Goin' To Town

I love to drive.

When I first got this car I would put the top down, put on my cool green Kate Spade sunglasses, crank up the stereo and just dri-i-i-i-i-i-ve for the sheer pleasure of it. It was so much fun that I felt guilty, as if I must be doing something illegal and should be getting a ticket for it.

Ev and I love car trips. We love to get out on the road and just explore shit. We'll drive down roads just to see where they go, engaged in great conversations. It's our quality couple time. We once went on a little drive in Arizona, intending to tool around the desert of southeastern Arizona, and we ended up eating dinner in Puerto Penasco, Mexico and then having to drive like hell to get back to the border before they locked it down at 10:00pm so we wouldn't have to call the kids and tell them we accidentally got stuck in Mexico.

I love St. Louis

There are about a zillion things to do in St. Louis. I love to shop at the Miniature Museum. The St. Louis Zoo is free. The food at the Schafley Brew Pub is most excellent, and you can pick up a couple of cases of Schafley APA while you're there. The Mississippi River crested up to the base of the Arch last week, which is something that would be very cool to see.

I love my kid.

I haven't seen him since Christmas and I barely recognize him now that he's pretty much a grown man. He's got a new job, a new car and a new girlfriend since he was here in December, and he sounds like he's getting his act together.

I love the 4th of July.

I like fireworks, fried chicken, potato salad, long holiday weekends and sparklers. I even like some of the patriotic music (with the exception of "We'll Put a Boot Up Yer Ass, It's the American Way" and songs of that ilk). Ev and I went to Cape Girardeau the first summer we were here and watched the fireworks on the river ... it rained and it was too crowded, but it was still very pretty.

This week all of those elements will align perfectly. On Thursday I'm driving my convertible to the St. Louis airport early in the morning to drop off Katie for her summer trip to Arizona, and then I have the day to myself in St. Louis, because I'm picking up my son and his girlfriend from the airport in the evening. Then we'll all drive somewhere to watch the fireworks on the 4th. They have to go home again on Sunday, so Ev and I will drive them back to St. Louis and then we'll have the drive home to do our thang ... cruisin' ... talking ... enjoying the scenery.

You'd think the juxtaposition of all the things I love would make me ecstatically happy. And it would, if I hadn't tallied up the two round-trips to St. Louis at 26mpg, at $4.05 a gallon, which equals roughly $200, which is the price of the goddamn airline tickets each of the kids bought to fly 3000 miles round trip between Phoenix and St. Louis. We'd be better off flying to the fucking airport.

I hate George W. Bush. I'd like to see him tarred and feathered, but he is so not worth the price of tar.

A Vast, Yawning, Cavernous Weekend...And Some Responsibility

Today is the day that there is officially less than a month until Tax Day. What that ought to mean is that I'll go to Wal-Mart and buy TurboTax, figure out my taxes, and mail the government a big fat check.

What it will actually mean is that now I'll begin watching the calender with dread, knowing that I should be doing those things. Eventually, when my anxiety reaches critical mass, I'll do it. And it'll be so easy and quick that I'll wonder why I dragged my feet and put myself through all that stress.

How can you understand your own psychology and still fall victim to it??

It's also the Friday that preceeds my every-other-weekend with Lori, so we're looking around for some fun things to do with it. Maybe a day trip to Nashville or Memphis? I think it's going to be too cold to go fishing.....

Maybe we can go to Rural King!

Maybe...and this is almost too cool to contemplate...we could go to Rural King in Nashville!

I actually don't have any idea what's in Nashville besides the Grand Ole Opry and the Country Music Hall of Fame. I used to drive through it a lot when Carol was living in North Carolina and I was in Illinois, but I was somewhat focused on the goal, so I didn't stop to investigate much except the bathrooms on the highway.

But people go to Nashville, and we're people...ergo, we should go to Nashville. Maybe it's full of cool regional Nashville-y stuff, like sparkly electric guitars and ostrich boots...not that I've ever seen an ostrich in boots.

And yes, if all the other kids jumped off a bridge I would jump, Mom.