New York Trip.

Sat. February 19, 1972

AM 7:15 – We have boarded the train. Barry forgot the book on N.Y. and the map and schedule. Anyway we were lucky to catch the train. We thought there was going to be a blizzard the night before. The news said 6-12 inches of snow. In the morning it said 2-6 inches. Anyway it is snowing hard. 

Later\\ (8:30 ? 9:20) We went to the Snack Bar. Nathan stayed at seat. Barry got a coffee, and Nate and I got Cokes and Yankee Doodle cupcakes. I finished The Phantom of the Opera and read “The Magician”, from the book Ghouls. 

\\ We’re in the hotel now. In room 1240 and floor 12. It has 2 baths, 2 small beds, and a foldout couch – which Barry is sleeping on. 

\\ 10:00 now  The first place we went to was Polk’s Hobby Shop which we walked to from our hotel (Penn-Garden). Nathan got a B-24, a B-17 Flying Fortress, and a Lockheed SR-71. I got a B25B and a Tiger Shark [probably Revell plastic model warplanes]. Then we took a bus to FAO Schwarz. Then we went to a restaurant and had lunch. We walked to Lincoln Center. We saw a movie theater before (Paramount) and the movie was Patton. We decided to see the 7:00 show. After Lincoln Center we took a subway to 42nd St. We saw a lot of theaters. There was a movie called The Return of Count Yorga but we went to Playland [arcade of pinball, pachinko, animatronic fortune-tellers, and other pre-computer games] instead of it. We went to two of them and had a lot of fun. Then we went to see Patton. It was real good. Then we took a subway to the Hotel and ate in the Coffee Shop. Then we went to bed.

 

Sunday, February 20, 1972

We’ve checked out today. We’ve packed up. For breakfast I had an egg, toast, and grapefruit. Then we walked to the Empire State Building. It has 102 floors. [We did go to the observation deck.] Then we took a Taxi to South Ferry, where we took the ferry to the Statue of Liberty. [We did climb up to look out of the crown.] When we came out I tripped and hurt my knees. [Snow was covering a short curb.] It hurt my right knee all day. Then, after we took the ferry back, we took the subway to 42nd St., then walked to the U.N. We took a 45 min tour there. We had a sundae in their Coffee Shop. We took a Taxi to 42nd. We watched a movie called Murders in the Rue Morgue. They did a lot of head-chopping. Then we took the subway to Penn Central Station. I had a hot dog, french fries, and a Coke. The 7:30 train came at 8:22. Good night.

\\\\    It’s 11:45 or something like that. Pretty soon we’ll be home. 

\\\\    It’s 1:30 now. The train didn’t get home till 12:30. I’m home now and I’m going to sleep. Bye-Bye

THE END

 

[Actual photos of diary follow]

 

Our RV Adventure, Day 9: Conclusion

(To start from the beginning, see Our RV Adventure: Introduction.)

Thursday, May 9, Naperville, Illinois

In the morning, I take a ladder outside and climb up to see if the paint smudge from the drive-through awning comes off the cab overhang. It does! I don’t bother trying to do anything about the several thousand splatted bugs up there. We pre-payed for cleaning the RV inside and out. Plus, a special pet cleaning fee. And for a final dump and flushing out of the gray and black water holding tanks. Did I mention that RV rental is not a money-saving endeavor?

We have to get the RV back to Carol Stream by 11 am. They don’t open until 10:30. We stop for gas in Wheaton and I’m amazed that it takes another 12 gallons of gas. Later, I will do the math to find out that we got just over 9 MPG. We drove 2,209 miles.

Later, we return the one drinking water hose we did not use, the water filter, toilet paper, and chemical to Walmart. We keep the hose we did use and the gloves.

Now that we're home safely, let's consider this adventure.

Cost/Benefit

I have mentioned that an RV trip is not a money-saving endeavor. The RV rental, including extra mileage, optional generator use, tire blowout insurance, general cleaning, pet cleaning fee, holding tank cleaning; gasoline; four nights of campgrounds; food; and tolls; cost over $3000. (All of these costs were anticipated.) I estimate that doing the same thing in our car, including gas, tolls, five nights in hotels, buying four lunches and five dinners, would cost about $1200. 

What benefits does an RV offer over a car? 

• Convenience of not unpacking and packing at 5 hotels or homes
• Convenience of having our own fridge 
• Cooking (or bringing) healthy food instead of buying and eating fast food
• Not having to impose the cats on our hosts 
• Walmart dry camping could not happen with a car.  
• Camping, even in a KOA, is closer to nature than a hotel or motel.
• It's a completely different experience, and we have now had it once.

Let's face it, the only reason to travel by RV is because you want to. As with any travel destination or adventure, it has to draw you. My purpose is not to convince anyone one way or the other, just to report our experience, and possibly entertain a few friends. 

Lessons Learned

• We should have taken two weeks to allow for full day visits and to not have back-to-back heavy driving days.
• It takes a long time to load the RV before embarking. 
• We are certainly older, and maybe wiser as far as RV knowledge goes.
• I don’t quite feel like a trucker, but I feel their pain.
• If there’s a next time, I’m getting a trucker’s atlas.

Themes that Emerged during the Trip

Sweet: Cathleen had taken to calling “Be sweet!” to Dusty when he fights with Tallulah (as in the Roy Blount book, Be Sweet). In Pennsylvania we ate at The Bittersweet Kitchen. We stayed in Sweetwater, Tennessee. We had sweet (potato) fries in Sewanee. We avoided sweet tea in the south. Cathleen says that in her devotional time, God had been teaching her about the spiritual aspects of bitter and sweet and how it applied to herself and some family members.

Sunshine: Cathleen’s phone knows her as “Sunshine.” “Good night, Sunshine,” it says. We drove the Sunseeker RV model. In Indiana, the Sunshine Café was closed. Just before leaving on this trip, I purchased Bruce Springsteen’s latest song, “Hello Sunshine.” And there was a lot of sun on this trip, which was nice after months of rain.

Conclusion

Am I glad we had this RV adventure? Definitely. Family is important. Travel is always an adventure.

Would we have another RV adventure? Writing this account of the trip turned me more in the direction of saying yes. Overall, we had a good time, good visits, and the driving was not as hard is it could have been.

Cost aside, it would be better if we could take more time, alternating driving days with visit days. As for cost, if we were to make a habit of RV trips, it would make economic sense to buy a used RV rather than renting one.

We have definitely learned some hard lessons about our age, our limits, and how RV travel works. But those are things which we were actually warned would happen on our first RV trip. Any subsequent trip would happen from a position of experienced RVers.

I have found myself looking at different RV options since then. Teardrop trailers, van conversions, Class C RVs with slide-outs, Class A RVs. New versus used. Old versus older. Trailers require at least an SUV, maybe a pickup truck to tow them. Cathleen would want an RV that is less rattle prone, less bouncy. It was hard for our cats, for our bones, and our psyches. Perhaps a Class A or a trailer?

Last summer, when our younger son moved to Pennsylvania, we gave him my old Honda Civic as a college graduation gift. We decided to try to get by with one car and have done so since then.

Maybe our second car should be an RV?

However, we are not planning on renting or buying an RV in the immediate future. Instead, we are focused on our impending grand-parenthood. Perhaps that could be a subject for a future blog or two...

Our RV Adventure, Day 8: Cruise Control

(To start from the beginning, see Our RV Adventure: Introduction.)

Wednesday, May 8, Lebanon, Tennessee 

Before 5, roosters crow. They are anticipating, not informing us of the dawn. Then the cats use the litter box and require feeding.

At 6:47, I wake up before the 7:00 alarm. We will drive all the way back home today.

At first, I feel like a shower, then I decide it’s too much trouble moving the space heater tower and bucket with mop, broom, and cleaning supplies out and back in to the shower where we store them.

We decide that we will not launch before breakfast as we did two days ago. Cathleen wants to tour the farm before we go. We see horses, chickens, goats, sheep. They have six acres here, including a horse-riding ring. Donna gives us two dozen farm-fresh eggs for the road.

Cathleen and Donna look at the goats and other animals. Below:Horse and riding ring.

         

We leave at 10, and take the route that Donna recommends, with which Google Maps agrees. We’ll be on some relatively small state routes but avoid Nashville and the Interstate until Kentucky.

KY101 is built on a berm with deep ditches or drop-offs on either side. It seems narrow when oncoming pickup trucks speed by. A small turtle looks to cross the road. Good luck. We see many butterflies, gold and black, and pretty gold meadows, but white-knuckle hills.

Even when we get to I-65, we still have big Kentucky hills. Can't wait for good old flat Indiana, cruise control country.

It was 80+ degrees in Tennessee, but the forecast high in Naperville today says 67.

Cathleen takes over driving at a gas station. The easiest way to get out is around the fast food drive-through, but a semi comes the wrong way around and Cathleen gets too close to the order window overhang. Hopefully no real damage to the RV over the driver seat. (There was a bit of paint which wiped off easily.)

The Abraham Lincoln Bridge over the Ohio River into Indiana is a cool white cable-stayed bridge. I didn’t realize it at the time, what with I-Pass, but there’s a toll.

The Abraham Lincoln Bridge over the Ohio River between Kentucky and Indiana. 

We intend to stop at one rest area, but it’s full of trucks, with one blocking the entrance to the RV/truck parking. We back up and drive through the car area without stopping.

Later, I’m driving. There’s some kind of convoy, consisting of trucks from Rain-Blo, Amazon Prime, and Morehouse. The latter one passes me, annoying. Later, I am passing, and I pause when I see a speed trap. “What did you do? Were you speeding?” Cathleen demands. “You’re allowed to exceed the speed limit when passing someone who is going slower than the speed limit,” I say. “No,” she says. “That is illegal.” No comment. Other than that, I’m on cruise control.

We are hungry, and excited when Cathleen finds that Sunshine Café is at an upcoming exit and has received good reviews. Unfortunately, it is closed due to a water outage. We can’t quite sort out the symbolism there. We get back on the interstate.

We are an hour south of Indianapolis. I say we should power through to get by Indy before rush hour. I am assuming we are on Central Time as we had been in Sewanee and Lebanon, Tennessee, looking at the RV radio clock. I should know better that most of Indiana is Eastern except the 12 counties in the northwest and southwest. Indiana used to ignore Daylight Saving Time, but no more. So, it’s an hour later here than I thought. We don’t run into too much traffic in Indianapolis however. Later, at 5:30 Eastern Time, we eat at Arby’s in Rensselaer.

Cathleen with the RV in Rensselaer, Indiana. 

Cathleen is driving. Our timing for arriving in the morass of intersecting interstates where northeast Indiana meets “Chicagoland” is not bad. We get to Chicago. On I-294, I ask “Did someone shell this highway with mortars?” I always prefer the newer I-355, but Google Maps always prefers this.

We arrive at home before 8 pm, 10 hours from Lebanon, and only 2 more than Google Maps said.

Unpacking takes slightly less time than packing. We start out in the twilight, and it rains a bit before we’re done. The cats are surprised and excited to be home. I wonder what their little cat brains are thinking. “Was this all some kind of joke?” “Is this The Wizard of Oz?”

In Naperville, there is an overnight street parking ban. You can call the non-emergency police number and tell them if you or a guest have to park on the street. Then they won’t ticket you, for up to three days. Around Thanksgiving, they don’t enforce it, and if you are resealing your driveway, and it’s obvious, they won’t ticket you. I go to the trouble of calling in the RV, but Cathleen says I should ask if we can block our driveway. I do, and they say no, you can’t. After hanging up, I decide to park in the driveway, even though it’s on an incline. I set the parking brake.

I’m supposed to work tomorrow, and also return the RV, so it’s off to bed.

To be concluded... 

Our RV Adventure, Day 7: Fine Arts and Farms

(To start from the beginning, see Our RV Adventure: Introduction.)

Tuesday, May 7, Sweetwater, Tennessee 

At 3:47 am, the cats are restless.

At 6:15, I wake without an alarm, feed the cats, and make breakfast.

A songbird lands on our roof and sings. The roof vent is open. The campsite is peaceful, and even though we are in a steel and wood house that is also a gasoline-burning vehicle, we are in nature. The quiet hours policy is working well right now. We are not late, or hurried, or exhausted.

As I eat my oatmeal, Dusty sneakily reaches up to the table to playfully paw at my cup of vitamins.

After breakfast, I unhook, we pack, and drive to the dump station. Piece of cake.

We are two hours from Sewanee, where we will lunch with my Aunt Sally, Uncle Ed, and cousin Malia.

It’s a beautiful view of Chattanooga from the Interstate. The Tennessee River is wide. We briefly cross into Georgia. We start going uphill because Sewanee is almost 2,000 ft up.

Sewanee basically is the University of the South, at least since 1857. Ed and Sally, retired teachers, live on the campus, which is beautiful, especially in early May. Ed had been the chairman of the art department there. We consider parking on the street in front of their house but there is a No Parking sign. They have a semicircular drive in front of their house, so they suggest that we back up the RV into one side, and we can drive their car out of the other side. Backing up into the driveway requires Ed directing traffic on the street and Cathleen directing me from behind while I drive. We take a few branches off their heavily wooded drive, but seem not to have damaged the RV. Later I will climb up the RV ladder in the back and use a broom to brush a branch off the RV roof.

The RV parked in the Carlos driveway. 

The RV is in the shade, and we open the windows and roof vents, so we feel like we can leave the cats there while we go to lunch. We drive to the Golf Club for lunch. Malia, who is Mardi’s age, meets us there. She teaches and chairs the English Department at St. Andrew’s-Sewanee School, an Episcopal prep school related to the University, where her mother Sally taught mathematics for years. We trade family updates: school, significant others, our impending grandparenthood. I have a burger and yummy sweet (potato) fries. It's a nice day, and a nice time together. We have our goodbyes with Malia, and leave with Sally and Ed. 

Green's View scenic overlook from Sewanee, Tennessee. 

We drive past a scenic overlook (Green's View) on the way back to their house. We check on the cats, who are fine, and will stay in the RV. We will now go to Ed’s “Iona Art Sanctuary,” a few miles down the road.

Ed and Sally’s Ford 15-passenger van has the same Ford E-350 engine and chassis as our RV. This is funny because Sally had asked me if the RV would be bigger than their van and I didn’t know it was the same cab. Of course, the RV is bigger – taller, wider, and longer – due to the house built onto the back. I looked this up later: the passenger van weighs 6,432 pounds empty, while the RV is 12,500 pounds empty.

Ed will take me and the dogs in the van, while Sally and Cathleen follow in the car. The dogs are Willa, who has only three legs; Babe, who is smaller; and Echo, a lap dog. The dogs run around the van trying to stick their heads out of the windows unless I pet them. When we arrive, they run around the field joyfully. Ed, who is 81, is surprisingly comfortable driving this van down the country road. I have to remind him to put on a seat belt, which he seems to find a burden.

Echo and Babe in the sanctuary.

IONA: Art Sanctuary is a large (about 70 x 80 feet), peaked-roof, insulated, steel storage building, set back from the road. Ed had it built starting in 2005. There is a large field behind it, lower. The main entrance faces west to the field, with 12 steps down to it. About 100 feet from the foot of the stairs is a Shinto Torii gate – an entrance to the spiritual world, walking either to or from the structure. Over the entrance hovers a life-size guardian angel sculpture. Inside, the first thing you see is a life-size multi-racial creche of sculptures, surrounded by 12 luan wood and tile-board sheets sheets called “GALAXY.” The framed rectangles each have hole puncture arrays resembling constellations, meant to be viewed with light peeking through them. 

Inside the creche GALAXY. 

GALAXY creche panels.

The walls of the various rooms are covered in Ed’s paintings, drawings, and mixed media. The east end of the building is set up with a podium and seating for poetry readings and presentations. Facebook has an IONA page with many photos of artwork and the building.

Podium for poetry, presentations, and art.

Currently, Ed is working on an installation of 13 metal sheets outside, similar to those inside, named “The Celestial Sky – Messiah.” My cousin Aaron, who we will not see today, has been helping Ed extensively. We got to see Aaron and three of his children over Christmas break in 2016 when we were visiting my mom in DC.

  

Carlos' latest art installation in progress at IONA: Art Sanctuary. Sally is walking to its left. 

Ed says that most of his art has been inspired by encounters he has had with angelic spirit beings. He had once thought they were aliens, but no longer. He now calls them "living beings or angels - i.e., as hayyot" as in the biblical book of Ezekiel. As a Christian, I believe in angels, so why not? As Clarence says in It’s a Wonderful Life, “Don’t they believe in angels? Then why should they be surprised when they see one?” On the other hand, angels in the Bible are nothing like Clarence.

A turning point for Ed may have been two encounters he had on the isle of Iona, Scotland on Easter Sunday in 1990. The photograph and painting of it are called “Lightfall” (below).

Ed guides us around IONA, explaining these things. He also reiterates an offer he had emailed us two years ago: choose an artwork as an inheritance gift. We choose “Atziluth,” a 40" x 60" drawing with paint and china marker, layered mixed media, one of a series of four spiritual worlds. 

"Atziluth," depicting supernal light on water, on the wall in our house.

We take the painting in the van, back to their big old house, which they are rehabbing. We chat briefly in their dining room, but we have to leave to drive 90 minutes up to Lebanon, east of Nashville, to see Cathleen’s sister Donna and her husband Rich.

Between Sewanee and Lebanon, I see at least half a dozen roadkill armadillos. In Tennessee. Really?

Bridges everywhere are the worst for RVs: bumps, patches, potholes.

In Virginia and Tennessee, I’ve seen Attractions signs with nothing listed. There’s a claim to fame.

We are meeting Donna and Rich at Shoney’s in Lebanon for dinner. We wait out front. It’s a beautiful day.

I am about to ask about the large purse Donna is carrying. I perceive that it has a dog in it, which doesn’t make a peep the entire time we’re there.

We catch up on news. They will be performing in a wild west train robbery show as part of a country & western church ministry act with a gospel message. 

After dinner, we follow Rich and Donna in their pickup truck on increasingly rural roads to their hobby farm. It takes a little while to navigate backing up near their 30-amp hookup in the dark. They have had a succession of RVs, thus the hookup. After we get set in the RV, we join them inside their house for a jam session. The many dogs inside are not quiet at first, but Donna and Rich manage to calm them down. Three of us on guitars and Donna on violin. We start with “Folsom Prison Blues,” do some modern hymns, some Chris Tomlin, some classic hymns. We play one of ours, “Reconciled,” which Cathleen leads. We quit well after the planned 10 p.m. 

Back to the RV. We stay up too late, putting things away. Midnight. Set the alarm for 7 a.m.

The RV next to Donna and Rich's house, their vehicles, in front of the stable (taken the following morning).

To be continued... 

Our RV Adventure, Day 6: Early to Rise

(To start from the beginning, see Our RV Adventure: Introduction.)

Monday, May 6, Washington, DC  

At 2:53 a.m., the cats jump on the bed. I give them dry food and fall asleep again eventually.

At 5:00, our phone alarm clocks go off. I start moving around in my pajamas. Then there’s a knock on the RV door.

I say, “Yes?” thinking that it might be the police or an annoyed neighbor. It is my mother, fully dressed, asking if we want to go inside the house for anything. I slip on my shoes, open the door and say no thank you. I go out and give her a hug goodbye. She goes and sits on the front porch until we leave.

I begin to get curt with Cathleen as I get anxious. We need to be on Canal Road north of Chain Bridge before the police decide to roadblock it for Monday inbound rush hour. We pull away from the curb at 5:36 a.m.

Getting through Canal Road and Clara Barton Parkway works! At 6 a.m. both lanes will be inbound, and we would have had to go further afield. 

The DC Beltway to I-66 is smooth. By 6 am, inbound traffic is building. We are cruising in the opposite direction.

Appalachian foothills in the Virginia distance.

On I-81, the scenery is gorgeous. The distant mountains look like felt blankets dropped lazily, green with black accents from clouds. Before them are pillows of ground fog in the valleys.

We have breakfast in the RV at 7:30 am at a truck stop on I-81, in Mt. Jackson, Virginia. We get supplies, use the bathroom, and stretch, but we can’t get gas because they only have diesel. We go down the street to an actual Exxon for gas. The whole process takes over an hour. But we’ve made good progress, back on I-81 before 9 am, well clear of the DC rush hour.

We have already been in DC, Maryland and Virginia today, and plan to stay in Tennessee tonight. 

While driving, I notice many different license plates. By the time we get to Sewanee tomorrow, I will have seen plates for every state east of the Mississippi except Vermont, Rhode Island, and Wisconsin; plus, Texas, Kansas, Arkansas, Missouri, Nebraska, California, and Washington state.

As I’m driving, I sense something to my right, between Cathleen and me. It is Dusty the cat, walking up to visit us, as if to say “OK, I’m here now. I got myself out of that thing.”

“What?” I say. “How did he get out of his travel carrier?”

“He unzipped it with his nose, I think. His little nose is rubbed raw,” says Cathleen as she picks him up into her lap in the passenger seat. We will zip him back in at our next rest stop.

Later, Cathleen uses the bathroom while I’m driving. “Wobbly,” she calls it.

At noon, we phone app order lunch to pick up at a Panera Bread in Christiansburg, Virginia. We eat in the RV parked at the edge of the Panera lot in some shade. They leave the apple chips off the Fuji Apple Chicken Salad, so I walk back in to get some apple chips. They are apologetic. While there, I order a pumpkin muffin. They’re not apologetic enough to give it to me free, however.

The cats’ behaviors have evolved during the trip. They both seem to realize that we let them roam around the RV when we are stopped, and that we put them in the carriers before we move. However, they evolved differently. At Panera, Tallulah decides to hide under the driver’s seat, from which it is difficult to extract her. Subsequently, we will put a backpack in front of the seat when stopped. Dusty, in contrast, begins to present himself in front of his carrier when we are ready to go.

The speed limit is 70 mph on the interstate. In Virginia, a billboard informs us that exceeding 80 mph is considered reckless driving and will warrant a second ticket. We see several Virginia State Troopers openly aiming their radar guns at oncoming traffic. That’s fine with us because the RV does not seem too comfortable going 70 or faster. We are mostly in the slow lane.

About 1:40 pm, just north of Pulaski, Virginia, in the left lane, 8 white vehicles proceed quickly in tandem. All have Federal Protection Services in bold blue letters and a Homeland Security logo on their doors. All were sedans except the fifth which was an SUV. Looks like a prisoner relocation convoy. Cathleen looks for prisons on the map. The nearest is Marion Correctional Center. No other news was available. She hypothesizes, “maybe it’s el Chapo.”

Cathleen is driving when Google Maps warns of a vehicle fire on I-81 near Bristol. It suggests a detour through town that would save an hour. From Business 381 to smaller and smaller roads, when we can barely share the road with a mail delivery van, then back to Highway 421 and I-81. We did see a bright pink temporary sign stating “Emergency Situation Ahead” just before leaving I-81, so we can assume that we saved time. But we hadn’t actually seen a backup on I-81, or smoke. One mile later, we’re in Tennessee.

Three little words strike fear into the hearts of drivers: Road Work Ahead. However, though we have seen them several times today, the impact has been small and surgical, unlike Pennsylvania’s miles and miles of sometimes just vacant closed lanes.

Knoxville traffic is busy but moves quickly for rush hour.

We check in to the Sweetwater KOA at 6:24 pm, less than 13 hours after leaving DC. The clerk says my name perfectly. Cathleen is suspicious of that. I point out that he looks very similar to the Pennsylvania KOA clerk. Coincidence?

We hook up the RV, Cathleen cooks, and I investigate the campground shower situation. Most of the people here are older than us, except for a young couple with a baby in a backpack walking two dogs, one giant, one small.

After dinner - quinoa, cauliflower, peas, and chicken sausage - we put the cats in strollers and make a circuit of the camp. Many greetings are offered. Many weathered faces, I suspect from cigarettes, but maybe from sun or farming. Some RVs, the larger Class A models, have HD TVs mounted on the outside. Retirement-aged couples sit on lawn chairs watching TV with a campfire nearby.

Cathleen strolling the cats in Sweetwater, Tennessee. 

One couple is camping in just a tent, which is not the norm here. There is a variety of camping styles here, including tents and cabins. Most of the nature surrounds the campground. Our site has water, electric, and cable (which we don’t use – the TV is still face-down), but not a sewer hookup. We can dump the sewer holding tanks at the dump station before leaving tomorrow. We intend to leave hours before check-out, so there shouldn’t be a line or anything. Also, it’ll be Tuesday morning, not an obvious leaving time. Our site is a “Premier Site” due to the nice table and chairs on a paved area by the RV. Also, it is a “pull-through” rather a than a “back-in” site, making it easier to get in and go out.

After eating and walking around, we take showers in the office building by the pool. Yes, there is an outdoor pool, with your basic poolside showers and bathrooms. Then, I do the dishes.

I am surprised that after five nights sleeping in a strange RV bed, my back has been better than usual. No ibuprofen needed. It is a pillow-top Serta. For the sake of research, we should verify its worthiness for intimacy. We’re in bed by 10, asleep by 11.

To be continued...

Our RV Adventure, Day 5: Lazy Sunday

(To start from the beginning, see Our RV Adventure: Introduction.)

The RV in front of my mother's house in the rain. 

Sunday, May 5, Washington, DC  

I sleep well until twilight, when Dusty using the litter box awakens me. I get up and remove the evidence, add to their water, and add some dry food as a snack. I don’t know the time because my phone is dead.

We are planning to leave DC tomorrow morning. Cathleen thinks we should cancel tomorrow's reservation in Sweetwater, Tennessee, and reserve a closer KOA in Wytheville, Virginia. That would divide the drive to Tennessee in half, which is more realistic. I'm not sure how that will work, because the second day we want to see my aunt, uncle and cousins in Sewanee, and then go to Lebanon (east of Nashville) to see her sister and brother-in-law. She says we can’t drive 16 hours tomorrow (based on doubling the Google Maps estimate). I don't think it will take that long. I had thought we could solve this by leaving DC early tomorrow morning.

Cathleen is not feeling well. The arboretum tour involved hills and took a lot out of her. I suggest that we could cancel the Tennessee leg of the trip and go home from DC if necessary. I make her tea and an egg frittata in the RV. After breakfast, she feels better.

It turns out that it is too late to cancel the Sweetwater KOA, so I propose a compromise. We could leave before 6 a.m. tomorrow, then go as far as we can, be it Wytheville, Sweetwater, or elsewhere. We agree and go into my mom's house. 

We take real showers in the house. I do my full set of exercises for the first time since leaving home. I hesitate to call it a workout. It’s mostly exercises I learned from various physical therapists for various injuries over the years. It is particularly helpful to stretch all these muscles when driving great distances. 

While Cathleen takes a shower, my mom and I watch TV and chat. First some of Space Patrol, a 1950s black and white science fiction TV show, then some of a western TV show called Hondo (like the John Wayne movie). Later we will have some Hallmark movies on in the background as we chat, and she knits. 

We are too late to go to my mother’s church, so we watch a online service from Parkside Church in Ohio. We think my mom, with her McPherson heritage, might enjoy Alistair Begg's Scottish accent. As it turns out, a substitute preacher, Terry McCutcheon, is preaching with an even more pronounced accent. We have to help each other understand a few phrases. My brother Nathan said to call him after church, which ends up being almost 3:00 pm.

Nathan, his wife Stacey, my sister Mardi, and their kids arrive, and Mardi's husband Alberto after them. Mardi’s daughter had a couple of soccer games, but one was rained out, and Alberto had several games to coach, one rained out. Mardi tries to order from a Georgetown restaurant called Harmony, but it won’t deliver. We end up ordering from Bambu, as usual, which is fine. My mom says not to order her anything, but she ends up eating some, which is good. We play several games of Sequence, Mardi’s favorite, partly in honor of her birthday three days prior. I realize later that I failed to take any pictures of this. Cathleen helps my mom organize her medications and supplements.

Mom is upset that the children went into the RV. I say that it is locked so they can’t get in. She opens the front door of the house and emphatically points at the RV and says, “They’re in there!” I say “OK, calm down,” and go into the other room to check on the two kids. Their screens are there without them. Maybe they were raptured, I thought. But mom is right. I call Cathleen and she says she is giving them a tour of the RV. Thank you for reducing their screen time, Cathleen!

We sing “Happy Birthday” to Mardi. Some give gifts, but we donate to the Alzheimer’s Foundation as Mardi had requested on Facebook. Mardi gives us gifts to deliver to Conor & Laura’s baby shower.  

We hug everyone good night and say goodbye. Our plan is to wake up at 5 to get through the restricted inbound-only rush hour lanes before 6. It will be Monday, after all. We plan not to shower or eat before leaving. We are in the RV and asleep before 10.

To be continued...

Our RV Adventure, Day 4: Celebrate with Joy

(To start from the beginning, see Our RV Adventure: Introduction.)

Saturday, May 4, West Chester, Pennsylvania  

Cathleen wakes up at 5:22 am in response to the cats jumping and moving about restlessly. I was able to sleep through that, but not through her making them and herself breakfast. I go to the bathroom and flush a chemical pod down to the black water holding tank, which I forgot to do yesterday.

At 7, Cathleen says “I'm tired.” I say, “me too.” She says “You have to watch the cats. It’s your turn.” I complain about needing sleep too. We both fall asleep until 10.

Lots of beautiful bird songs in this campground, which is very rustic. Blue jays, cardinals, robins, sparrows, and many I don’t recognize.

Unhooking the RV is fairly quick. Flushing the black, then gray water tanks is almost fun! The order is important, by the way. Filling the freshwater tank was faster than I thought, to overflowing. Checkout is at noon, but I had thought it was 11. We actually check out at 12:30. I text Liam that checkout was 12, not 11. “Wasn’t that half an hour ago?” he asks. Ha ha. We stop at Target for bottled water, and I use the bathroom. We get to Liam’s at almost 2:00.

Hello, Joy! We greet Joy, who we met at graduation last May with her family, including parents, siblings, aunt, and grandparents. We liked all of them a lot. Joy also visited us from St. Louis last summer. They were both gymnasts in college and have been a couple since Valentine’s Day 2018. It has been a long-distance relationship since graduation.

We unload and reassemble the bike, put the cats in their strollers, and set them up in Liam’s apartment, as surreptitiously as we can.

The four humans eat a late brunch in town. I am tempted to get the French Toast BLT, but opt for a normal breakfast. We share jalapeno hush puppies. Liam treats us. My boy is all grown up!

After checking on the cats, we go to Tyler Arboretum. Liam is drawn to the tree house exhibit. In the "crooked goblin shack," Joy says it is very loud. And there are a lot of bees. Cathleen says they are the territorial Carpenter Bees, and to walk out slowly. Catastrophe is averted.

Kier, Joy, Liam, and Cathleen in front of the Crooked Goblin Shack.

We photograph Liam and Joy under a canopy of lilacs that Cathleen says looks like a chuppah. Joy gets the remark, but Liam not immediately.

    

Joy and Liam in the Tyler Arboretum. Kier & Cathleen copy them, emphasizing the lilacs.

Our favorite tree house is probably the one built like a giant Gibson acoustic guitar.

Gibson guitar themed tree house in the Tyler Arboretum. The head with the tuning pegs is on the left. 

Cathleen gets tired of all the walking. We should probably leave anyway because we are expected in DC tonight.

Cathleen in her birdhouse. 

We go back to Liam’s, get the cats, hug our hugs, say our goodbyes, and leave for DC. It is about 6 pm. My sister texts me, asking for an ETA, suggesting that we use something with GPS. I consider asking what GPS is or whether there’s an app for that but keep it to myself. Google Maps is most effective as a real-time traffic reporter and re-router. However, its time estimates assume that you are going at least the speed limit and not stopping. We are definitely not driving as fast as we would in a car, and we’re stopping more often. Things keep happening. Cathleen has decided that we should double the Google Maps time, based on our first two days driving. I think that’s a bit overstated.

We are only in Delaware for 21 miles, but we make a gas stop there. I overhear some motorcyclists joking a few pumps over. I can’t hear what they’re saying.

A few miles later, on I-95, as we drive a wide descending curve at 65 mph or so, a group of motorcyclists on smaller Japanese bikes, not Harleys, weave in and out of traffic heedlessly speeding, and rather recklessly. I’m sure that the group includes those from the gas station. They have red Spider-man logos on their black leather jackets.

As we approach Baltimore, we know that the two tunnels under the harbor do not allow vehicles with propane on board. A Good Sam campground directory advised using the Francis Scott Key bridge. As we approach it, we see are occasional warning signs for motorcycles that the bridge has open joints. For us, we get a sign saying, “All Vehicles over 5T GVW Must Use Right Lane.” Our RV is more then twice that weight. It seems pretty steep from the northern approach. Later, I find that it is 185 feet high. 

(See https://www.preservationmaryland.org/francis-scott-key-bridge-opens/ for more information.) It’s a little unnerving to look over the side. We survive. So far, that is our goal. 

The Francis Scott Key Bridge over Baltimore Harbor. 

Shortly thereafter, perhaps due to vibrations while crossing the bridge, something falls with a loud bang inside the RV. Cathleen gets up and finds the offending object. It’s a heavy piece of metal pipe, about 6” long and a half-inch in diameter. Cathleen is afraid that it might be part of the stove and wants to be sure I closed off the propane. Safety dictates closing the propane when driving, but apparently people often leave it on for heat or refrigeration. We have been closing it off when we drive.

We pull over at a rest stop to investigate. First, I get out and verify that the propane valve is shut. We look around, in, and under the oven for missing parts, but find nothing. We do see an old un-popped Jiffy Pop pan stuck behind a drawer. I turn around and notice that the TV that is mounted above the cab-overhead bunk has fallen onto the mattress, face down. The “pipe” is actually a large hinge-like part of the swivel TV stand which has somehow fallen apart. It could have been worse. The way the bunk folds over when driving has and will prevent the TV from sliding around on the mattress. It seems to be missing a small part or two, but we’re not interested in remounting it now. We get back on the road. There goes our ETA.

It’s May 4, so the Maryland Department of Transportation tried a “humorous” PSA on an LED sign:

TEXT YOU MUST NOT

MAY THE 4TH

BE WITH YOU

We had hoped to get to my mother’s house in the evening, but it’s almost 10. My brother and his son are there. Our nephew, now 13, is already taller than he was Christmas. His T-shirt says: “National Sarcasm Society: Like We Need Your Support.” He tells us about the geological layers of Earth and how some scientists want to drill into Hawaii, which is well-known to have volcanoes. He does not approve.

I warm up leftovers from the RV for us. Nathan has brought cinnamon rolls for dessert. 

My sister Mardi and Alberto arrive with their daughter, 11, who has trouble staying awake, having just returned from a class trip to King’s Dominion amusement park. She seems to sleep with one eye open for a while.

We bring them up to date on our adventure thus far. My mother is clearly tired, as are we, so we go to our bedroom on wheels before midnight.

To be continued...