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Nov. 13th, 2008
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The Blue Swallow Motel, Tucumcari, NM
Nov. 13th, 2008 11:26 pmTonight, I'm writing from the historic Blue Swallow Motel in Tucumcari, New Mexico, where the wireless stinks just like the other motels (thus still no photos) but at least this one is *far* more pleasant at which to stay. Also pricier, but after much soul-searching, I decided to forgo staying in one of the many, many cheaper/crappier motels/RV parks in favor of this place, which has been raved about in both ROAD TRIP USA and by SMITHSONIAN Magazine. Ah, the eternal struggle of life-experience versus budget. Mom has assured me that I'll have plenty more chances to sleep in the back of the minivan. I'd better!
It's been a crappy day and a half, though, and I finally realized why. Ever since I got past the utter one-two-three-and-one-again-punch of awesomeness that was Claremore, Oklahoma, things just went downhill. Ironic, because there are very few hills to speak of once you get halfway through OK and head through the Texas panhandle. Nothing bad happened, per se. That's just the problem, nothing happened at all! Of the few interesting Route 66 stops to be had in Texas, most were just too damn hard to track down while others were (like so many stops along the way) closed.
But the real problem, I realized, is that I hate the flatness. I really, really hate the flat, flat nothingness for as far as the eye can see. Part of the real fun of this trip has been that feeling of never knowing what's around the bend, that just the exploring was exciting. But here, there are no bends, just a horizon surrounding a hellish deadscape. Getting someplace is no longer a journey, but a task. A chore.
And the Texas sights all require driving for miles and miles off the main road. I wish I'd have thought to find these places on a map before I left rather than relying on ROAD TRIP USA, my GPS, and simply following Route 66, all of which have served me very well so far! But just trying to follow the directions of one sign into miles and miles of nothing with the hope of there possibly being something... I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
But the biggest disappointment was arriving, like, fifteen minutes after the Midpoint Cafe in Adrian, TX closed. ROAD TRIP USA said that this was one of the essential stops, that you can taste the happiness in their steak and pie. Denied. Utterly, utterly denied my steak and pie.
But as I drove off, frustrated and defeated toward Tucumcari, I noticed that the blinding and annoying setting sun had finally, finally gone past that maddening horizon, leaving a sunset that I would have missed had I been at the cafe. It's one of those things in nature that have inspired countless artists to try to capture and recreate for paintings sold in mall carts and the like, the kind of beauty that cannot be captured in art. And honestly, it's no happy-tasting steak-and-pie dinner... but a Texas sunset? That ain't a bad consolation prize.
Four days into Route 66, and my experience is half "utter joy and awesomeness and holy crap this is one of the greatest experiences of my life" and half "Get me the fuck out of Missouri/half of Oklahoma/the Texas panhandle."
On the plus side, I think I've come up with a new draft of THE HEFNER MONOLOGUES for the 2009 tour, and I'm really, really proud of it. It's a definite change from the format of the original, but it just might be the stronger, tighter, more immediately powerful and effective show. More to the point, it's a show I can now perform and feel like I'm doing it for the first time, with a fresh and current perspective. Yay for growth and progress! Assuming it's actually good.
It's been a crappy day and a half, though, and I finally realized why. Ever since I got past the utter one-two-three-and-one-again-punch of awesomeness that was Claremore, Oklahoma, things just went downhill. Ironic, because there are very few hills to speak of once you get halfway through OK and head through the Texas panhandle. Nothing bad happened, per se. That's just the problem, nothing happened at all! Of the few interesting Route 66 stops to be had in Texas, most were just too damn hard to track down while others were (like so many stops along the way) closed.
But the real problem, I realized, is that I hate the flatness. I really, really hate the flat, flat nothingness for as far as the eye can see. Part of the real fun of this trip has been that feeling of never knowing what's around the bend, that just the exploring was exciting. But here, there are no bends, just a horizon surrounding a hellish deadscape. Getting someplace is no longer a journey, but a task. A chore.
And the Texas sights all require driving for miles and miles off the main road. I wish I'd have thought to find these places on a map before I left rather than relying on ROAD TRIP USA, my GPS, and simply following Route 66, all of which have served me very well so far! But just trying to follow the directions of one sign into miles and miles of nothing with the hope of there possibly being something... I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
But the biggest disappointment was arriving, like, fifteen minutes after the Midpoint Cafe in Adrian, TX closed. ROAD TRIP USA said that this was one of the essential stops, that you can taste the happiness in their steak and pie. Denied. Utterly, utterly denied my steak and pie.
But as I drove off, frustrated and defeated toward Tucumcari, I noticed that the blinding and annoying setting sun had finally, finally gone past that maddening horizon, leaving a sunset that I would have missed had I been at the cafe. It's one of those things in nature that have inspired countless artists to try to capture and recreate for paintings sold in mall carts and the like, the kind of beauty that cannot be captured in art. And honestly, it's no happy-tasting steak-and-pie dinner... but a Texas sunset? That ain't a bad consolation prize.
Four days into Route 66, and my experience is half "utter joy and awesomeness and holy crap this is one of the greatest experiences of my life" and half "Get me the fuck out of Missouri/half of Oklahoma/the Texas panhandle."
On the plus side, I think I've come up with a new draft of THE HEFNER MONOLOGUES for the 2009 tour, and I'm really, really proud of it. It's a definite change from the format of the original, but it just might be the stronger, tighter, more immediately powerful and effective show. More to the point, it's a show I can now perform and feel like I'm doing it for the first time, with a fresh and current perspective. Yay for growth and progress! Assuming it's actually good.
