"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com


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On the Road Again

When you're stuck inside studying all the time, it's easy to forget all of the beautiful sights and sounds going on around you. That's why all of the highway driving I've been doing since the end of the semester is so good for me. It gets me back in the game and puts a little bit of perspective on things. Before I continue, I want to make something clear. I was raised in the South, and I will be the first to say that some of the stereotypes are just not fair. I have never seen a gun, much less supported the right to bear one, I am a Democrat, I am a Jew, I am Pro Choice, I am not a bigot, I shower daily, I do not drive a pickup truck or chew on hay, I do not drink mint juleps (I don't even know what they're made of!) or Jack Daniels from a mysterious paper bag, and I do not have a farmer's tan. And more importantly, I am not anomolous in this respect: I know tons and tons of people, just like me, who populate the various Southern states. (I do say y'all, but I will be happy at another time to fully defend that word. It is very useful, and is much less irritating than a constant, whiny "you guys...you guys...")

But all of this is beside the point. Although I did grow up in the South, I never got a real taste of the roadside establishments that populate all of that lost space between actual cities. Now that I have, I have come to one important conclusion. The South seriously knows how to do gas stations. (Incidentally, they also do a mean billboard. My personal favorite is: "I Miss You, Let's Talk Soon. Love, God." That one really made me question my faith and my life choices). When you go to a gas station in the South, you're not just getting petroleum and the usual pre-packaged food. You're getting any or all of the following: home-cooked food (there's usually a "kitchen" in the back for fixing up 99 cent breakfast biscuits, ribs (from baby's backs?!), or hot wings; none of which did I sample, but all of which were certainly completely sanitary and not cooked anywhere near the restrooms), a State-themed clothing line, dishware, home security devices, hunting gear, musical birthday cards, furry toilet seat covers, and the best selection of bumper stickers your heart could desire. I purchased one of the latter that featured a simple drawing of a beer can bearing a Rebel flag and a label reading "Whoop Ass," with a caption alongside proclaiming in no uncertain terms, "DON'T MAKE ME OPEN THIS!" I really, really want to put it on my car, but I am resisting the urge (for now). I searched for the old favorite, "My Kid Can Beat Up Your Honor Roll Student," but those appeared to be out of stock.

I don't know if this is a Southern thing, but I have a weakness for the old $1.99 tapes that they keep up by the register in gas stations. I looked at one rack and spotted, to my extreme elation, Kool and the Gang's greatest hits, including (gasp) "Ladies' Night"! I also grabbed a Rick Springfield tape because, really, who doesn't like "Jessie's Girl" now and then on a long drive? In my car right now I have tapes by Styx, Pat Benetar, The Sex Pistols, and Nanci Griffith. They serve as nice supplements to my cd collection. But I was a little bit ashamed of the B music I was purchasing this time, especially because of the skeptical look I got from the woman at the register. I got a little flustered, and was going to explain to her that my purchases were kind of ironic--that I thought it was cool to have a few old cheesy tapes around in my car for fun. But I looked into her disapproving eyes and all the eloquence was reduced to: "I like tapes." She said nothing, and I felt like an ass. But when I got on the open road and popped in Kool and the Gang as the wind blew through my hair, I knew it was all worthwhile.

posted by Bekah at 10:57 PM :: |