Tonight (last night really but I couldn't post because I was in a shitty hotel where their high-speed wireless wasn't working. Fuckers!) we are in the pits of hell, also known as Arkansas (Ark-can-sas if you are a Lane.) We are a few short miles from Okalahoma.
Today we drove from Ark-can-sas to Tennessee. My best friend of 16ish years, lives in Tennessee and I didn't have time to see her. We had to head back to Ark-can-sas before 4 p.m. so we could start our trek to Colorado. So, honey, if you are reading, sorry I missed you and I'll see you in July.
The cemetery I wrote about in my last post held so much of my interest I actually dreamt about the 14-day-old boy and all of the 5-year-olds who died so many years ago. I was happy to read your comments and thankful your interest also was with those children. My dreams built up some wild stories that included a doctor who looked just like Doc Baker from Little House. See, I'm even a freak in my sleep.
Lady Wyntir, great link! Thanks. That was not the cemetery but it just goes to show how many are forgotten long after their family members die off. For me, it reiterated the fact that I want to be cremated when it's my time to go.
I know many of you were looking forward to cemetery photos but I got a little weirded out and couldn't take any. I had some little voice telling me it is disrespectful of the dead, so basically, I chickened out.
Death has been a big part of this trip. No. The kids are still with us and Mr. Lane too, although there have been moments. Lots and lots of moments, which I'll get to soon. Anyhow, we saw a couple of crashes today and neither had a pleasant outcome. The first was at 6 this morning when a semi-truck took a motorcycle out. Crunched metal and a blue tarp wasn't a good way to start the day but may have helped keep Mr. Lane's eyes on the road a little more. The second was during rush hour, and included a box truck, a pickup truck and a rolled over sedan where the man was thrown through his window. He was being covered as we drove by. I thought about his family and the person under the blue tarp earlier in the day. I looked to the backseat at my kids, hoping they weren't rubbernecking like everyone else. They were. I thought about what might be going through their minds. We talked for a long time about crashes and death.
I so badly wanted to write last night but there was no internet to be had. We were staying in a Super 8 that wasn't super at all. In fact it sucked big hairy donkey balls. The kids were hoping to go swimming. Only problem was they shared a pool with another hotel, a block away and it was outside in a shitty neighborhood. What kind of podunk rinky-dink hotel advertises a pool that isn't actually on their own property? Super Donkey Ball Suckers, that's who.
Today is a bit of a blur but yesterday, memories were embedded into my brain that I may never shake. We stopped for lunch at a tiny roadside (shack) barbeque stand. Mr. Lane had been talking about this place at least half of the trip. He really wanted to go. It was in a really crappy part of town so I told Mr. Lane and the kids to chill and I went to fetch lunch. It was a small red building with a hand-painted sign that read, "The BBQ Man". It had a tiny walkup window where when you looked in to place your order, your eyes met the crotch pf the man running the joint. He had a nice big package but I was hungry for BBQ and I'm partial to white meat.
In the parking lot there were a few trucks a couple of old beat up cars and one Cadillac. As I was walking back to the truck with a stack of styrofoam containers in my hands, I happened to look up. I saw a man sitting in his truck and just as I was thinking, "Don't make eye contact." I saw a head come up from his lap. My eyeballs couldn't be turned from that scene to save my life. I was like one of those wide-bulgy-eyed cartoon characters "BLINK, BLINK," went my eyes.
The truck driver was smiling. The "lady" put her mouth to the bend of her arm and in a swiping motion, slid her arm across her mouth. My mind was telling me, "That did not just happen! Ewww!"
I didn't think it could get any weirder than that, until, the "lady" was handed a small plate of ribs as she exited the truck. More than anything I wanted to ask her if she just sucked some guy's dick for some barbequed ribs but there was no time for that because she quickly hopped into the passenger side of the Cadillac. And away they went.
I really wanted to tell Mr. Lane about what I had just witnessed but the kids perked up when I got back laughing and shaking my head. Enquiring minds and whatnot. I started thinking about some of the things they may see while on the road and thought, what the hell? Better for them to hear about this sort of thing from their mom, right?
Never think your children are too young to hear something was my lesson for the day. After I told the story of the lot lizard (that's trucker talk for roadside hooker) my sweet baby girl said, "Mom, exactly how did you get those ribs?" Little smart ass!
Tomorrow and Sunday we are headed to Oklahoma, Kansas and then to Colorado. Stay tuned for more stories from the road. I've learned all sorts of interesting things like if Mr. Lane and I lived together fulltime, he'd be dead. I finally figured out who has the best coffee. I picked up some new lingidy called CB speak. I also found out the proper way to order up a lot lizard. Y'all come back now, ya hear?