(aug 17, 1976 continued from Part I)
Now we are on 150 and seem to be moving slower than ever. We stopped at a suvanear (souvenir) shop and I bought a Indiana license plate.
Muffler broke on way to Widdeses. Clutch broke too. Went fishing with Danny and (his) friends. (He) teased me so (I) went back home.
See, I told you. Widdes lived in a large house in what seemed to be a pretty exclusive new development; one of the St. Louis Cardinals, a pitcher I think, lived across the street. The fact that our van had lost it's muffler and clutch in St. Louis rush-hour traffic and Danny's father had to come get us at a repair shop hadn't helped. I felt a little like a hillbilly.
It was the primary season for the '76 Presidential Election. I remember Danny's father, a bit of a pill himself, sitting in a red leather chair, watching TV in his den and complaining about Jimmy Carter. Danny's older sister was a sweetheart though and let my brother and I play with her tape recorder. We recorded several mock commercials and the type of silliness a ten and twelve-year-old are bound to produce.
aug 18, 1976
MO.
We went up in the Arch. It is cool -looks like this
Also went on a boat -boring. Got 3 more L-plates (license plates). Picked up van at repair st. on way home from Arch.
As planned, we stayed in St Louis for two days which actually made it the perfect place for our Van to break down. I enjoyed St. Louis more than I indicated. The Arch was awesome and we enjoyed the natural history museum in the complex below the Arch. The boat ride may have been boring in comparison, but it was both my first ride on the Mississippi and on a paddle boat. The part I remember most vividly was that the bathrooms were in the stern right in front of the huge rear paddle wheel. The dripping paddles were flying by the small bathroom window. Danny thought it would be amusing to feed the toilet paper from it's roll out the window and into the paddles. When the paddles caught hold of the paper the roll spun and rattled like crazy until it was gone. I was horrified by the waste and the disregard for the river (not to mention the poor guy that sat down there next). It was amusing though, I had to give him that.
I must confess, Danny also came through in showing me where there were some old cars in some nearby woods that I could liberate some Missouri license plates from. I figure he cared more about the theft and destruction (however minor) more than my license plate collection. I'm told Danny is now a stockbroker in Texas; appropriate on both counts.
aug 19, 1976
MO
Traveling on a lonely road. Made me cry a bit. Stopped at post office, wrote letters to Peter (Elia) and Kim (Herendeen). Played with T-bears (Teddy bears). Made Secr Ft (secret fort) under bench.
Apparently I could no longer be bothered with pronouns. I was loosing enthusiasm to journal and though I was compelled by my mom (thank God) to write an entry each day, I think I figured out that no one was going to be grading it or require 500 words or more.
My fort in the van was awesome! Well, no, not really awesome or even a fort at all, but it sure was to me. I didn't create it so much as discover it. I found that if I lied down under the long bench I could slide down until my head and shoulders were in the storage area of the chuck wagon where the tent was kept. It was like a separate room all my own.
I have learned that I need a certain amount of time to myself without anyone around, “Joelee time” my wife calls it. My fort was my little sanctuary of solitude. I went there when ever I needed a break from the family. When I was on the road in a tour bus, my bunk served a similar purpose.
Stopped in Hannible MO. Saw M. Twain's boyhood home, toured M. Twain's cave -very cold + I had no shirt on! Spent night at Old MacDonald's Farm Campground. Had amyozment (amusement) park and pool. Went swimming, met Chuck and Tammy -explored amyozment park, discovered old caboose. Slept in tent with Dad.
aug 20 1976
MO, Iowa and Neb
Woke at 6:00AM. Got stomach ache. Ate breakfast Wash up
Scheduled departure 7:00AM
Departed 7:30AM
Everybody took a nap sept for me and Dad.
Stopped for ice. Planned to spend the night North Platte (Nebraska)
We went to “Pioneer Village”. There was lots to see.
When we got to North Platte we camped at Cutty Jr.s Campground. We went swimming in a crowded pool. We met a boy named Brett and some other kids.
Went on a rotating swing. Looked like this...
See the scribbled sketch on the journal page above (not below)
aug 21
neb. Colo
Woke late, did chores, ate breakfast, Did more chores, Washed up, Packed, left.
Passed feed lots, Stunk!
entered Colorado. Plan to visit Heers in Colorado Springs!
are all very excited
Can't see rockys (Rockies) yet
The Heers were neighbors of ours which in our neighborhood meant that they were just under a mile away. They seemed an exotic family to us. They had come from England or Europe some place. The father was always at work and the mother was a rather over protective. My friend Eric was not allowed to play baseball because he had once been hit with a baseball bat; a lesson wasted I always thought.
We didn't end up visiting the Heers. I don't remember why exactly, but Colorado Springs was considerably out of the way so perhaps my request to see my friend Eric was unrealistic and met with a “we'll see” that really meant 'not a chance' and that I interpreted as 'sure, why not'.
There were a few things that happened on this day my journal missed but that are engrained in my memory deeply.
As the day wore on it got hot... really hot; the landscape was featureless and desolate to me and the novelty of it had worn thin. With no AC in the van we lay about like wet rags wilted by the hottest temperatures we (kids) had ever experienced. We had been away from home for almost as long as we ever had and never any further away. Telephone poles went by in a regular and infinite pace. They stretched out to the horizon. At this point I just wanted to be where we were going.
I saw a driveway to a ranch with a mailbox staked at the end but no house or building of any kind in sight—and it's not as though there were any hills or trees to hide behind. This, along with everything else, kinda freaked me out a bit. I imagined a kid about my age dreading the chore of 'getting the mail'. Even with his dirt bike it might take him an hour or more.
My parent's wanted to stop at a Native American historical site, having read “Centennial” the historical novel. There was a small museum and gift shop on a small rise in the middle of the prairie. There were a small number of kids in the place. An old authentic looking Indian gathered several of us in front of his desk in front of a picture window that made the prairie look more magical and beautiful than it had been through the window of our van. He spoke in low soft tones and took a small box from his desk. He took from it several stone arrowheads and gave us each one.
“I want you to have these as a gift,” he said, “in return I want you to remember something: Love. Not the mushy girl-boy love, but God's Love.”
At the time I remember feeling both the elation from having scored a real arrowhead from a real Indian, and kinda 'had' from being suckered into a Jesus commercial. Yet he said nothing more, just handed out the arrowheads and letting us go noisily on our various ways. I started thinking about what he said. It must mean a whole lot to him to give an arrowheads to every kid that passed through. I resolved to keep my end of the bargain. I lost the arrowhead almost immediately but I never forgot the simple lesson of God's love from that unlikely source.
Crossing Colorado from East to West is quite an experience. The prairie went on hour after hour. I knew there was mountains coming I could see them on the map. The pictures in the several pounds of literature the state had sent me for my report showed mountains and skiers, not endless blond hills and scorching temperatures. As they always do the mountains seemed to appeared almost instantly in the distance. Our whole family was glued to the front windshield as we drove towards them like Dorothy, Toto, The Scarecrow, The Tin Man, and The Cowardly Lion towards the Emerald City.
Who's who you ask... well I hadn't intended to take the analogy that far but, okay, what the hay: Dorothy: My mom, Toto: my five-year-old sister, The Scarecrow: my dad, The Tin Man: my brother (even though I once played him on stage myself), I, more because of my absurd sense of humor than cowardliness, am The Cowardly Lion. Happy now? Can we move on?
The journal continues from that same day...
Crossing Colrado prairie
Matt found lost mouse goliuth.
My best guess is that my brother had a stuffed mouse named “Goliath” he had lost in the van somewhere and it's discovery was pronounced enough for mention in my journal.
Stopted at ft collins ate lunch
Started a pop can top collection
going to string them together
make chain curtain
In days of yore, soft drink cans had tabs and pull rings that pulled clean off instead of remaining intact with the can like the modern ones do. The result was a mass litter of ring tabs everywhere people were drinking Cokes Pepsis and Tabs. There is an illustration the journal page above.
I don't know where I got the idea but I started collecting the things with the intent chaining them together by bending the tab portion around the ring of another one and-so-on. I meant to create a chain curtain for my bedroom doorway, I mean what could be cooler? I made an illustration on my journal page (above). From that point on, everywhere we went I was scanning the ground and picking up other peoples discarded soft drink can pull-tabs much to my mother's chagrin.
Arrived in loveland Colo
Met Uca (Uncle) Chuck and aunt Carrol cuz's David, Mark baby timers (Timmers) + foster child Hugh and David R. next store (next door).
I had never met this branch of my Mom's family before. She had been an only child, so her cousin Chuck was the only family she had near her age. They had moved from New York around the time I was born or before. David was my age and we got along immediately. Mark was a teenager and often took care of their infant brother Timmers. I remember Aunt Carol glowing over the fact that Mark was so good with the baby and thinking how odd it was to have a teenager, a preteen and a baby in the same family. The addition of a foster child, Hugh, was an entirely new concept to me, and also curious. Hugh, who they eventually adopted, had not been with the family very long and was still getting his bearings. He was an odd kid with all sorts of insecurities and a near narcolepsy that amused us several times during our stay.
As the adults caught up and did whatever adults do, the kids went to lower level of the split level home. We marveled at their latest toy: a helicopter that actually flew, albeit on a 12 inch solid tether in a circle.
This was it exactly!
Oh how I lusted to get my grubby little mits on the controls of this aeronautical wonder!
Oh how I lusted to get my grubby little mits on the controls of this aeronautical wonder!
It could go forwards or backwards, fast or slow, flying low or a couple inches higher. This combination of things proved magical and we watched them play with it for hours, drooling for our own chance to pilot an actual flying toy helicopter! After a while watcing Hugh play with it I ventured to ask if we could have a try. “No” Hugh said flatly.
This was going to be our longest stay in one place. I hoped it wasn't going to turn into another St. Louis with Danny the jerk.
| DOUBLE J's Double Take |
| A Music & Personal Update |
Then early last week I looked at the Tennis Channel calendar online to check on a couple dates I knew were coming up, some hours that kept me from panicking. The Tennis Channel hours had disappeared, poof, there one day, gone the next. I started to panic! A couple WTF phone calls and a rehearsal later, a bunch of work materialized as magically as the other stuff had disappeared. It was almost more work than I wanted. Almost... |
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