Date: 10/31/2013
Day: 35
Location: Wilmington, NC
Miles Today: 32
Total Miles: 7667
Words, Not Pictures; This Quiet Day; The Rules; In Response; Seen on the Road
Words, Not Pictures
If you follow this blog for the reason most people buy "men's magazines," you will probably want to skip this iteration. There are only 4 pictures, none of them very interesting, and a good deal of text. Better images tomorrow, probably. It does not seem fair that one should need to take a vacation from a vacation, but such is the case. Today was devoted to sleeping late, doing laundry, getting the car washed, taking a nap, not driving anywhere much and not taking pictures.
A Day in Wilmington
The Colonel has not been fair to Wilmington, North Carolina, thus far seeing only an undistinguished commercial strip.
Full disclosure and perhaps more bio than you desire: The Colonel lived in the south for several years (at Ft. Benning, Georgia, long before he became a Colonel even of any kind.) He found the people there much the same as elsewhere; fundamentally decent. The defining accent, which is easy to make fun of, is really an attractive soft sound in the mouth of most folks. Public politeness -- please, thank you, pardon me sir -- are more common here than in most places further north or west. In public interaction in public places, black people and white people seem to treat one another civilly, even, dare one say, graciously.
Columbus, Georgia, was and is, of course, not a representative sample of southern culture. It is part of the Army south and the local police force was half black even in 1972. Riding away from the Army base on his Harley (yes, he did) he could feel the accent getting deeper and a miasma, perhaps imagined, doing the same.
The Colonel is conflicted about the South in general. A favorite correspondent, JC of B describes the south as the most regional of regions. Another, MC of SF, told the Colonel in all seriousness to be careful here, much as the Montanans warned of North Dakota. The distant sound of dueling guitar and banjo can always be imagined by an outsider. This place stinks of slavery, America's original sin, even now. The Colonel cannot look at those cotton fields without thinking ... No one now alive ever owned a slave. It is, as Mr. O'Neil wrote, sometimes possible to forgive but not to forget. The Colonel chooses to do neither.
We should pass clear through South Carolina tomorrow, with a possible stop at Ft. Sumter. First state to succeed, first to fire a shot at Federal Troops. General Sherman did not treat the South Carolinians kindly when he passed this way. His stated intention was to make the residents regret that they started a war.
The Rules
These are the Colonels rules; you can make your own set of rules when you do your One lap, whatever that might be. The Rules are a work in progress. They are added to and modified every day.
1. You must have a Road Name. You are not the same person at home as you become on the road. Out on the road you are whomever you want to be. You become a sojourner and need a sojourners name. Unlike your home-boy name, which your parents probably picked without soliciting your input, your road name should reflect some fraction of who you actually are. Take as much license as you are comfortable with in this process. And, if you can manage, be just a bit fey. Boot. Wellington Boot. Colonel Boot to you.
1A. Road names may only be used while on the road. Back at home you revert to your home-boy name. Sorry, that's the rule.
2. The point of One Lap is the process, not the destination. Slow down, knucklehead, don't rush.
3. Stop and look at whatever catches your eye, no matter how silly it might be. You will probably not be this way again.
3A. Always stop, turn around and go back to take a picture of anything interesting glimpsed. Digital pictures are free. Take many.
4. Never drive with less than 1/2 a tank of gas.
5. Stop at least every two hours of road time. Get out of the car and walk around. You are old. (If you are not old, sitting in the car for hours on end will make you feel that way.) If there is someone to talk to, talk to them. Tell them what you are doing -- they will be fascinated, the Colonel guarantees it.
6. Your max speed is 85% of the posted max speed. See rule #2.
7. Always tip housekeeping when you stop at a motel.
8. About once a week, spend two consecutive nights in the same place. Sleep late. Do laundry. Do not obsess on the road miles driven.
9. Listen to what you brought and XM satellite radio if you have it. (And have it, by all means.) But also listen to local radio.
In Response
To JC of B: Indeed it must have been a Dudeite who wrote the message "Life is good at the beach" on the car bumper on the beach on Cape Cod. There is, as JC probably knows, a Church of the Dude, adherents called Dudites. Their sacrament is rumored to involve considerable fluid oz of White Russian. And bowling, of course.
To DC of B: Well perhaps just a touch of copyright infringement. The "is" in "America is beautiful" was italicized, indicating irony. That probably constitutes fair usage. The point was the esthetically overloaded sensation one gets looking at the countryside, like spending over long in the Uffizi. This was unexpected.
Seen on the Road
Yes, a functional (if pricey: $40 - $60?) wine rack made from a section of shipping pallet. Jono has a circular saw and a stack of pallets. But it is made of 100% recycled material.
OK, not a great cartoon, but a pretty good car wash. The faithful Acura has been water wanded off a couple times -- the wet under construction dirt roads in North Dakota called for some attention -- but this is the first real bath for it since we left Ca. It smells right pretty.
