I Hate Capitalism, Branded Food & the Internet (ruminations from a drive across America)
I drove from Portland to Richmond last week.
In a 17-year old Toyota LandCruiser.
Unsafely at times.
I've driven across the country 4 or 5 times.
NY LA twice.
I used to make the trip in fewer days.
Of course the list of things done quicker in youth is long for most people and I am not excepted.
Neither is my LandCruiser.
This sign used to excite it:
Now we pull into the right hand slow truck lane in the mountains and get honked at by 18-wheelers faster than we are. You don't push an old LandCruiser unless you want to end up pushing it.
A drive across the country turns a solitary driver against much he's held dear.
As the intercourse with the country moved beyond gas stations and rest areas to motels and restaurants, it moved my mind to hatred of hamburgers.
Or what passes for a hamburger at McDonalds/BurgerKing/Wendys.
Chain hotels & chain fast food make money near the interstates.
Apparently not much else.
Get off at an exit, drive half a mile, and you can hear life being squeezed out of the way to make room for another chain location.
The ground is squeezed up into berms to deflect the sound of 70-mph tires, the people's faces are squeezed into grimaces at having no better choice than to work at chain locations, the trees are squeezed into corners waiting to be bulldozed when numbers say the market will allow a new chain location to come in, the hamburger is squeezed into flat squares, frozen & stacked.
What happens to a hamburger is what happens to the people.
Sit at the bar at the Lounge at a Holiday Inn next to the interstate and you will believe me.
There is a look that comes on a person's face whose life is laid out before them in a step by step diagram that when they turn their head to look at you, if you stare at it a minute, will make you both grateful to God and at the same time sadder than you've been for some time.
At first, it felt good to be out amongst the trees & the mountains & the rain.
Then it occurs to you how come I don't come out here more often?
How did I become so disassociated from the land I live in?
How have I gone so far down the road Thoreau (whose thinking I admire for much more than its environmental positions) warned of :
I'm not suggesting nobody's in the woods.
There are plenty of people out there testing sleeping bags & tents & lanterns for Outside magazine articles.
What there aren't much of is people taking walks irrespective of schedule.
A people unawed by the miracle ball we stand on, breathe from, eat off & drink up isn't likely to have anything to say to their neighbors beyond simple bickering.
Too much Starbucks, not enough looking at stars.
Is stepping in line with a smoothly churning economic machine all we hope to spend our lives at?
It may seem a small evil.
It's when evils are small that we lose the fight to them.
I saw my favorite means of transportation everywhere.
But never one with passengers.
The interstate highway system is the exact worst way to cross the country, but the fastest.
And you have an incredible amount of control if you're not in a hurry.
Coast-to-coast on a train (I've gone 3/4ths of the way twice) the lack of control you have would make me kill myself out of frustration.
Amtrak is a perfect example of how Capitalism keeps greatness from appearing amongst us.
In parts of Colorado I've passed through places so quiet and sweet you can almost hear people humming Oh Beautiful for Spacious Skies as the train slips through the scene.
Problem is those spots are 10 minutes long and at best you miss only half of them during the night.
It's a cheap shot to blame Capitalism for how bad Amtrak is but Amtrak is so bad it deserves every kick that can be got in.
However, it's the maturing of Capitalism & the market economy in America that has left no room for Amtrak to do the things that make train travel so ramblingly good in Europe.
The fault does not belong to the people of Amtrak.
Capitalism leaves no place for values that can't be measured in dollars.
Trains, as wonderful as they are, make no economic sense in America right now.
Increasingly we are accepting lives filled less with things of value and more with only those things whose value can be measured.
These trees I drove past were standing there beautifully.
Ok, sure, maybe they were planted in rows because Capitalist profit/loss ratios demanded a pattern of harvest that was most cost-effective.
But, what about leaving them there to be beautiful? No chance.
What about there being forests planted by plan to express thought & vision, not just the maximizing of profit?
I know, ridiculous.
I was driving across the country when I could have flown.
Don't ask this to make the normal amount of sense.
The smartest people I know think about death constantly.
I don't see much point in not considering it the only issue that matters.
So when I see a signpost for Deadman's Pass, I shoot it.
By luck--and it is by luck that all good work is done--the wide angle of the camera lens caught the reflection in the rear view, which, to me, shows such a contrast with the blue sky of the moment that it nearly appears death is following behind and the signpost for the turn ahead is not far.
I know what you're thinking.
What does this have to do with advertising?
Everything.
Everything you do becomes a part of the creative machine your brain is.
Keep feeding it experiences and it won't stall.
(to be continued)
In a 17-year old Toyota LandCruiser.
Unsafely at times.
I've driven across the country 4 or 5 times.
NY LA twice.
I used to make the trip in fewer days.
Of course the list of things done quicker in youth is long for most people and I am not excepted.
Neither is my LandCruiser.
This sign used to excite it:
Now we pull into the right hand slow truck lane in the mountains and get honked at by 18-wheelers faster than we are. You don't push an old LandCruiser unless you want to end up pushing it.
A drive across the country turns a solitary driver against much he's held dear.
As the intercourse with the country moved beyond gas stations and rest areas to motels and restaurants, it moved my mind to hatred of hamburgers.
Or what passes for a hamburger at McDonalds/BurgerKing/Wendys.
Chain hotels & chain fast food make money near the interstates.
Apparently not much else.
Get off at an exit, drive half a mile, and you can hear life being squeezed out of the way to make room for another chain location.
The ground is squeezed up into berms to deflect the sound of 70-mph tires, the people's faces are squeezed into grimaces at having no better choice than to work at chain locations, the trees are squeezed into corners waiting to be bulldozed when numbers say the market will allow a new chain location to come in, the hamburger is squeezed into flat squares, frozen & stacked.
What happens to a hamburger is what happens to the people.
Sit at the bar at the Lounge at a Holiday Inn next to the interstate and you will believe me.
There is a look that comes on a person's face whose life is laid out before them in a step by step diagram that when they turn their head to look at you, if you stare at it a minute, will make you both grateful to God and at the same time sadder than you've been for some time.
At first, it felt good to be out amongst the trees & the mountains & the rain.
Then it occurs to you how come I don't come out here more often?
How did I become so disassociated from the land I live in?
How have I gone so far down the road Thoreau (whose thinking I admire for much more than its environmental positions) warned of :
"If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day,
he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer; but if he spends
his whole day as a speculator, shearing off those woods and
making earth bald before her time, he is esteemed an
industrious and enterprising citizen." (Life without Principle)
I'm thinking we don't go to nature because there's no money in it.he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer; but if he spends
his whole day as a speculator, shearing off those woods and
making earth bald before her time, he is esteemed an
industrious and enterprising citizen." (Life without Principle)
I'm not suggesting nobody's in the woods.
There are plenty of people out there testing sleeping bags & tents & lanterns for Outside magazine articles.
What there aren't much of is people taking walks irrespective of schedule.
A people unawed by the miracle ball we stand on, breathe from, eat off & drink up isn't likely to have anything to say to their neighbors beyond simple bickering.
Too much Starbucks, not enough looking at stars.
Is stepping in line with a smoothly churning economic machine all we hope to spend our lives at?
It may seem a small evil.
It's when evils are small that we lose the fight to them.
I saw my favorite means of transportation everywhere.
But never one with passengers.
The interstate highway system is the exact worst way to cross the country, but the fastest.
And you have an incredible amount of control if you're not in a hurry.
Coast-to-coast on a train (I've gone 3/4ths of the way twice) the lack of control you have would make me kill myself out of frustration.
Amtrak is a perfect example of how Capitalism keeps greatness from appearing amongst us.
In parts of Colorado I've passed through places so quiet and sweet you can almost hear people humming Oh Beautiful for Spacious Skies as the train slips through the scene.
Problem is those spots are 10 minutes long and at best you miss only half of them during the night.
It's a cheap shot to blame Capitalism for how bad Amtrak is but Amtrak is so bad it deserves every kick that can be got in.
However, it's the maturing of Capitalism & the market economy in America that has left no room for Amtrak to do the things that make train travel so ramblingly good in Europe.
The fault does not belong to the people of Amtrak.
Capitalism leaves no place for values that can't be measured in dollars.
Trains, as wonderful as they are, make no economic sense in America right now.
Increasingly we are accepting lives filled less with things of value and more with only those things whose value can be measured.
These trees I drove past were standing there beautifully.
Ok, sure, maybe they were planted in rows because Capitalist profit/loss ratios demanded a pattern of harvest that was most cost-effective.
But, what about leaving them there to be beautiful? No chance.
What about there being forests planted by plan to express thought & vision, not just the maximizing of profit?
I know, ridiculous.
I was driving across the country when I could have flown.
Don't ask this to make the normal amount of sense.
The smartest people I know think about death constantly.
I don't see much point in not considering it the only issue that matters.
So when I see a signpost for Deadman's Pass, I shoot it.
By luck--and it is by luck that all good work is done--the wide angle of the camera lens caught the reflection in the rear view, which, to me, shows such a contrast with the blue sky of the moment that it nearly appears death is following behind and the signpost for the turn ahead is not far.
I know what you're thinking.
What does this have to do with advertising?
Everything.
Everything you do becomes a part of the creative machine your brain is.
Keep feeding it experiences and it won't stall.
(to be continued)
43 Comments:
Last summer my Honda took me across this great nation. Writer Scott King and I tried to find a non-chain restaurant in a suburb of St. Louis. Couldn't do it. We drove past miles of Borders Bookstores, Bed Bath & Beyonds and finally gave up. We had hoped 'Smoky Bones BBQ' was a genuine, one-of-a-kind place but the waitress said it was a regional chain.
More and more parts of America are looking the same. You can't tell Indiana from Alabama by looking at a photo. These strip-mall tracts all lack imagination and craftsmanship.
In college, a friend and I would go out walking in the woods. He was a big time tracker.
He got me into Tom Brown, Jr.
http://www.trackerschool.com/
I remember reading a pamphlet about a pro footballer taking tracking classes. He said that learning to use a wide-angle of vision helped him in his games. So yeah, I agree that everything relates. If you let it.
One of the most amazing experiences of my life happened when we were on one of these slow walks.
We noticed that birds were making a skittish chirping. In the bushes, not far from the ground.
They were doing it in a line, and the line was moving towards us.
At first, we thought we were the purpetrators of their distress. My friend wasn't so sure.
Suddenly, a sulking red fox stepped out a few paces in front of us. As it looked right at me, I stood frozen. Then it continued on its walk.
I haven't really been the same ever since.
P.S. Ever seen Robert Crumb's Short History of America?
http://www.methowconservancy.org/images/history2.jpg
My God. Why did I hate you so much and refuse to learn from you when I had you as a professor?
This is everything I think, said more eloquently and at greater (more thoughtful) length.
Oh, shit.
Someone told me first semester they'd put money on the fact that you would one day become my most favorite professor. I avoided your classes to ensure this would never become truth. More regretful stubbornness.
An apology to you would be misplaced, here. I should really be pitying myself. But I'll apologize anyway. I'm sorry, Mark. There probably could have been some interesting opinions shaped and exchanged between us--if I had been willing to listen.
If I had been mature enough.
I'm not ashamed to admit to having been wrong. Just too ashamed to put my name on it (although I think you could guess). And grateful I don't have to shell out $35,000 again to have you as a mentor.
Thank goodness for your blog. Please don't ever, ever stop writing it.
Though I'm sure the route you took was a little farther south, I couldn't help but think of this notorious stretch of highway I've had the pleasure of passing through on more than one occasion:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wikiBreezewood,_Penn
sylvania
Still, I think the laboratory-concocted, trans-fatty sausage McGriddle with the arches-branded bun is the only cure for a hangover.
Andre-
Indiana has Larry Bird.
Alabama has Charles Barkley.
The following fast food chains make good food. Capitalism-faith-renewal good:
(In no particular order)
In n Out Burger (How you missed this is beyond me. It's almost a betrayal.)
Burgerville (Walla Walla sweet onion rings--seasonal--will make you believe in Jesus. No matter what James Cameron says.)
Del Taco (I'm usually alone on this one. Which is fine. I like to read.)
Albierto's Taco's (Orange County and SD County only.)
Pedro's Tacos (South Orange County Only.)
El Torito (this is not technically fast food, but it is big, chainy, and corporate. Don't miss the automatic tortilla maker.)
Carl's Jr (Not Hardees. Western Bacon Cheeseburger only.)
Round Table Pizza. (Original Sauce only.)
Cracker Barrel
Mark, while I may not be in your class, I still consider myself a student. Your passage reminds me of my favorite quote…."I wonder why progress looks so much like destruction.” John Steinbeck wrote that in Travels with Charley nearly 40 years ago. To hear you say it again in your own eloquent way makes me think it must be a universal truth.
I forget to slow down. I forget to walk beneath the trees. I forget to put my ear down to the ground and just listen. After reading your words I always walk away saying to myself, “yeah, he’s right.” Suddenly I have the urge to stop suckling on the YouTube and to pick up a book, or talk to a neighbor, or take a drive. Thanks Mark.
much like one office light in a hallway of routine.
or is it for the hopeless trees?
I don't know if it's so much going out into nature as it is being alone. Strange, fantastic, beautifully transcendant things happen when it is only you around to take them in. I would argue Thoreau would have written the same things he did regardless if he were taking a walk over the Brooklyn Bridge or willfully getting lost in the Adirondacks. Nature is just what our founding fathers saw when they were alone. Because, quite frankly, nature was all there was.
Aloneness is a great American tradition. America was founded by it. Explorers. Fur trappers. Missionaries. All big aloneness guys. Thoreau is obviously the king because he sought it out for no other reason then to figure it out instead of using it for some potential economic or political gain like the trappers or the fur barons.
This tradition of aloneness is dying and our cheeseburgers are dying because of it. We build bad cheeseburger chains because it makes people feel like they are less alone. There a sense of communal disgust. It makes us feel connected to others who are also eating the same bad cheeseburger.
We need to be more alone. If doesn't lead to more fruitfull lives it would at least lead to better food.
But we're also dying because of our cheeseburgers, Mr. Brown...
is it a closely guarded dislike for commercialisation that makes some so good at advertising?
I would say it takes an artist to be good at advertising. And anyone for art is against commercialism.
Dear Andre,
Don't get me started on the dearth of bbq left in America. I am going on a road trip to NC to see if I can still find the real thing out in the woods.
Dear marcopolo,
Well written. You have found the thing in nature that butch brown seems to feel isn't there. Y'all could do an excellent argument on the value of nature.
Dear anonymous,
Don't fret. How do you know hating me wasn't exactly what you needed? There is plenty of opportunity in the space between a teacher's expectations and the students' desire to be successful for animosity. What if it's that anger that motivates? You owe no apology. I say bravo for being brave enough to cop to it.
Dear floyd,
Yes, I've stopped in Breezewood several times. It conjures up few memories worth telling. Does any town in America seem less like a town?
Dear Tuton,
Inn N Out I agree. The rest I'll have to take your large word for.
2 fiddy.
Dear janiehoffa,
No. Not in my experience.
Dear Enzo,
You also fret too much. Good to hear from you.
Dear butch brown,
It's my opinion you haven't read Thoreau closely enough. He is all over nature as being our guide to beauty on earth. How else are we to know beauty except from nature. I don't buy the idea of aloneness as a value apart from its connection to nature.
Thanks for taking the time and effort to comment.
I think it might be a bit simplistic to think that everything must be compared to nature when evaluating what is beautiful.
if you're venturing into the NC woods in search of pig, don't pass Allen & Son BBQ off Hwy 86 between Hillsborough and Chapel Hill. next to a railroad track and a trading post. it definitely exists. the walls are cinder blocks. the hickory pit is out back. the pies are born warm in the building, and the bbq and fixins don't get more real.
I got a better suggestion, 90 miles north of Richmond in a little town called Indian Head, MD 20640. Take 95 N to exit 104, I think. It's route 301. At the light, turn right to head north on 301. It's a historic route, and it is SO awesome to see unblemished country with historic signs pointing out sites where stuff HAPPENED. My favorite, in the middle of nowhere on the two-lane highway, is eerily titled "John Wilkes Booth". I could never stop to read it. Anyway, be sure not to surpass the speed limit by more than 4 mph because I guarantee they WILL pull you over. OK, so you take 301 north for about 70 miles, past Dahlgren NAval Base, over the water and the Nice Bridge ($3 toll) and into "civilization". There will be tempting BBQ, but don't stop. Wait until you pass a Safeway on your left and be on the lookout for route 225 at the light with the 7-11. Take a left and follow this twisty road until you hit Indian Head Hwy, Route 210. Take a right onto 210 and follow it a few minutes until you see the big pink pig sign on your right. It's a BBQ stand, and it is authentic, cheap and good. CAVEAT: It's only open until 8 or so. But the ride and the bbq are worth it, and you'll get there in under 2 hours.
Dear Gentlemen &/or Gentle-ladies offering BBQ tips,
They will be devoured with gratitude.
One of my favorite BBQ places is in the tiny town of Bath, Maine. Quite a far drive from Richmond for a pile of pork, but I know plenty of people who’d go great lengths for some dead animal done right.
Beale Street Barbeque | www.mainebbq.com
Nicole, we do not need to know about more places in Maine to find BBQ'd moose meat! God.
Fenske: please write us a book about BBQ, poetry, art, brunswick stew, things to say to women and maybe ads. I, for one, would run to buy it.
www.henryssmokehouse.com
almost worth leaving SF
I got the road under my legs, my captain at the helm, cold air in my grille. When I get thirsty I drink the number 92. When I get tired I go on less cylinders. I keep my eyes wide at night.
The view isn't always bad from the back. Especially when there's a late 70's pink porche with her tailpipe in my face.
ahhh. the open road. smooth pavement. (I never did like the rough stuff). 18 years and 137,000 turns of my dial. I'm glad I'm me.
Capitalism-faith-renewal good, cont'd:
Skyline Chili
Capitalism-faith-renewal good food continued: RICHMOND NON-BBQ EDITION.
**This is from memory. Remembered places may not exist/have changed hands. Also, this will cover the gamut of establishments, not just "fast" food, therefore promising only to renew faith in capitalism in general, not the wetland-pummeling, shareholder-value-maximizing style of capitalism discovered in the heatlamp burgers of America's Strip Malls.**
Cuba/Cuba Huevos Rancheros Plate. In the fan. Good beans. Good cheese crumbles. Don't get the plantains. Horrible. Horrible. Rubbery.
Mamma Zu'. Get a meat that ends in "parmigiana." Expect to wait. Bring a local if you can.
Karen's Diner. Not the greatest food. But the best standard diner in richmond. They'll gladly get you a side bowl for syrup-dippin' with your pancakes and sausage. Lot's of locals.
Comfort. Good eats, bad atmosphere. There are worse sins. http://brandoneats.blogspot.com/2005/05/comfort-in-richmond-on-broad-st.html
Chik-fil-a. In the hospital up by the gym on top of the hill. One pickle, chicken, bun, butter. Waffle fries are a good conversation piece AND have unbelievable ketchup retention crevices. Stuart Jennings is still there.
Cinnabon in the mall when you go past the fan on Monument. At different points in my Adcenter experience, there were people I wanted to kill. Slowly. The cinnabon cradled me back to normal.
The Wendy's By The Short Pump Movie Theaters. Not a huge wendy's fan, but it's worth going to just for the Northwest Themed wood celings, totem poles and Other Crazy Shit.
It's worth walking a little further for Quiznos.
tuton has mistaken the Arby's in Short Pump for a Wendy's. Greater sins have been committed when rating the fast-food pantheon. He should be forgiven for time has worn away the edges of his memory.
and Edo's Squid is better than Mama 'Zu.
Here's the best BBQ tip I can offer:
Fire up the grill and make it yourself.
No restaurant can successfully duplicate the experience of looking at a slab of meat sizziling and popping on a grill that is encrusted with whatever you charred last. The hickory smoke piercing your eyes that you have to constantly wipe with the part of your hand that isn't covered in the sauce or rub you concoted the night before.
It's cheating the whole BBQ experience by sitting your ass in a booth that was hap hazzardly wiped off with a dirty dish rag right before you got there and saying, "Hmmm, BBQ, I'll have that." Gag.
Edo's and Mama Zu's are practically the same place. They have the same owner and the same food, just different environments. And at Edo's they're a little nicer to you.
Amen brother.
Tuton, definitely knows food. He's got the bumper stick to prove it. It reads, "Pedro's Tacos."
Fenske. You scare me. But, you write well.
Maybe I should stop avoiding you in the halls.
Maybe.
I can't believe you're still driving that car. Do you still have your Gary Fisher mountain bike too?
Dear Anonymous,
That Gary Fischer was a beautiful bike. Strong as heck. Carried my large ass. Sadly, it burned in the 93 fire that took my house. Couldn't even find the frame that fire burned so hot. The truck was saved by the folks from The Bomb Factory borrowing it while I was out of town. Losing a thing is good in the long run, It opens a hole for something else. At the same time, holding on to a thing comforts. The thoughts seem opposed, yet both are true. Take a look at what F. Scott Fitzgerald said that was a sign of.
Dear First-Rate Intelligence:
F. Scott Fitzgerald also said that advertising was a racket who contribution to humanity was "exactly minus zero." Come to think of it, he also ALSO said that a big man really has no time to do anything but sit around and be big. When do you find time to blog?
: )
thank you for sharing your thoughts, mark. i've heard so much about you...
stephen, pasadena art center
Mark,
What inspired the journey? Did things go south with Wieden? Is it a much different place today than it once was? I'd love to know your thoughts on the matter, as would our readership at AdPulp, to say nothing of your own readership here.
I'm reminded of the Dennis Miller-ism: A developer is a guy who wants to build a house in the woods, a conservationist is a guy who owns a house in the woods.
This post has been removed by the author.
I'm an ad major at Art Center in Pasadena. I commute 100 miles each way to school from Santa Barbara. People think I'm out of my mind spending that much time and money on gas and driving. They don't see how I can keep up with my tremendous workload.
I didn't always have this long of a commute. I made the choice to live with my wonderful girlfriend in Santa Barbara about 6 months ago. When I'm there, I'm surrounded by people who don't give a shit about advertising lions, pencils, or golden crayons. It's the breath of pure oxygen I get to take in after hours of breathing thick green advertising smog.
I enjoy my 2 hour drive to class everyday. The first 40 miles of the 101 freeway leaving Santa Barbara snake right along the ocean on a wide open road without a franchise in sight. I like to put the windows down in my piece of shit car(who's stereo system is worth more than the 240,000 mile toyota itself) and soak up that stretch of beauty while listening to good music.
It's a full sensory experience that reminds me I'm alive and human everyday. It has no economic or time efficient value. It costs me 3 times what it would to live closer to school. And I am one broke bastard because of it.
But my work has been better than it ever has. My gpa last semester was the best I've ever had. And good ideas seem to come to me much more naturally than they ever have.
I think about death everyday. I used to love flying on planes, but now I'm very nervous on them. I have a very long list of things i want to experience before I die. And winning advertising awards isn't even on the first page of my list. Advertising is a fun career. But it's still just a job.
Mr. Fenske, the VCU students are very lucky. How about you backpack your way across the country over to Art Center for a term or 2?
Mark,
I was thrilled to discover your blog via American Copywriter. Funny how small the world is, as we're just down 64 west of Cville. This really struck me:
Is stepping in line with a smoothly churning economic machine all we hope to spend our lives at?
I live in the mountains - and get to spend more time than most walking in the woods with my dogs. The one thing I've discovered (but have probably always known) is that out there is where you'll find the MOST smoothly churning economic machine. 100% efficient and the only machine that really matters. Recognizing the machine and one's place in it is always comforting, always helpful, and always something that makes me a better person/writer/whatever, at least for awhile. And to what I think might be part of your point, there is a lot to learn from it. Or even just from a drive through it.
Thanks for sharing.
This is the first time I've visited your blog - and I am so intrigued. A copywriter teammate of mine - www.jasonfortune.com - insisted I read. He found you through American Copywriter.
Interestingly enough, my family and I made a 24-hour sojourn last year half-way across the country from the heartland to Virginia, DC, Maryland and Pennsylvania. I had some anxiety about three kids and several weeks worth of luggage packed in for the long haul. It was one of the most rewarding times I've ever had! We experienced parts of the country I'd never seen before. Nothing more beautiful than the rolling green hills of Kentucky or the Daniel Boone National Forest. And even DC was "beautiful" in its own right as we explored the history of our country. We felt free out there on the road. And as it turned out, I think the roadtrip itself was the best part of the entire vacation. I was so glad we didn't choose to fly.
And I must say that my favorite food experience along the way - believe it or not - was at a Long John Silver's in the mountains of West Virginia. Yes, one of those evil fast food chains. I hate the food. But it was nestled in a quaint little town in the hills and the brick-n-mortar was like a high school year book in building form - walls filled with pennants, signatures and cheers from local high school kids. We had a fun chat with the kids there too. It's been almost a year ago and I still remember it. It doesn't matter that it was a Long John Silver's. It was about the experience - and the connection we made with the locals during a 30-minute roadstop.
Your story got me thinking of a road trip that I am about to embark with my family into the maritime provinces of Canada.
Another time and place of my youth it seemed I made the trip almost every year while in college just to get away.
As children arrived the spontaneous classic family road trip just doesn't happen as easily and it now has a different meaning.
Road trips in our youth was the euphoria of hitting the road, chasing girls, climbing the mountain (maybe running from a relationship), you get the idea.
So traveling to a place I haven't been to in over six years I ask myself (besides how much is gas going to cost me?) what changes will have taken place, has American capitalism marred the naive landscape of the places I am traveling? Or might it be an improvement (that weould be a stretch, wouldn't it)?.
My hope is that my two children will be in awe like I was the first time I traveled to these places.
Serifs make this site the easiest to read of all the advertising sites. It is so easy to read that even despite linking the Marxist Amtrak rail system with capitalism slides by.
Two years ago, I drove cross country from Virginia to Denver with my brother. After four consecutive days of McDonald's/Wendy's/Burger King on the drive back, the mere thought of a burger and fries conjured nausea.
In sheer desperation, we decided to explore a tiny town in Iowa called Amana. There we found not only a German homesteader town, but also a place called Zuber's. It's located at the juncture of highways 6 and 151, and was founded by Bill Zuber the baseball player.
We were served family-style and ate our fill: german sausages, homemade sauerkraut, incredible potato salad, and goulashe. After greasy square patties and marshmallowy buns, it was a religious experience. We departed with a hefty bag of carryout and a jar of spicy dill pickled green beens for the road.
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