Tuesday, 18 March 2008

4.8.0.0

That's how many miles we drove on our Great American Holiday. Frantically trying to make it to San Fran to see Marsh and meet Gunther, and then back to LA to catch the flight back to NY to catch the flight back home to Germany. (And yes, I'm afraid Germany officially qualifies as my home now). 

What are my impressions?

Overall, I'd have to say the sameness. In a negative way. Every city (and you could make a list!) had the McD's, Burger King, Taco Bell,  and then moving up in people amounts had the other requisite chains crowding alongside the roads: Cracker Barrel, Outback, Texas Roadhouse, etc. And the servings. Each meal we had enough for two people on each plate. And nothing tasted the way I remember it in my fond dreamings. (Except Braum's hamburgers, heaven on a bun, seriously.)

I kid you not. What a depressing thing.

Another thing that was surprising in its irritation? The God channels on the telly. Now, I have a  disclaimer: everyone can believe what they want, do what they want, it's their life. This is ONLY MY OPINION.

But when some fat overblown hustler tries to tell me as a woman I should be small, retiring, look to my husband for everything, and in the same breath tells my husband that he should be "the Decider" in the relationship, able to resort to corporeal punishment if necessary - then I get seriously PO'd. And it was flabbergasting...women and men sitting there in the audience, nodding and smiling at his words. (Oh, and then tries to sell his 32,95 CD of greatest god speaks that he just incidentally got from the Lord Up There...)

Un-fricking-believable.

I always thought that the Europeans and particularly Germans I met were unnecessarily harsh on my home country for their simple "how ya doin'"s. I never noticed before that it was truly irritating. They don't ask because they want to know, they ask because it's a social necessity to get out of the way and avoid conflict. My recommendation to you? Don't ask me how I am if you don't want to know. I'm okay with basic service. I don't need the flake.

But let me tell you NICE things too!

Arizona. New Mexico. San Francisco. The vistas and views gave me so much information to incorporate into my fertile imagination.
 
Kokopelli! Kachina dolls! Can I hear a w00t w00t!

Oceans. I don't see enough oceans.

Driving along with the hubs, exploring even from the highway. I always wished I could have been a pirate. This was almost the next best thing.

And OH the exchange rate. W00000T!! Seriously gooooood!

2 comments:

Heidi the Hick said...

road trip= pirate.

Yup. I've thought of that before!

The thing that bums me about our American road trips is the interstate travel. It's great, it really gets us where we're going, but we don't get to see the real scenery. And I hate billboards.

Sometimes it's fun to get lost...

JKB said...

I agree. We happened to do that in California, and it was absolutely bizarre. Like we'd stepped onto another land - like Ireland, or something. I never thought that little gem would be hiding there in the hills of dusty California.

I know. But I SOOOO wanted to be a pirate. So bad.