Home again

I ate fried pork chops, mac and cheese and collard greens in Detroit but they did not compare with the last ones I had, and have missed since, in Louisiana which were smothered in a gravy I would have drank by the glass. I tried sleeping in the parking lot but it was pretty humid and the driver's seat of the 2013 Camry I'm driving is nowhere near as comfortable as the one in my Half-a-Million-Mile Hyundai was. That seat was the budget automotive equivalent of a La-Z-boy recliner, and that car was like my little motor home. So far, the Camry and I don't enjoy that same relationship. Most of the last decade has been about giving up attachments and identification with any sort of external identity. I imagine this is more of the same. 

Anyway, I decided to hit the road. There was a great big full moon that changed from red to orange to yellow to white as it rose higher in the sky and guided me out of the city. The  car radio played Detroit flavored gospel, Arabic music, and late night R&B slow jams (baby making music) until each station's signal faded out as I made my way to Toledo and on to the Ohio Turnpike. I stopped to pee in a rest area at midnight and saw two minivan loads of young Muslim men getting down to pray on the asphalt. When they'd finished, they were talking and giggling excitedly. I wonder where they were going. 

I drove on along the southern banks of Lake Erie through Sandusky and on to Cleveland listening to a show called Night Stream on the CBC. Whatever gets you through the night, the DJ said. How happy my ears get when they discover something other than generic American pop or right-wing Christian brainwashing on the radio when I'm driving. The signal faded out in Cleveland. After that, the Case Western college station was playing obscure 60's and 70's heavy psychedelic rock that kept me company through Erie, PA and into the vineyards of Western New York. 

I stopped on the Seneca Reservation at about 3 AM to get gas and buy some Bugler tobacco for offerings. The restaurant was closed so I continued on to Buffalo where I took a short nap in the parking lot of a strip mall and waited for a Tim Horton's to open. I got myself a breakfast sandwich, coffee and a donut there and felt somewhat disappointed with the place. The ubiquitous Canadian Tim Horton's have more appeal for some reason. 

The New York State Thruway is a nice drive along the Eerie Canal and the Mohawk River. I feel an affinity for this area because I played an Erie Canal worker in a third grade school play. A parent commented I looked like I was really working with the grub-axe I was swinging and that was because I had already been introduced to such work. Low bridge - everybody down, Low bridge - cuz we're coming to a town. And you always know your neighbor, you always know your pal, when your navigation' on the Erie canal. 

The radio became less interesting after that - NPR and pop country. The traffic increased, the day grew hot and the miles rolled on.  

I don't do as well as I used to going without sleep. I crashed at about 6 PM and stayed in bed until 7 this morning. I've got that scrambled and disoriented feeling now as I'm trying to integrate this most recent episode into my ongoing life.