My Inaugural Adventures... Day 1 part 1

-- This was written while we were driving down --

It’s 8:20 am, and the souls are coughing.
Now, it’s all about technology.

We’re almost seven hours into our adventure. We have all of three working CDs in the car, and the last of them is about to end. That sounds like more of a metaphor than it’s intended.

We began this venture at exactly 1:32 am, it was 21 degrees out, and I’d not slept in over twelve hours. Moms was freshly woken from the most magic hour and a half nap of her adult life.

A quick open letter to Governor Ed Rendell. Dear Governor, Plow some fucking roads. You just picked our pocket for $13.75 in tolls to pass through your precious commonwealth and you don’t have the decency to increase the likelihood of our survival with just a single plow out on the roads. Yes, people do drive through the night. Although we enjoy everyone’s favorite winter time driving fun, make your own lane cause you can’t see the lines anyways – we’d prefer the order and structure of clearly demarked lanes.

Both the hours and the miles seem to fly by now that I’m serenading moms as she drives. Except at the moment, cause I’m narrating this post out loud, -- brief interjection, moms would like you to know we high fived when crossing the Mason Dixon Line… We assumed southern culture was a decade or so behind socially, so the high five seemed appropriate.

The Starbucks courses through us both, even at $2.00 + for a large… That’s right, I said large, it was 7 am and the young woman behind the counter was too pleasant and hung over to correct me.

Maryland is super fucking bleak, I can’t believe the population isn’t in violent daily swings. Either you’re bored and fornicating (what else is there to do) or you’ve ended it all to wipe away the grey of the Maryland skyline…

Though, the high tension power lines are reassuring… Almost like signs of civilization.

To perpetuate the running gag, I’m seeing a lot of out of state license plates – and I know where they’re all going. The same place everyone is going, we’re collapsing slowly upon the center of the political universe.

52 miles until Virginia, by Moms estimation… I’ve never been so excited to enter Virginia, until I met Maryland.

Johnny Cash is recalling his Saturday night glories, in Sunday morning coming down.

A few moments ago, I was taking photos of moms and I – except they’re an unflattering angle of me, and she was just too busy trying to keep us on the road to pay attention and smile.

That’s all for now, I want to smoke.