cross country with cats

Apr 062017
 

It’s day four of our cross-continental journey and we’re on the home stretch; we can feel it. There is a pressure now that was not present before. No one wants to stop at rest areas. No one needs to stretch for a few minutes. It is all go go go, let’s get this thing wrapped up once and for all.

Fortunately, the path we are on today is conducive to this sort of urgency, as today we traverse Kansas. No turning, no change of highway, none of that, just one straight dash across the Great Plains to our destination.


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Apr 052017
 

Day three was the first day in more than 13 years where I was no longer a resident of the South.

This is more significant than simply no longer living in North Carolina. The South is bigger and more meaningful. And, from my point of view, worse. Much worse.

I am not a fan of the South. I realize that many are, maybe even some who might read this column. I apologize in advance for the offenses I am about to cause. Because the South is different, in ways that you can’t really fathom until you’ve lived there, and because most of those differences are bad.
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Apr 042017
 

When I woke up I realized that it was my first day in over a decade where I no longer live in North Carolina.

This was obviously not a surprise, but nonetheless it felt profound. And significant.

A whole lot of life lies ahead of me, and none of it will take place in North Carolina.
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Apr 032017
 

And they’re off

An epic journey should yield epic tales, stories of heroism that will echo through the ages. Think Ulysses, or Beowulf, or Darwin on The Beagle.

Epic journeys and epic tales.

Using that as a scale, my recent adventures in multiple state crossings seem rather mundane. Which is fine, because that means I only have to come up with mundane tales and stories, which I am rather well-suited to produce. Mundane, banality, tripe: my specialties!
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