Ashland, OH!
No point in mentioning these bats, I thought. Poor bastard will see them soon enough.
Loadout, surprisingly, went as planned. About three hours to empty the storage unit into the truck. It all fit. And I have way too much shit for where I'm going, so I will need to come up with a speedy and profitable way of divesting myself of said shit.
The driving went almost, but not quite, as planned, due to the fact that there was some disagreement between the laptop and the GPS unit as to which route I should take. The GPS wanted to send me along I-80, through Chicago, and the laptop said, "No, he wants to go south, and avoid Chicago, along I-76 and I-71," and the GPS replied, "Well, what the hell do you know, you non-specialized piece of Malaysian-built Dell sputum? I was born to navigate, bitch!"
Then I had to separate them. The laptop was right, of course, and it cost me about 40 miles to get back to where I needed to be, during which I flew along darkened Ohio country roads listening to sides one and two of Physical Graffiti and generally being a loon.
Tomorrow will see the first full day of driving. I predict crazy high mileage, loud music, and a cheeseburger.
It's been a long day. This morning, I was in my old hometown. I drove past my former house, which has had all of the things done to it that I could never manage to do because I was too drunk or depressed or both. I went by to see some innkeeper friends of mine, only to discover that one was away for the week, and the other had died of cancer in August, while I was on the road. I had heartrending conversations with my ex. I got mountain-rained on in Pennsylvania, the kind of fat, thick rain I remember from Virginia-Kentucky border country.
I'm in a motel again. On my way across the country, again. With my guitars, and the rest of my stuff, this time. And a whole New Thing awaiting me, in the West.
Crazy, baby.
Bedtime.
