Monday, October 27, 2003
3 days in America's heartland - and by heartland I mean crotch
At long last my blog is back and up to date. I know you missed me greatly, but now that my cross-country trek is complete The Other Jewish Elvis in Cajun Country (TOJECC for readers who know) is back online. While en-route to Baton Rouge I got to see a part of the country that really makes America special and I would like to share that journey with you.
From my home base of Palo Alto I swung south down I-5 taking in the breathtaking scenery in towns like Los Banos and Coalinga before leaving I-5 for Bakersfield which is stunning this time of year. From there it was just a hop, skip and a seven hour fucking jump through the desert to my first night's stop - Flagstaff, AZ, home of the illustrious Northern Arizona University.
Ignoring the claims of "no train noise" by some hotels in my guide book, I instead chose the cheapest digs I could find (a motel which made no such claim). Don't let the name fool you, I doubt anything wholesome has ever gone on in the "The Family Inn." I think I fell asleep around the 25th train that rumbled through my room only to wake up to a conversation directly outside my door.
"Oh my God, it's been so crazy today. I've been drinking since, like, 8," said the portly NAU student.
All right, now I am certainly not one to look down on drinking, but she meant 8 PM and I refuse to be kept up on account of 6 hours worth of drinking - that's like a Tuesday's worth.
Fortunately the lack of sleep was more than made up for by the continental breakfast: "coffee," cold french toast sticks and - no need to splurge - Tampico in lieu of orange juice. After that I had about 750 miles of scrubby wasteland to cover before my next stop, Wichita Falls, TX. Luckily, however, the good people of northern Arizona, northern New Mexico and the Texas panhandle know that everyone on their highways would rather be somewhere else and provide a 75 mph speed limit to expedite that goal.
My luck improved in Wichita Falls, TX and I can now recommend anyone who goes there stay at the Towne Crest Inn, a great, cheap motel that includes a continental breakfast with real orange juice and, most importantly, Coco-crisps cereal. However, I must add a caveat: I also recommend that nobody go to Wichita Falls - ever.
The final leg of my journey took me through northern Louisiana before swinging south through western Mississipi and finally into Baton Rouge itself. I was very excited to drive through and get look at the Deep South, but apparently these states are not real eager to show off and neatly arranged trees along the highway pretty much block everything from view.
Well, that was a few days ago and since then I've been working on my y'all and knowledge of LSU football and hanging out at The Thirsty Tiger with my new co-workers while marveling at the superiority of a po' boy to a piddling Yankee "sandwich."
From my home base of Palo Alto I swung south down I-5 taking in the breathtaking scenery in towns like Los Banos and Coalinga before leaving I-5 for Bakersfield which is stunning this time of year. From there it was just a hop, skip and a seven hour fucking jump through the desert to my first night's stop - Flagstaff, AZ, home of the illustrious Northern Arizona University.
Ignoring the claims of "no train noise" by some hotels in my guide book, I instead chose the cheapest digs I could find (a motel which made no such claim). Don't let the name fool you, I doubt anything wholesome has ever gone on in the "The Family Inn." I think I fell asleep around the 25th train that rumbled through my room only to wake up to a conversation directly outside my door.
"Oh my God, it's been so crazy today. I've been drinking since, like, 8," said the portly NAU student.
All right, now I am certainly not one to look down on drinking, but she meant 8 PM and I refuse to be kept up on account of 6 hours worth of drinking - that's like a Tuesday's worth.
Fortunately the lack of sleep was more than made up for by the continental breakfast: "coffee," cold french toast sticks and - no need to splurge - Tampico in lieu of orange juice. After that I had about 750 miles of scrubby wasteland to cover before my next stop, Wichita Falls, TX. Luckily, however, the good people of northern Arizona, northern New Mexico and the Texas panhandle know that everyone on their highways would rather be somewhere else and provide a 75 mph speed limit to expedite that goal.
My luck improved in Wichita Falls, TX and I can now recommend anyone who goes there stay at the Towne Crest Inn, a great, cheap motel that includes a continental breakfast with real orange juice and, most importantly, Coco-crisps cereal. However, I must add a caveat: I also recommend that nobody go to Wichita Falls - ever.
The final leg of my journey took me through northern Louisiana before swinging south through western Mississipi and finally into Baton Rouge itself. I was very excited to drive through and get look at the Deep South, but apparently these states are not real eager to show off and neatly arranged trees along the highway pretty much block everything from view.
Well, that was a few days ago and since then I've been working on my y'all and knowledge of LSU football and hanging out at The Thirsty Tiger with my new co-workers while marveling at the superiority of a po' boy to a piddling Yankee "sandwich."
