After a relentless marathon of home
bathroom remodeling and preparing for
departure for a 5-month sojourn to
Philadelphia--to help Sarah, already there, with
her big art project, which entails about 16
separate installations, the
first of which she completed today in
Reading--it was a relief to get behind the wheel
and have nothing more to do than drive a few
thousand miles. Easy! I packed but two CDs for the
trip: Nirvana and Black Sabbath. I rolled the
window down and cranked Nevermind up as I said
goodbye to Seattle, treating pedestrians to a
timeless throwback, the hairs on my arms standing
up cuz that music hits the spot. For the longest
time, I was a Nirvana skeptic, arrogantly thinking
that anything so popular couldn't be good. How
dumb was that? They really had something. Then I
listened to Sabbath as overloaded truck labored up
mountain
pass. I could hear what a big influence they
were on Nirvana's sound, but though I like their evocative lyrics,
Sabbath doesn't deliver the emotion and upliftment
I get from Nirvana. In addition to the tunes, I
packed 9 apples, two and half chocolate bars, and
a jar of peanuts. Think that's enough? Only got
lost once so far, in Kennewick
Costco parking lot, where I drove like the local eponymous caveman,
making one wrong turn after another due to poor
reception GPS lag. I'm ambivalent about motor
vehicles--I know they're bad and spent years
strenuously advocating
for alternatives, but as a child three of my
favorite toys were parking garages; I was
thoroughly conditioned. When I keyed my
destination into map app, it told me it would take
922 hours because it had defaulted to walking. The
algorithm wants me to be my best self.
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