July 4th: Storm Brewing at Brian’s

Brian and Joey immediately shuffled us off for dinner when we arrived back in Kalamazoo, and calm- exhaustion set in as I gorged myself at IHOP. I had been eating everything, at every opportunity, for the past week still freaked out by the weight loss I had experienced in June! The feeling of calm contentment I felt that Friday night was a nice, but short- lived reprieve. This was not going to be the relaxing weekend I had hoped.

By Saturday, I had begun to notice a pattern between 2008 and 2009. It was the 4th of July and as with last year, this was a transition point. I had gotten to the final tack on my mental- map. Last year it was Portland. This year, I had finished my tasks in Michigan. Also as with 2008, the road past July 4th was unclear, other than a general direction. I began to hope that “Phase II” would begin to show itself a bit more clearly, while at the same time I ineptly began the monumental task of trying to process and incorporate all the events of the past month. In retrospect, I needed time and perspective. I was about to get neither. It was obvious that Chris was at the end of his wits, and was not- so- subtly letting me know it. He told me once that he believes he has a way of "conveying impatience” without actually disclosing what it truly is. I will take this opportunity to counter that he may not the clever thespian he fancies himself! To be fair, on this weekend I doubt he cared what he was conveying.

As Saturday wore on, I was making little to no progress on anything. I had a conversation or two with Brian, but each time the chats became sidetracked in favor of discussions about movies, the Twilight Zone marathon, or anecdotal blather. I was desperately in need of something tangible; something other than Chris & Todd’s Story Time. However, Brian was enjoying his downtime, and I felt as though I had already traveled all the possible avenues with Chris. I sat on it, and let my frustrations simmer through Saturday, eventually falling asleep on the couch and forgetting to say Happy Birthday to Mother Amerika.

On top of all of this, by Sunday I felt the familiar feeling that something was still unfinished in Michigan. After the revelation around the campfire, then consequently meeting Mike the week before, I was NOT simply going to ignore it. Frustrations were building in both of us, and were in danger of exploding. I doubt anyone knew it was getting to that point, but then again, my thespian skills are lacking also! Chris was also getting more impatient by the hour. He was understandably ready to go, and was feeling a now obvious, borderline obsessive urge to get back to Denver. The idea of pulling myself away from Michigan to let Chris simply wander home further perturbed me because in Massachusetts I had bent over backwards NOT to pressure him to leave. “I had not tied him to my ankle!” I thought. “He has been free to go the whole fucking time!” At the same time, I was reluctant to say anything because I was sympathetic to his plight, having been there. On some level I was grateful for, and even impressed by, the fact he was sticking it out- which is not his nature. He could just do it no longer. It is fucking hard to be someone’s caboose for a month!

A much-needed dose of perspective finally came on Sunday from a yet- again unexpected source: Shalain. She was sensing my extreme annoyance, and when I told her that I had a dream where I punched Chris in the face and relieved him of some teeth; she implored me to “get the fuck away from him, NOW.” I had not told Chris about this, despite my recent experience with these sorts of dreams becoming reality, but this was a warning and she was right:

A) Chris needed to move on alone or
B) We needed to get the hell out of Michigan.

And now.

Despite this, both Chris and I continued tap-dancing toward the tipping point Monday. We had discussed a variety of options on how to get to, or thru, Chicago to at least Joliet, including rides to South Bend and the dreaded Greyhound. At that point, it made more sense to me simply to walk out of there along M-43 toward South Haven. Neither of these appealed to both of us, and Chris began bordering on confrontational when asking, almost on the hour, what I wanted to do. I finally decided to tell him, voice shaking out of anger (NOT a good sign), that he just needed to move on. I wasn’t sure what was happening, and had no clear vision of how to proceed. I felt it best to “Sit Down & Shut Up” and see what presented itself.

As was the case in Denton, this began the process of clearing the air. Neither of us was pissed off at each other, unbelievably. It was a matter of each being profoundly frustrated that we were off our own tracks simultaneously. Somewhere along the way, we had lost sight, again, of the fact that we were on SEPARATE paths that NEED to split periodically. I was not angry with Chris at all; just annoyed with the situation and perhaps subconsciously even my own shortsightedness.

Having freed up the mental energy, we began exploring Craigslist Rideshares. We had already had conversations with “Photo Guy” who was going from Toledo to Omaha on Friday, and he seemed promising despite the lack of communication. I also had begun to discuss riding from Des Moines all the way to Denver or even Colorado Springs with Eli, a friend from my Iowa radio days who lives in Marshalltown. He and his wife were taking a week- long vacation, and it seemed to me that with some patience we might be able to get all the way from anywhere along I-80 to Colorado by Saturday or Sunday. Nothing was concrete however, so in the end, we resolved to let things sit Monday night to see what developed. We would then decide Tuesday, one-way or another, what we were going to do. Chris would be on his way toward Denver on Tuesday, with or without me.

It is amazing what happens when you unload frustrations. Despite being up half the night writing, the events of Tuesday were quick and fluid. I had somehow concluded that it was indeed time to move on. As Rideshare after Rideshare continued to fall by the wayside, by early afternoon we began re-focusing on Joliet as a target. While Chris seemed to be happy with this, the idea of wandering around this industrial shithole at 11pm, looking for sleeping quarters, abhorred me. I would have much preferred a pig farm, so (not coincidentally) I decided to check on an idea I had come up with over the weekend: a Greyhound through Illinois to Davenport, and possibly close to the "Iowa 80: The World’s Largest Truck Stop!” This seemed like the perfect place to begin hitching west, and perhaps even a spot to make more trucker connections. A quick online check showed that not only did Greyhound get us close; it got us within three miles!

This was it, as was evidenced by the now telltale surge of energy and adrenaline. Chris loved the idea because it would also get me out of reach of anyone in Michigan, eliminating any possibility of returning! Why I did not check on this sooner I have no idea, but within an hour we had our tickets and were making preparations to finally get out of Michigan after 5+ weeks; on a 6:30 Greyhound to Walcott, Iowa. But, before we were freed from Michigan's grasp, there was just one more piece of drama to endure...

July 4th: Portland

O Say can you see....

Ugh.

I usually have shitty Fourth of July's. This one? Not so bad. Got up late, about 11, and went with Dave to pick up his new I- Mac, then returned to the Marina to do some temp- job hunting and supposedly begin the forthcoming mass- update on this. Have pictures to upload etc., but just as I was getting started on that Dave came outside to let me know that his 20 year- old daughter was experiencing 20 year- old's drama. Problems with the boyfriend. So, I needed to "give them some privacy". He offered me the use of his laptop and shuffled me off the Ann Banana's, a coffee shop in St. Johns so I could presumably spend the next however- long updating this. However since it's the 4th, they close early. May have to hike to Starbucks across the street when they do... we'll see.

Today's been rather weird. I thought I'd enjoy being in Portland more. I enjoy the city; love it, but BEING here is a bit of a letdown. Dave's been great, but he's expecting me to be more of a tourist I believe. I really have little interest in seeing anything that expects my money in return for 'experiencing' it.

Going to talk with Shalain later today about the future of the trip. The budget problems persist, and I need to figure out how to fix that. Obviously need to generate some money. Hard thing to do though when you'll be living out of a tent.

Also, not sure I'll be staying w/ Dave past tonight. He's a great guy, and I enjoy the discussions and he's a terrific tour guide, but I've been domesticated for a week now and am feeling the urge to get back on the road. No car... no couch... just out there. Plus, though I cover more ground, I spend WAY too much money in the company of others.

Dave's made plans to have a mini- cookout at his place tonight, so that should be fun. I'll try to update that later...

UPDATE 7/5: That was one hell of a cookout. Had a great time with Dave, his daughter Alanah, and his friends Bree, Greg, Aaron and Tara. LOTS of beer, cigarettes, hot dogs, slaw... a very 4th of July cookout with alot of fun conversation. So fun in fact that we stayed up until 4:30 in the morning playing You Tube clips, talking politics & sociology, and I even played my radio production stuff surrounding the war etc. They suggested I submit them to KBOO, a public station here. I'm a bit intrigued. Also, I believe Bree may be the first person I've met in a long time who's passions are as inflamed as mine. Poor girl!

Went to bed when the birds were waking. The best 4th of July I've had in a number of years!