From Denver:
Peckman is spearheading a Denver ballot initiative to create an 18-member Extraterrestrial Affairs Commission that would form a strategy “dealing with issues related to the presence of extraterrestrial beings on Earth” and how humans and aliens can peacefully coexist.
Set aside all other (totally legitimate) objections to this plan, why does the commission need 18 people? I mean, after Dennis Kucinich, what are the other 17 going to do?
What kind of car was actually parked there? Not a Ferrari.
Here’s another Los Angeles housing price chart:
Via LA Land and Westside Bubble.
My favorite search engine query that led someone to find RumorsDaily yesterday:
They were drawn in by this spirited discussion.
The best trailer ever… if only I knew ANY Japanese. Via Yes But No But Yes.
jbg:
driving. all day. lots of desert. and the cacti that brian really likes.
we breezed into l.a. at about 7pm. unloaded brian’s stuff. i’m still half-in and half-out of my car.
dinner at a cuban place in culver city. fantastic plantains.
now, beer.
good night everyone. thanks for tuning in!
CDs logged: orange blossom special (johnny cash); tommy (the who); nuggets, volume 2; vampire weekend (again, for brian); the harder they come (jimmy cliff); beach boys greatest hits, volumes 1 and 2.
jbg:
we’ve now crossed 2 time zones and are in a state without daylight savings time (”because it’s stupid,” said one arizonian avec twang). i’m a bit washed in the head, and there’s a lot to cover. so here we go!
we escaped from hobbs with hardly a scratch. however, as i jogged along north marland, a big angry dog in a pickup truck started yelling at me, causing me to jump about 6 feet in the air and fear for my life (he was really pissed off). finished my jog and got the hell outta dodge.
then, a 3-hour drive to roswell, new mexico, where a ufo ostensibly crashed about 60 years ago and was subsequently covered up by the government. in short, awesome. we laid down our 5 bucks and visited the international ufo museum and research center (www.roswellufomuseum.com) — and yes, we also thought it should really be the “intergalactic” ufo museum and reasearch center. it’s everything you want it to be and more! roswell’s main drag is a smorgasbord of ufo-jokey-gift shops and local businesses that milk the alien thing as much as possible. it’s a nerd paradise! i bought a magnet.
then, a long-ass drive through new mexico until we reached white sands national park, an 8-mile area featuring huge white sand dunes, caused by natural forces that we learned about in a video, but promptly forgot. thanks for the suggestion, everyone — we loved it. it’s a beautiful area, and we had a ton of fun playing around in the sand — which felt like a weird cross between a snowstorm and a beach. some fantastic photos will be part of the huge glut of pictures to be uploaded next week.
it was a long, dry, warm drive to get into arizona, but we finally made it across the border. we got to our best western in willcox at about 8pm — only to find that it was actually 7pm in arizona. once situated at the “hopi lounge” to watch the celtics/pistons game (celts win their first postseason road game! woooot!), our awesome bartendress, sue, explained the thing about arizona not participating in daylight savings time (”because it’s stupid.”) sue was great. after 2 dos equis, she said to me: “i know you’re a transplant to boston, because you don’t got no boston accent,” at which point i laughed and explained that i had lived in boston my whole life.
ahh, the south and southwest. nearly empty bars. cowboy hats. spurs. twangs. racial epithets dropped in casual convesation. and fucking excellent hot sauce.
this time tomorrow, we live in los angeles. anyone want to give me a job?
CDs logged: the age of plastic (the buggles); the crane wife (the decemberists); darkness on the edge of town (bruce springsteen); full moon fever, into the great wide open, wildflowers (tom petty); made in the dark (hot chip); magic (bruce springsteen); nuggest, volume 1.
jbg:
so, an update. on nacho’s suggestion, we ate at cattle baron, a steakhouse/seafood/salad bar. we thoroughly enjoyed the salad bar, the bread, the spinach artichoke dip, and i had a good time with a “fat tire” on draught, a nice caramel-ish amber wheat ale. entrees were good if not overly impressive: brian liked his steak and i thought the catfish was a solid choice, though i harbor a teensy bit of regret over not trying the orange-bourbon salmon.
but enough of that: we drove back to our motel, parked the car, and headed right across the street to the hobbs family inn, where if you enter a forbidding door off the lobby, you will find a tiny little divey honky-tonk, complete with cowboy hats, spurs, and a guitarist playing country against a drum machine. faneffingtastic. a whole host of oddities await you in this little space — and the beer (no daught; bottles only) runs you a cool 3 bucks.
after a few rounds, we were about ready to jet, since it was getting crowded. but not before i bonded with a tall thin latino dude wearing a red sox hat — he verified his sox status with a huge grin, wide arms, and his proclamation: “i love big papi!” and we high-fived.
after a few minutes, he turns to me and says: “man, it’s nothing but old ladies in here!” and we laughed. i shook my head and defended myself: “don’t ask me, i’m from outta town.” he says: “i don’t think us red sox fans are doing too well tonight.”
now we’re trying to book for tucson. 48 hours from now, we’ll be in los angeles.
jbg:
friday was a fun and harrowing day (aren’t they all?)
started out heading north to san antone, where we saw the alamo. i desperately wanted to ask where the basement is, but it’s just not that kind of environment. lots of school groups, no official tour, wandering, and hard-core sherrif-looking people guarding the important stuff. it was way cool.
then we had lunch in a mall food court. meh.
but the best part was the long afternoon drive northward towards new mexico. lots of really pretty landscapes, plateaus, mesas(?) and brush. the highways are long and traffic is sparse. temperatures reached the 100s, it feels, but we (and the car) were fine.
also, we saw a really giant shovel attached to a truck: clearly some kind of construction tool. it was mobile and terrifying to pass. it was yellow. brian loved it.
finally, after about 7 hours, we reached our fiday night stomping ground of hobbs, new mexico — birthplace and home of our very own nacho. nacho’s hometown is under some construction right now, so the main drag is a little baffling and scary. and there was some drama regarding finding the motel. but the less said about that, the better.
we’ve crossed another time zone! two down, one to go.
but the good news is that across the street there’s a steakhouse with a bar. go lakers!
CDs logged: greetings from asbury park, born to run, nebraska, born in the usa, the rising (bruce springsteen); london calling (the clash); scarecrow (john mellencamp); i get wet (andrew w.k.); appetite for destruction (guns ‘n roses).
jbg:
huzzah for thirsty thursdays! but more on that later. your humble narrator was feeling penitent after the n’orleans gorgefest, so i started out the day with a muggy/humid 10-lap run around the parking lot of our hotel in baton rouge. after some fruit salad and a sorta-stale biscuit, we hit the road again.
a little bit about driving: brian and i have developed a regular schedule. i typically drive the ford from 9am-ish until 2:30 or so (with a lunch stop), while brian drives in the afternoons to whatever “fun” destination we’ve planned (dinner, e.g.) and then to our hotel at night. works pretty well — but for some reason, i seem to get all of the roadwork during my drive time. also, it leaves me with an inability to take photos, since i’m driving, so most of my pictures/videos are taken after 4pm.
and, oh yeah, there are a shitload of dead bugs all across my windshield. totally gross! we clean at every gas stop — but they just keep committing buggy suicide on my ride.
when in texas, i highly recommend stopping in vidor and having lunch at jody leigh’s, a darlin’ little roadside stop that might just be the best and friendliest meal you’ll have all day. great timing: the skies opened up and poured in a flashy lightning show — but only for the exact 45 minutes we were scarfing down our lunch. nice! our waitress was a hoot (although brian keeps calling her a “filthy liar” for telling us we wouldn’t get to corpus christi until dark — we arrived well before the sun went down). i had the cajun shrimp burger with grilled onions and grilled jalapenos. it was incredible.
hilarious signs decorating jody leigh’s walls: “fat people are harder to kidnap,” “honey, i didn’t ask you to dance, i said you look fat in those pants.” also, there was a giant chicken statue outside. everything about this place was great.
then, a long-ass drive to corpus christi. we arrived at 6:30pm, just in time for a game at whattaburger field, home of the corpus christi hooks (houston’s triple-A affiliate)! astros pitcher wandy rodriguez got the start, so that was cool. it’s a beautiful, newish park — and oddly enough, they have a mini-citgo sign out in right field, that lights up in the same patterns as the big citgo sign in kenmore square. the hooks dropped a close one, 4-3, but hey — today was thirsty thursday! that means draught beers were half-price! wooooot! i love minor league parks: i got a slice of pizza, a jalapeno-stuffed pretzel, and 2 huge beers, all for 12 bucks.
quick fantasy baseball update: thanks to a mike lowell grand slam (!), i’m kicking the crap out of brian! best. trip. EVER!
now we’re at our hotel — a drury inn. everyone’s so nice down here, and generally pretty funny. the check-in guy was no exception. even though brian rented the room, he asked for my name, “in case of emergency. o’ course, i always plan my emergencies for earlier in the week, so you should be fine.”
and, oh yeah, they have a treadmill.
CDs logged: smile (the jayhawks); the ghosts that haunt me (crash test dummies); time was (steve barkhimer); morrison hotel (the doors); being there (wilco); post-war (m. ward); honeycomb (frank black); venue songs (they might be giants).
jbg:
another long day. georgia, alabama, mississippi, and louisiana in just 9 hours. holy shit!
we were barely in georgia this morning, hitting the road at 9:30am and rocketing right into alabama. brian is having a hell of a hard time maintaining his goal of buying a souvenir shotglass in every state — and i gave up on my similar idea of postcard-collecting a few days ago. some of these rest stops just aren’t very well stocked with such goods. corn nuts, yes. casino gambling, sure. miniature confederate flags, you bet. shotglasses and postcards? surprisingly lacking.
a little after noon, we decided to “get lost” in greenville, alabama and find a local lunch spot. we’re frankly tired of subways and other chains. so we found the “historic” downtown greenville (all 2 blocks of it) and had a delightful lunch at “the chef’s table,” a cute little buffet-style spot run by a slew of lil’ old ladies who were jus’ darlin’, and chided brian for not eating enough. your humble narrator, however, gorged himself on the fish sandwich, cornbread and fried okra.
there were a few dodgy gas stations and rest stops on the way — including RJ’s barbecue exxon, where you can get 2 bbq sandwiches for $6, and the aforementioned confederate flag mementos.
then the exciting part. we convinced mandy, our lovely little GPS helper, to take us the long way into n’orleans — via the lake pontchartrain causeway. it consists of two parallel bridges that, together, make up the longest bridge in the world (in total length). it was quite lovely and extremely bumpy. we were on it for 20-25 minutes to get to jefferson parish. you know, where all that shit went down.
and then — n’orleans! we valet parked in the french quarter and wandered around until we found a menu good for both of us (brian doesn’t like spicy food or fish. why exactly am i friends with him?) we settled on la bayou restaurant (la has an accent of some sort over it) and it was rad. first of all, they recommended an albida amber ale (albida’s a local brewery) and delivered it in a giant 22-oz plastic cup. then, we were offered an albida summer wheat — which may be (actually, IS) even better than a sam summer.
for dinner? brian went with a filet mignon (”good, but spicy” — how are those two adjectives distinct?!) and me — i went with the special, which was an incredible pesto with gulf shrimp, crab meat, and crawfish. holy crap, it was incredible. and for dessert? why, the pecan pie with vanilla bean ice cream, of course! at this point, i was drunk and taking photos of the food because, well, how else would i remember it? the waitstaff was baffled. one waitress stood behind me quizzically. the bartender came over and said: “man, that pie looks so good, i’ma gonna take a pitcher of it — oh wait, you already did!” we all had a laugh. then i ate delicious, delicious pie.
next, a lovely drive over more bridges and marshland to get to baton rouge, where we now lay our weary heads. but only for a few minutes, because the second half of lakers-spurs is starting up soon, and there’s a bar named corky’s just a couple of yards away!
CDs logged: out of time, accelerate (2 albums by rem); the stage names (okkervil river); highway 61 revisited (bob dylan); state songs (john linnell); 12 golden country greats (ween); blood on the tracks (bob dylan); ghost colors (cut copy).
jbg:
today was all about getting from richmond to atlanta by 7pm for a braves-mets game. we hit the road earlyish, dismayed at some morning showers. but those cleared up swiftly and we found ourselves spending 8 hours or so on 85-S, also known as “jeremy’s favorite highway ever.” sparse traffic for most of it (though a little congested near durham, nc), and relatively little confusion.
85 unleashed jeremy’s personal speed demon and the rookie driver reaches speeds of 80+ before turning the keys over to brian for the remainder of the day.
at 5:45pm we hit a wall of traffic outside of ted turner’s stomping grounds and wound up going from “very early for the game” to “we might not make first pitch at 7:10.” on top of that, it is damn near impossible to find turner field using either a) road signs, b) a GPS or c) common sense. we almost found it by accident — but never quite found the parking for which we pre-paid. we did find other parking for which we paid… again. and rushed to make the 7:10 start time.
which was moot — rain delays kept the game from starting until 8:50pm. we were safely under cover in the upper deck for the early part of the storm and were treated to some lovely visuals of dark clouds and lightning. then, the levees burst and we got fully dumped on: rain, wind, thunder, wrath of Ted, etc. got nice and soaked for a solid 15 minutes.
then, a rainbow.
then, baseball.
then, we left after the 7th inning stretch.
turner field was full to maybe 19% capacity. and yes, they still do that “tomahawk chop” business which is really fairly inappropriate.
but hey, guess what they have at turner field? veggie burgers! so, that was a bonus.
now we’re at a best western outside atlanta with a wake-up call scheduled for 7:30am.
tomorrow: new orleans and baton rouge!
CDs logged: mix by jay; mix by brian; graceland (paul simon - yes, again); deja vu (csny); blonde on blonde (bob dylan); stand by me (soundtrack); sticky fingers (rolling stones); bat out of hell (meat loaf).
jbg:
this morning i began the first leg of what can safely be called the ridiculous and ill-conceived plan: move to los angeles and, oh yeah, drive there. got my license 2 months ago. got a car 6 weeks ago. turn west: now go.
to summarize: today was easily one of the 3 most trying and difficult days of my life. spoiler alert: i made it safely to dc to pick up brian and then we made it safely to a days inn near richmond. that’s where i’m currently typing this report.
started in boston, drove through hartford, nyc, baltimore, stopped in dc and then headed to richmond. where did i first get lost? why, in boston, of course. lived there for 29 years and today, i couldn’t find the pike. circled around government center and the north end for about 30 minutes before finally making it rightward to I-90 and then I-84.
experts advised taking the tappan zee bridge and avoiding the g.w. bridge and 95 until jersey. well i saw one sign for the tappan zee, and never another. took 87 through a toll (by the way: i’ve spent about $190 in tolls today) and the kind little new york toll lady gave me a dirty look and said “naw,” when i asked if this was the way to the tappan zee. luckily, i was already driving away at that point. missed the tappan zee, and so missed any chance at swiftness and promptly wound up driving on 278 through the bronx, queens, brooklyn and possibly staten island.
never thought i’d say this: but i was so happy to be in new jersey. finally. basically smooth sailing until a brief mix-up in baltimore — but, serendipitously, the GPS took me by camden yards to get back on the highway, so there’s that.
a little bit of a traffic slow-down in maryland — why? because of a couch in the middle of the highway. a few miles later, a couch cushion came flying at me and i expertly swerved to avoid it.
but this is long and boring. here i am in our motel room, finally internetting, and what do i learn? red sox pitcher jon lester threw a no-hitter tonight to celebrate my departure from the hub. thanks jon! but the best part is two-fold: 1) i added lester to my fantasy team this week and 2) my current opponent coincidentally happens to be my traveling companion! someone up there is smiling at me! it’s about time.
CDs logged: who’s next (the who); mixes by jay (2); mix by merv; graceland (paul simon); vampire weekend (vampire weekend); momofuku (elvis costello); legend (bob marley); who’s next (again).
The Route. Track progress here.
For some reason, this line about Doug’s 1st Movie in Ebert’s review of The Matrix pops into my head every few months:
What happens then to the billions who have just been “unplugged” from the Matrix? Do they still have jobs? Homes? Identities? All we get is an enigmatic voice-over exhortation at the movie’s end. The paradox is that the Matrix world apparently resembles in every respect the pre-Matrix world. (I am reminded of the animated kid’s film “Doug’s 1st Movie,” which has a VR experience in which everything is exactly like in real life, except more expensive.)
That always sounded funny.
I’m jealous of Uzbekistan’s Door to Hell. Via Reddit.
Woot! Totally free money that’s not coming from anywhere important and with no long term consequences attached to its payment and no obvious need to ultimately recoup it and not at all a flimsy government attempt to confuse the populace! I’m gonna buy a dirt bike!
