The Trip

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I took off from Dobbs headed towards Staten Island at around seven in the morning on Monday. I’d put off packing all week so the weekend was a flurry of throwing things into bags and squishy-packs, wrapping up with Dad and I cramming everything into the little Honda at six-thirty that morning. It all worked out, room to spare. I hugged Mom and Dad, tried not to cry, and took off out of the driveway and into the street probably a little too fast.

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Limbeck - Gamblin’ Man

Who wants to go on a road trip? I just listened to Hi, Everything’s Great for the first time in months if not years, and I’m totally ready to (go to New York and pick up a car and then) go on a road trip.

Do you wanna come?

I don’t care where we go, I just don’t want to stop until I’m somewhere completely different from here. Not on the east coast. New York and Massawhosetts feel too much alike. I wanna get outta here.

Let’s get shitty food at diners and stop at The World’s Largest Ball of Twine and watch the sun come up from behind a dirty windshield and sleep in the back seat and get lost and get found and hang out with some cows on the side of the road and look at the clouds.

Does that actually happen? Do people do that? Just get up and go?

I’m sure The World’s Largest Ball of Twine is somewhere in the contiguous United States. Let’s find it.

No GPS. That’s cheating. Maps, motherfucker.

Let’s get snacks and gas late at night at a gas station in the middle of nowhere and after the car’s all set take a minute and look around. It’s late so it’s finally cooled off, and the bugs are buzzing around the florescent lights, and not our heads. It’s quiet, but maybe someone’s got a radio on a little ways away. The air feels different out here, not like wherever we’re from. You ever get that? Late at night at a gas station? The moment at which you realize you’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto; you’re officially Somewhere Else when you step out from under the almost-too-bright gas station overhang and see so many stars. The air has a different quality, and maybe it’s because it’s not rushing over your outstretched arm and blowing your hair all over the place at 80 miles an hour anymore, or maybe it’s because something fundamental has changed.

That’s my favorite part of the trip.

And dudes, I really like Limbeck.