Interstate Love Song

This weekend I loaded up a rental car and headed to Milan.

Milan, Tennessee, that is. It's pronounced all country-like (My-Laaaaaan), not all foreign-ish like the city across the pond (Meeeeee-lan). What on earth is in Milan, you ask? CHARLIE! And fried chicken, but that's another story for another day.

As Lily and I rocked the Mid-South in my pimpin' Malibu Maxx, I realized I might live in perhaps the ugliest part of the country. Seriously, exciting scenery equaled a change from boring trees to less than boring trees. But fret not because as it turns out driving for hours along the Eisenhower Interstate System allows one plenty of time to compile a fetching entry for a blog. (I'm not saying that this one is it, but saying that at least the time was there to compile one)

So besides the trees here's what else I happened to notice while cruising along:

1.Traveling gives Lily gas. Hot, stinky, vile gas. She slept for nearly all seven and half hours of the trip, which apparently did nothing to slow down her digestive system. Every now and then she would sit up, look around and then cut the cheese. Satisfied with herself she would then return to her nap. It was like traveling with a truck driver. Bad Lily.

2. Since I was traveling with a dog, I had to take "advantage" of rest stops so we could both tinkle without separate stops. Now everyone knows that some rest stops are better than others, but something that is found in both of The Fancy Just-Across-the-State-Line Rest Stops and The Rickety We-Put-This-One-Here-Because-You-Haven't-Seen-A-Building-In-400-Miles Rest Stops is The Super Flush. Where are the rest stop toilets flushing to that they have to flush so violently? One toilet at a rest stop in Arkansas bid the contents of my bladder such a fond farewell that the commode nearly shook the foundation.

3. Why is it that I become bored with the mixed CDs that I burned specifically for the road trip after about twenty minutes? Some selections left me scratching my head, was I smoking The Crack when I put this playlist together? Did I really think that Debbie Gibson would see me through Arkansas? And this unfortunate phenomenon leads directly to number 4…

4. Adult Contemporay/Easy Listening/Listen While You Work radio stations have the same frequency across the country. Inevitably anytime I ejected above mentioned Crappy Music, the radio was blasting all of yesterday's favorites from the 80s, 90s as well as all of today's hits. Indeed we should all take these broken wings and learn to fly again, little Miss Can't Be Wrong.

5. Another note about the radio, without a shadow of a doubt The Song that you have been dying to hear, the one that will MAKE your road trip – perhaps when you hear it you exclaim, Fuckin' A that's what I'm talking about! who knows – will begin the SECOND you get out of range of above mentioned stations. If you're lucky you'll get in one good chorus before it fades quietly into oblivion. If luck's not on your side, you'll get the dueling radio frequencies throughout The Song. It's then you're left with, "I'M FREEEEEEEEEEEE FAAAAAALL – shish crrrrruh shish – dribbling down mid-court the Turtle Bum high school kids seem to be in control – shish crrrrurrl shish – a good girl, crazy 'bout Elvis…" and so on until you give up and move on.

6. Audio books frustrate me. Either I get far too involved in them that I suddenly look up, and realize Wha? How did I end up in North Carolina? Or I'm far too concentrated on the task of driving that I end up completely lost. Wait a minute who is sleeping with the vicar? What the hell is vicar? Also I am the only one who is a little disheartened with the fact that a book can be read in about 3-5 hours? Why does it take me like three weeks, how fucking slow do I read?

7. I love to imagine what people's lives are like in the small towns that I drive past along the interstate. What do you think is the most exciting thing to do in Earle, Arkansas? Because frankly, it sounds like the most boring town in 'Merica. Like you just have to sigh and flatly (sans emotion) say "I'm from Earle, Arkansas ho hum." On the flip side there's Cumby, Texas. Which I like to think is pronounced like "come by" because I'm dirrrrty. And the neighboring towns of Friendship and Hope, Arkansas put a smile on my face. (Double Jeopardy fact: Hope, AR is the birthplace of Bill Clinton – I nearly stopped to snap a picture, which nearly makes me exactly like my father) And Hooked on Phonics clearly worked for the town folk who were in charge of naming Daingerfield, Texas – "Spell it like it sounds Phil, Daiiiiiin-ger-field, duh."

8. I'm also FAS.CINATED. by the taglines of cities. As if to answer the nagging question in the back of my head, Milan, TN proclaims itself to be "A Good Place to Live"** So color me confused when I discovered that Arkadelphia, AR is "A Great Place to Call Home!" Exclamation point to really drive it home. And to top it all off Paris, TX had the AUDACITY to announce to the world that is "The Best Small Town in Texas," and between you and me I think the research must have been shady at best. Then there's Texarkana, TX. Emblazoned across their water tower is the fact it is "Twice as Nice." But given the fact that the city name cleverly combines all three states that it borders – Texas, Arkansas, Louisiana – into one geographical ménage a trois, it seems like it would make more sense to go with "Thrice as Nice."

9. I wish that life had "SLOWER TRAFFIC KEEP RIGHT" signs.

10. There's no finer end to a long day's drive than being scooped up into your boyfriend's arms and planting a kiss that's been 6 weeks in the making right on his deliciously bearded face. Well, nothing except maybe a Sonic Sweetheart Blast.

**Or "Jesus is Lord Over Milan" depending on what sign you decided to believe.