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thehefnerAs I drove onto the hellish outskirts of the freeway system, I had to wonder if what I was seeing was the smoke from the wildfires, or just the typical L.A. smog?
Howdy, folks. I am safely arrived in Burbank, California and staying with the awesome![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
adaptor, whom I met on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
metaquotes back when kali921 posted my account of the "Burt's Bees debacle." Who says the internet can't lead to a real social life?
So I finally can bring you photos! And for the sake of your sanity and mine, I've decided to break 'em up by days. Day One started off easy, exploding nose aside, and I was still getting into the shutterbug habit (otherwise there would be pictures of my bleeding face). I wish I'd taken a lot more, but regardless, know that Day One was an awesome start, and here is the evidence:
Of course, after the nosebleed, things continued to not go as planned.
Denied! Denied maple "sirup"! This would be the first of many such denials as I'd travel down the ghost of the Mother Road, and in the off-season too. At least this one is still operating!
A helpful info sign, further mocking my lack of sirup.
One of the several buildings comprising the Abraham Lincoln presidential museum and library in Springfield, IL. And let me tell you, what an absolutely fascinating and awesome museum! For one thing, it's new: a 90 million dollar museum and collection made just a couple years ago, utilizing all kinds of new theatrical technology for their displays and educational films. None of that stuffy quaint stuff of most museums here. Even when it's cheesy, it's pretty impressive.
But what was most impressive was how the museum didn't entirely edify Abraham Lincoln. Oh, at the end of the day, they're still, "Woo, Abe's awesome, best president evah!" But their mission throughout was to break through the myth and find an objective picture of the real, human Lincoln.
For example, they had one wax exhibit that I wish I could have photographed if they'd let me. Lincoln, the lawyer, is lounging in his office, reading a paper, while his two young sons run rampant, standing on his desk and playing baseball with a broom and an inkwell. It's accompanied by a quote from Lincoln's law partner, saying how he was very lax with his own children, letting them run amok. This museum has an entire *room* dedicated to how Abe Lincoln was a shitty father. Awesome!
Furthermore, in the fifteen-minute multimedia presentation, they had a quote from a black abolitionist who considered the Emancipation Proclamation to be a bitter joke. According to this quote (and an animated map of the US accompanied his words so we could see for ourselves), the Proclamation only freed the slaves in the Confederate states, who wouldn't listen anyway, so those slaves still weren't freed, and the North had no slaves to free. But the border states--Delaware, Kentucky, Maryland, Missouri, and West Virginia--were exempt and could still keep their slaves. I'm sure a couple of you learned folks knew this, but I sure as hell didn't, and neither did anyone I've told about this so far.
If there's one thing this museum made clear, it's how much Lincoln was fucking hated in his day. From so many sides! I mean, no surprise, but man, to actually see the long hallway plastered with political cartoons tearing him apart, to all the quotes from people from every walk of life... it really just makes it all the more goddamn awe-inspiring that he managed to pull this nation back together (more or less). It honestly gives me hope for our current situation, the hope of prescient.
If only more museums were dedicated to showing the flaws, the humanity of their subjects. Warts and all, so to speak. It ultimately just makes the accomplishments all the more profound.
He was so dreamy as Hamlet. I wish I could have had someone take my picture with him, where I could be hamming out. We'd be the new Martin and Lewis! "Hey, Wilky! What's this gun for?" BLAM! "Whoopsie. You okay, Wilky?" "HEFNERRRRRRRRRRR!!!"
From there, I tracked down a true Route 66 landmark:
Cozy Dogs. The birthplace of the corn dog.
Now, you might say, "Ew, corn dogs," and I'd normally agree. Carny fare isn't known for being the best nor classiest. And for my part, I can't eat hot dogs anymore without bringing 'em back up again within an hour. But hey, this is all part of the adventure, so I had to give one a try.
...
Y'know... I could go to Paris. I could live in Milan. I could dine with the finest chefs in all of Europe, and this... this would still be one of the finest culinary experiences I have ever had.
Look at that photo, man. Sheer perfection. It's like the difference between store-bought donuts and fresh-made: fluffy and warm on the inside, but with a magnificently crispy layer of fat on the outside. And not for the last time, I would resist the urge for more to save room for the food ahead. Namely, for what would be awaiting me in St. Louis.
But before I got there, I discovered this place in a small Illinois town whose name escapes me.
This guy Henry runs the shop as a hobby, a love-letter for all things Route 66. Definitely a nice guy, who spun a whole story about his beloved pet rabbit who sat as a greeter to the shop for years and years until she passed away. He has a whole theory as to how she's now taken over for St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. Sweet guy.
And from there, it was off to St. Louis for the prize hyped about both by ROAD TRIP USA and by Bloo's boyfriend, who had take the 66 trip before.
The legendary Ted Drewe's frozen custard stand. I ordered a "Cardinal Sin" (took me a couple hours before I got the Cardinals reference), which is custard with tart cherries and hot fudge. You could order it as a sundae or as "concrete," where it's swirled all together. I chose the latter, which is probably the only reason I was able to penetrate this massive slab of dairy goodness.
Remember when Bart and Milhouse got the Squishie made entirely out of syrup? "It's soooo thick!" Well, if that was a Slurpee, this is the milkshake equivalent.
Fucking. Amazing. I was tempted to stay in St. Louis just to try different kinds. But that would mean staying in St. Louis, so it was time to move on.
But as I realized that the next place I wanted to hit was nearby and wouldn't be open till morning, I decided to call it a night, so I pulled into a rest area outside of St. Louis and camped out.
These pictures do not do justice to the absolutely wonderful feeling of what it's like back in the minivan. Sure, if I drop something, it's a pain in the ass finding it, and sure, I'm wallowing in my own squalor... but I tell you, when those curtains are hung up and I'm lying back on that mattress, curled up in blankets, I could just stare up for hours in sheer contentment. Is this what campers feel after claiming a spot, pitching up tent, and settling in for the night? If so, I might become an outdoorsman yet.
The only problem is how ass-cold it gets. I end up trying to find a system where I can cover my head *just* enough that I can still breathe, but that the air gets warmed up by my body eat before it enters my nose and freezes me. There's gotta be a better way.
And that's day one. I'll try to get the rest up in due time while I'm here. Sheesh, who would have thought that posting these photos would be a bigger undertaking that the trip itself?
Howdy, folks. I am safely arrived in Burbank, California and staying with the awesome
adaptor, whom I met on metaquotes back when kali921 posted my account of the "Burt's Bees debacle." Who says the internet can't lead to a real social life? So I finally can bring you photos! And for the sake of your sanity and mine, I've decided to break 'em up by days. Day One started off easy, exploding nose aside, and I was still getting into the shutterbug habit (otherwise there would be pictures of my bleeding face). I wish I'd taken a lot more, but regardless, know that Day One was an awesome start, and here is the evidence:
Of course, after the nosebleed, things continued to not go as planned.
Denied! Denied maple "sirup"! This would be the first of many such denials as I'd travel down the ghost of the Mother Road, and in the off-season too. At least this one is still operating!
A helpful info sign, further mocking my lack of sirup.
One of the several buildings comprising the Abraham Lincoln presidential museum and library in Springfield, IL. And let me tell you, what an absolutely fascinating and awesome museum! For one thing, it's new: a 90 million dollar museum and collection made just a couple years ago, utilizing all kinds of new theatrical technology for their displays and educational films. None of that stuffy quaint stuff of most museums here. Even when it's cheesy, it's pretty impressive.
But what was most impressive was how the museum didn't entirely edify Abraham Lincoln. Oh, at the end of the day, they're still, "Woo, Abe's awesome, best president evah!" But their mission throughout was to break through the myth and find an objective picture of the real, human Lincoln.
For example, they had one wax exhibit that I wish I could have photographed if they'd let me. Lincoln, the lawyer, is lounging in his office, reading a paper, while his two young sons run rampant, standing on his desk and playing baseball with a broom and an inkwell. It's accompanied by a quote from Lincoln's law partner, saying how he was very lax with his own children, letting them run amok. This museum has an entire *room* dedicated to how Abe Lincoln was a shitty father. Awesome!
Furthermore, in the fifteen-minute multimedia presentation, they had a quote from a black abolitionist who considered the Emancipation Proclamation to be a bitter joke. According to this quote (and an animated map of the US accompanied his words so we could see for ourselves), the Proclamation only freed the slaves in the Confederate states, who wouldn't listen anyway, so those slaves still weren't freed, and the North had no slaves to free. But the border states--Delaware, Kentucky, Maryland, Missouri, and West Virginia--were exempt and could still keep their slaves. I'm sure a couple of you learned folks knew this, but I sure as hell didn't, and neither did anyone I've told about this so far.
If there's one thing this museum made clear, it's how much Lincoln was fucking hated in his day. From so many sides! I mean, no surprise, but man, to actually see the long hallway plastered with political cartoons tearing him apart, to all the quotes from people from every walk of life... it really just makes it all the more goddamn awe-inspiring that he managed to pull this nation back together (more or less). It honestly gives me hope for our current situation, the hope of prescient.
If only more museums were dedicated to showing the flaws, the humanity of their subjects. Warts and all, so to speak. It ultimately just makes the accomplishments all the more profound.
He was so dreamy as Hamlet. I wish I could have had someone take my picture with him, where I could be hamming out. We'd be the new Martin and Lewis! "Hey, Wilky! What's this gun for?" BLAM! "Whoopsie. You okay, Wilky?" "HEFNERRRRRRRRRRR!!!"
From there, I tracked down a true Route 66 landmark:
Cozy Dogs. The birthplace of the corn dog.
Now, you might say, "Ew, corn dogs," and I'd normally agree. Carny fare isn't known for being the best nor classiest. And for my part, I can't eat hot dogs anymore without bringing 'em back up again within an hour. But hey, this is all part of the adventure, so I had to give one a try.
...
Y'know... I could go to Paris. I could live in Milan. I could dine with the finest chefs in all of Europe, and this... this would still be one of the finest culinary experiences I have ever had.
Look at that photo, man. Sheer perfection. It's like the difference between store-bought donuts and fresh-made: fluffy and warm on the inside, but with a magnificently crispy layer of fat on the outside. And not for the last time, I would resist the urge for more to save room for the food ahead. Namely, for what would be awaiting me in St. Louis.
But before I got there, I discovered this place in a small Illinois town whose name escapes me.
This guy Henry runs the shop as a hobby, a love-letter for all things Route 66. Definitely a nice guy, who spun a whole story about his beloved pet rabbit who sat as a greeter to the shop for years and years until she passed away. He has a whole theory as to how she's now taken over for St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. Sweet guy.
And from there, it was off to St. Louis for the prize hyped about both by ROAD TRIP USA and by Bloo's boyfriend, who had take the 66 trip before.
The legendary Ted Drewe's frozen custard stand. I ordered a "Cardinal Sin" (took me a couple hours before I got the Cardinals reference), which is custard with tart cherries and hot fudge. You could order it as a sundae or as "concrete," where it's swirled all together. I chose the latter, which is probably the only reason I was able to penetrate this massive slab of dairy goodness.
Remember when Bart and Milhouse got the Squishie made entirely out of syrup? "It's soooo thick!" Well, if that was a Slurpee, this is the milkshake equivalent.
Fucking. Amazing. I was tempted to stay in St. Louis just to try different kinds. But that would mean staying in St. Louis, so it was time to move on.
But as I realized that the next place I wanted to hit was nearby and wouldn't be open till morning, I decided to call it a night, so I pulled into a rest area outside of St. Louis and camped out.
These pictures do not do justice to the absolutely wonderful feeling of what it's like back in the minivan. Sure, if I drop something, it's a pain in the ass finding it, and sure, I'm wallowing in my own squalor... but I tell you, when those curtains are hung up and I'm lying back on that mattress, curled up in blankets, I could just stare up for hours in sheer contentment. Is this what campers feel after claiming a spot, pitching up tent, and settling in for the night? If so, I might become an outdoorsman yet.
The only problem is how ass-cold it gets. I end up trying to find a system where I can cover my head *just* enough that I can still breathe, but that the air gets warmed up by my body eat before it enters my nose and freezes me. There's gotta be a better way.
And that's day one. I'll try to get the rest up in due time while I'm here. Sheesh, who would have thought that posting these photos would be a bigger undertaking that the trip itself?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 07:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 07:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 09:34 pm (UTC)I'll put Melanie on it.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 09:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 09:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 09:50 pm (UTC)Just kidding.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 10:43 pm (UTC)Also, you're in Burbank? That's moderately (and yet not even) close to me! Maybe if I yell really loud you'll be able to hear!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 10:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-18 12:17 am (UTC)Well it look like your having fun and be safe.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-18 05:41 am (UTC)Also, I am bemused to see the bowler hat is an extension of your daily wear and not just Joker cosplay.
Re: back of van- wool blankets and hoodie sweatshirt just for bed. And tea.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-18 06:37 am (UTC)Hehe, yes, well, it's kind of my thing. Or at least, I'm trying to make it more so.
Blankets I have enough of, but a hoodie sweatshirt is an inspired choice! I will absolutely hunt one down, how perfect!
no subject
Date: 2008-11-18 07:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-18 07:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-18 01:42 pm (UTC)Nothing like an adventure, and you're taking full advantage. It just makes me so happy to see you out there! /sappysquishy
no subject
Date: 2008-11-19 08:38 am (UTC)Also, Soldier Boy friended my on Facebook. He tried to, at least. I ignored his ass right out, the nervy ol' pigfucker. Apparently you're our one mutual friend, what the crap??