Not On the Road

We love road trips. Ten years ago this summer Toni and I took off on our first great drive. The destination was my brother's place in St. Paul, but this was the first time the journey itself was the experience.

Above: "The Mikado" a giant, coin-operated music machine.
Below: The Infinity Room, a cantilevered glass room that extends 156 feet above Wyoming Valley - it scared me.

We stopped in to see Ben and Pam in Chicago for a weekend - the weekend before the famous heatwave that killed 500 people there - and continued onto Milwaukee, Madison and (as the temperature rose) finally Spring Green, WI where we took in not only Taliesin, but also the House on the Rock where we not only realized our deep and hitherto unspoken adoration for kitsch, but Toni developed mild heatstroke.

I can't freaking believe that was a decade ago.

If we did not have a newborn, we still would be prevented from making even a brief excursion this summer, as I have secured a job acting, yay oh me. I have been taking in the plans of others, trying to suggest great places to go next year, or even in the middle of the winter when I have a big break.

The summer of 2000 was supposed to be our last big road trip "before we have kids." That first kid never came, and we have already discovered that we can drive long distances with Zelda (we went to Maine and back - on two-laners) without any of us going crazy.

Our first stop in 2000 was Cave City to see Mammoth Caves. Toni made a special effort to find unusual places to stay, and so our first night out was spent in a cement "tee pee" at Wigwam Village #2. A relic from the old Route 66, the places was owned (at the time) by, ironically or not, a Native American named John Ivan (isn't that redundant?)

The ring of small, cone-shaped buildings - each one is a single unit, some for two, some family-sized - surrounds a grassy impression with a humble playground set. We sat on the bench situated outside our room, made friends with a very pregnant and friendly dog, and watched other people's kids run like hell all over the little playground.

And that was six years ago.

This weekend This American Life rebroadcast their Notes On Camp show, from 1998. The closing music is that fin de siecle, one-hit wonder "Mmmm-Bop" by, you know, that band. Won't that make you feel old.

So, in order to imagine I am on the road, while in actuality I am polishing swords (for my job at GLTF) or running laundry (also for GLTF) I have been checking out some of my favorite road-oriented episodes of TAL:

Road Trip! Self-explanatory.
Conventions Perhaps the first TAL episode I ever heard.
Welcome to America Because I love New York.

Ironically, while I am spending time creating this elaborate entry, I really should be working on a travel piece for Cleve Mag. Maybe I should get to that. Have a lovely Fourth of July weekend, yo.