5/24: Springfield, MA

It's amazing how better things go when you're not hauling a hangover around. Have I mentioned that?

We awoke in late- morning and kept Lucy the Dog company while we drank the coffee Stacey had made us before heading off to work. We took advantage of one of our last opportunities to shower before heading off to parts- unknown Tuesday then made our way to the nearby Friendly's for lunch, coffee, and time killing before eventually finding myself back at Gus' for yet another barbecue.

It was here that we conceptualized an idea that is sure to make us millions. It's either a street- theater performance, or a television show to be aired on Comedy Central or Adult Swim. Working title: The Christs. It stars Jesus as the youthful, loving, stoner- hippie who has a dysfunctional relationship with his absentee father, and has never gotten over the fact that he abandoned him to the Romans. Jesus has issues. Other characters include Judas, Noah, Moses, Joseph (who is convinced Mary is cheating on him) and others. I believe we even worked Nibblitz into the pilot. Yes, a classic in the making and to think: you knew me when I wrote beneath a tarp in the woods! I wont forget you... promise.

Chris had made arrangements to have dinner with Dave's family, and I thought it best to let them have their space. Plus, I wouldn't feel comfortable in that setting and passing it up would give me a chance to hang out with Gus a bit more. Once dropped off, I grabbed a couple beers, ate some killer barbecue, and was happily people watching when I was literally drug, kicking and screaming, into a conversation with Meagan.

Meagan is a 30- year old, mixed- race, new, idealistic attorney. An oxymoron to be sure. She initially appeared to me to be in her early 20's, and I thought probably just out of college based on her ironclad leftist, cliche'- filled rhetoric. She also seemed quite fascinated by our travels, and we spent a good 90- minutes discussing my sociopolitical philosophy with race- relations sprinkles thrown on for good measure. I always enjoy conversations with those who are "highly educated", especially when they have only institutional fare to offer. Makes me happy I saved the money.

It was good conversation for the most part, but inevitably Moral Superiority came up, again. She was of the opinion that anyone who is wealthy should be REQUIRED to offer assistance to the poor or be "thrown out of society." In other words, her social ideals are of such "rich, righteous quality" that they must be imposed on others, and refusal risks banishment to the wilds. This is the same sort of dangerous moral superiority and downright self- righteousness that the left decries in the Religious Right and the very same that leads, in its extremes, to atrocities such as genocide- when applied to race. She didn't like the comparison. I didn't much care.

What I did care about, as you may have noticed, was lack of originality- of- thought and an inability (or unwillingness?) to see this glaring hypocrisy. She was cleverly (and passionately) parroting the approved talking points and ideals dictated by her cultural and ideological elites, all the while touting herself as an "individual." She was quite at home proudly quoting, almost hiding within, the slogans and "issues" of today's "Progressives." "Heath Care Now!" "Hope!" "Change!" "Tax the Rich!"

I chose to exit the conversation before it became contentious, and besides, another Chris had joined the conversation to interject sanity. This Chris is Gus' roommate and also an attorney. He was having fun picking her apart, and we even named her ideology: Meaganism. Half religion and part Ocatvianism- A moral code created by Barack, Hillary, & Meagan and punishable by death.

The next few hours saw Chris return from Dave's, and we both settled in to people watching while picking & choosing our conversations. One of which was with Lawyer Chris. I got some excellent information on how to deal with the occasional aggressive, stray swine. His advice? Never offer anything beyond the basic, general information, and if arrested NEVER speak until you've spoken to a lawyer. Also, if under suspicion of DUI, NEVER submit to tests of ANY kind including field sobriety, and SAY NOTHING! I can vouch for the last one, but Christ! where was he 15- years ago??

Neither Friar Chris or I were in a mood to get ripped, so we slowly withdrew and waited for the bash to end so we could claim the lawn and sleep. As fate would have it, I was not quite finished with Meagan. After cleaning up, we were inside sort of exhaling when the discussion again turned to politics. I believe Gus and I were discussing Obama, & when I mentioned my decision not to vote, a wave of stale cliches came sailing my way. My favorite: "Then you can't complain!" Since we were apparently dealing in pre- fabricated slogans, I used George Carlin: "I'll sure as fuck complain. You're the ones that put Fuckface in office, not me!"

I'm not sure whether it was that she takes our civic duty a bit too seriously, or if she secretly wishes to spawn with Mr. Obama, but before I could add that choosing not to vote because you support neither candidate IS a vote- of omission- she went into a (cliche- riddled) fury! Next it was the fact that I have nothing to say because "You don't pay taxes!" Taxes? Really, Nancy Reagan? Know anything about the dubious birth and history of income taxation or of the Federal Reserve? No? Then fuck you. Contrary to conventional thought, paying taxes is NOT something ordained by nature as a birthright!

You do realize that blacks were only recently given the "right" to vote, and without an "as long as they pay taxes" clause in the legislation. Should there have been? Or should everyone beneath a certain "contribution" level just shut the fuck up because they are "lesser quality citizens?"

That comment infuriated me, and at this point I was done being the "good- guest." I obviously have strong opinions on taxation, and none include the notion that they entitle anyone to citizenship. It was time to dismantle the pretentious bitch, but when I suddenly realized just how angry I had become, and how quickly, I shut down in order to keep some dignity. When you argue with a fool, others can't tell the difference.

Gus & I went outside leaving her to sit, still intact, on the couch talking her Mary Poppins-meets-Stalin nonsense. I am astounded and saddened to think that Meagan is the face of the only viable alternative ideology to Bush/ Cheney. If that's the choice I'm given, I'll never "vote" again.

Gus, Friar Chris, and I chatted for a bit and soon we were in the bivies asleep preparing mentally for Memorial Day and an afternoon with Chris's family, which was to include a final visit with his dad before we hit the road west.

5/22: Springfield, MA: Alex

Chris & I left the Amtrak station on- foot for the short walk to his friend Angus's house. Chris had been telling me for the better part of a year that he and I "needed to meet" because we have similar views and opinions on social & political ideas. This has always felt like something that was an important part of the trip, and missing it by omitting Mass. would have bothered me for a long time. He also began filling me in on some of the intense family/ friend based drama he had been dealing with, and in a somber manner that I was a bit unaccustomed to seeing from him. His week in Springfield had obviously been intense.

The walk was 2- 3 miles, but we would be delayed.

After perhaps a mile of walking through some of Springfield's most "interesting" & run down neighborhoods, we were approached by a young man who, for once, was more of a spectacle than we. He was wearing a red tank top, and red balloon pants... riding a unicycle.

Yes, a unicycle.

He spoke with a thick East London accent, and was asking all kinds of questions about what we were doing because, "you never see backpackers walking the streets of Springfield!" I didn't mention that I've NEVER seen a unicyclist riding the streets of... anywhere. He looked like he belonged in the circus, and it turned out that was exactly where he was from. He had traveled around the world his entire life performing with his family: The Sardine Family Circus. Alex began telling us all about the best countries in Europe. His pick: Spain, adding that it, "Beats the fuck outta the preppie little countries." All in the thick Cockney accent. I almost died laughing at the stares coming from cars passing by. Imagine seeing two backpackers accompanied by a unicyclist who was riding down the side walk of your town! I just missed the picture, to my everlasting shame. I was too busy laughing!

He was obviously quite interesting, intelligent, full of life, and found what were were doing quite fascinating, so when he invited us to their place for a beer, we quickly accepted. This was too good to miss!

Alex's family was staying in older- model RVs parked at the home of his sister's husband, and commuted from Springfield to Boston 5- days a week performing their street circus & making a living as they apparently had done for decades. His mom and dad warmly invited us in and insisted we join them for some beef stew, easily overwhelming our meager resistance. As we ate, Alex was off to the store for Natural Light, and pretty soon we were swapping stories. Alex was eager to hear some of ours, saying he was usually the one doing the entertaining, so we went to our old stand- by: The Tennessee Drug Search. This was the beginning of one of the most profound experiences for either of us as we quickly realized that what WE had done was only "amazing" in a relative sense. After our quick blurb, he then told us his "cop" story.

They had been pulled over by the police in Spain at some point, and they had found hash on the bus. As the young cop was proudly exclaiming, "look what we found!", his brother, who along with Alex is a juggler, snatched it from his hand and played keep away. He then flipped it over his head to Alex who promptly heaved it into a field. No evidence now, eh? As the befuddled, inexperienced police officers demanded to know where the rest of it was, Alex proceeded to quickly strip naked on the side of the road then declared, "See! I ain't got nothin'!" He finished by telling us that when "backup" arrived, in the form of two older policemen, they simply laughed both at the scene before them, and at the ineptitude of their cohorts. Still laughing, they instructed the Sardines to get dressed and be on their way, assuring them not to worry about the other two officers; that they'd "have a talk with them."

Well, we had... sat... on the side ... of I-40? Yeah...

We immediately felt like amateur hour had begun, and we were the featured attraction. And it got worse. He then asked us "what we do." Were we hunting? Trapping? What did we do to earn money? Now the audience at amateur hour was obviously not impressed! When the novelty of traveling was taken away, and was the common point of reference, what we had "accomplished" was pathetic! And it got worse!

Alex began sharing how he was a pilot who had flown across country, built his own motorcycles from junkers, and had crafted a long bow out of discarded items such as a broken guitar. I was wondering about all of these stories until he showed us the bikes and the longbow, then began delving into his Africa Plan. He wants to wait a few more years until he knows his family is well off, then secure the funding, manpower and equipment to actually start a village somewhere in Africa, beginning with the sanitation system. Apparently, he has secured old Soviet trucks that were auctioned off at the end of the Cold War and are waiting for him in Germany. None of this seemed out of the ordinary to them, and was reacted to by the other members of his family, and his girlfriend, Amber, as typical Friday night conversation.

It became apparent after a couple hours that they were ready to bed down for the night, but before we left, he offered to take us to Boston before we went west and teach us the finer points of street theater, suggesting we dress up as opposing cowboys, to make "probably $100/ day." Why the hell not?

As we left, we both had the feeling that we had just had our penis size mocked at a brothel! Extreme reality check and a grand dose of perspective at the same time. All from a 24- year old unicyclist who had never spent a day in "school." Alex was a study in "doing", rather than talking about, or "preparing to do." When I again lamented at how idiotic I suddenly felt, Chris astutely pointed out that this kid hadn't wasted 20- years in school. He had spent all of his 24- years just LIVING, and as a result had skills that had made him self- sufficient, and beholden to no one. I admire that!

As we walked toward Angus's dumbfounded, we decided we'd take Gus up on his "30- pack" suggestion, and spent the early hours of Saturday chatting, drinking, and theorizing. Gus didn't disappoint. He is a professional DJ who does parties, weddings, etc., and one of the smartest people you'd ever hope to meet. We talked about everything from music, to politics, to race and as the night went on I was struck by how raw & honest it all seemed. Eventually beer took over and it was time for bed, but this intense few hours was exactly what I needed. Coming to Mass. was obviously a wise decision, and I was eager to see what the rest of the weekend held!