Road Trip!

Some folks have commented to me recently concerning our excursion to Disney World, and each of them has invariably asked the same question: “Why didn’t you take a plane?” The easy answer would be to say I don’t like flying, but that’s not entirely true. I have no real problems with airplanes other than simple annoyances that are fairly easily dealt with or at least temporarily endurable for the short duration of the flight. One of these things would include the hilariously inept and ineffectual security measures put in place after September 11, 2001 that make our flights neither safer nor more enjoyable, but that do seem to have the curious effect of irritating every single passenger so far past the point of intolerance that they come back around the other side as docile cattle, willingly being herded through checkpoints of steadily increasing invasiveness. And, armed with their Ziploc bags and unshod feet, the passengers walk in single-file confidence as machines bleep and bloop and give the guards virtual reconstructions of their naked naughty parts while falsely believing that any of it does any good. It’s a theater of delusion in which I want no part. Then, of course, there are the more mundane aspects of air travel, things like: lost luggage and mishandled baggage, infuriating and inexplicable delays coated in the saccharine-laced rhetoric of smiling automatons and, of course, the flight itself. I’m sorry, but unless I’m on some intergalactic space voyage to a distant star and totally dependent upon the ship’s life support systems to shield me from the terrible vacuum of outer space, I don’t really want to breathe the same barely-scrubbed, recycled oxygen as a whole plane full of people who are farting and burping and coughing their way to Orlando. And don’t even get me started on the toilets…

But none of this has anything to do with why we didn’t fly to Disney World. Sure, I dislike flying in general, but I’ve no real gripe against airlines. I just think that flying should be reserved for occasions when you simply must arrive somewhere quickly and don’t have time to drive, or at least reserved for the mundanity of business travel. For vacations, though? Forget it. Part of the fun of traveling is the actual travel, which is a concept that is becoming more and more foreign to today’s impatient vacationeer. For most people today, it’s all about the destination rather than the journey, the manifestation of the Need-It-Now generation’s inability to appreciate anything outside the scope of their own experience. Today, vacations are planned online, with itineraries scheduled by computer and passed down to the traveller like the pre-packaged, processed experiences they deserve. No one wants to travel the roads anymore, or explore the countryside to find hidden gems of curiosity and wonder. No, all that matters is how quickly they can get from point A to point B, and how soon they can get started doing the activities the computer printed out for them.

All of this has led to the steady decline of one of the great American traditions: the roadside attraction. Most people regard driving any real distance to be more of a nuisance than anything else, seeing interstate highways as a way to get to their destinations, rather than making the drive be part of the vacation itself. Granted, the interstate highway system itself was one of the first nails in the road trip coffin, but they did far less damage to roadside attractions than the commonality of air travel today. When you’re driving along on an interstate, you still have the option of taking an exit to find a Mystery Spot or a World’s Largest Something-Or-Other, if the mood strikes you. Billboards still taunt and tease you with exaggerated promises of wondrous sights to behold “Just 20 miles south of Exit 237!” The claims of the advertisements generally don’t hold up to the reality of the often cheap and kitsch-filled attractions themselves, but the bait and switch nature of the propaganda is all part of the fun.

Roadside attractions used to go hand in hand with any vacation, back when people would drive rather than fly. The interstates came along and diverted much of the tourist trap business, but the towns were still there and so were the attractions, even if there weren’t quite so many as there were before. Eventually, as air travel became more popular and affordable, most of the smaller operations closed up shop altogether, and their particular contributions to the vacation memories of visitors were lost forever. This website, for example, has a list of just a few of Florida’s Lost Tourist Attractions. The tourist trap may not be completely dead, but its body is barely twitching.

Even some of the more famous attractions like Hobbiton, USA in California have hit on hard times, although the state of Hobbiton might have more to do with the original owner’s passing than anything else, especially with the recent resurgence in popularity of all things Tolkein. One would think that, thanks to the Lord of the Rings movies, the place would be enjoying a nice upturn in visitors, but most of the reports I can find suggest that Hobbiton has been closed and all but abandoned.

Other destinations are doing better though, like The House On The Rock in Wisconsin. Its prominent role in Neil Gaiman’s novel, American Gods, has certainly helped its reputation, although most attractions aren’t so lucky as to have a writer of Gaiman’s stature feature them in a story. In fact, the significance of Neil’s contribution to The House On The Rock’s tourist dollars is evidenced by an e-mail he received last week, inviting him to help plan an American Gods anniversary celebration at the venue. Rock City in Georgia hasn’t received quite the same level of attention from its mention in the same novel, but with a slogan as catchy as “See Rock City!” appearing in everything from Cormac McCarthy’s The Road to Homestar Runner’s Strong Bad, they hardly need it.

The original idea we had when planning our trip to Disney World was not to stick strictly to the interstate to funnel ourselves to the mouse house as quickly as possible, but circumstances forced us to do just that. We’d planned on stopping at various roadside attractions along the way, be they tourist traps, historical landmarks, or state museums. We didn’t care what we saw, as long as we saw something from which Trey could take away a happy memory. We did manage to visit the Florida Caverns State Park on our way back, but missed being able to stop at Battleship Memorial Park in Alabama. I wanted to take him aboard the USS Alabama to see the famous battleship in person and onto the USS Drum to experience the claustrophobia of a WWII-era submarine, which are things I remember doing as a little boy. Granted, he’ll get more out of the experience when he’s a little older, but I still enjoy giving him as many experiences as I can now, as often as I’m able. I prefer choosing attractions that have some sort of educational value, but finding spots that are just plain fun is fine by me. It beats taking him on vacation to sit at a relative’s house and keep himself busy by not touching all the No-No’s, at any rate.

This weekend, for instance, we’re taking a short road trip to Houston to visit relatives and take Trey to the Children’s Museum of Houston. Along the way, I’m planning to stop by the San Jacinto Monument so that Trey (and Brittany) can learn a bit about the most important battle ever waged in the continental United States), as well as pay a visit to an alternate battleship, the USS Texas. I’m not sure if we’ll manage to squeeze everything into one weekend, but it’s nice to have goals. Trey’s mood however, will ultimately determine just how much – or how little – we get to see and do.

There’s a lot to see out there along the highways and byways of America, but too few among you are bothering to stop and pay a visit. If you’re a habitual flyer, there’s little I can do other than point in your direction and jeer, as you’re likely to be exactly the sort of waterheaded, Wal-Mart shopping mushbrain that wouldn’t listen, no matter how loudly I screamed at you. The journey is the destination, or at least is should be. It used to be, at any rate. A vacation was just as much the time spent traveling to someplace as it was the place itself, and the world was a little bit more magical for everything that seemed to be in it.

Today, all of the little spots of mystery and wonder and, primarily, the specific kitsch of Americana are dying off at an alarming rate, leaving America’s roadsides as little more than barren wastelands punctuated by shopping malls and big box superstores. When the country starts preferring the same 24-hour shopping experience they get at home to, say, the thrilling experience of visiting the campy wonder of a barely-live action witch trial at the Salem Witch Dungeon, then we lose a bit more of the charm and wonder that comes from local curiosities.

As the great American landscape becomes nothing more than something to look down upon while whizzing over at 500 miles-per-hour from thirty-thousand feet, there is less and less of a need for local flavor, and less demand for tourist attractions. As such, we’ll continue to condense vacation experiences into singular destinations, eliminate variety and inconsistency, and make everything predictable, safe and mundane. And, while this may be holiday heaven to your average vacationeer today, it all seems rather hellish to me. In fact, as these roadside wonders disappear and their lights go out one by one, I’m ironically reminded of something a fictional character from a theme park ride once said in a movie. Perhaps, as unlikely as it sounds, the Pirates of the Caribbean had it right all along, or at least Captain Jack Sparrow did when he said, “The world’s still the same. There’s just less in it.” Yeah, less and less. Every day.

Want some books? 'Course ya do!

NOTE:  I know times are hard and yeah, I need to make a living too, but if you want to read any of my books but can't afford to buy them right now, hit me up.

I'll take care of it.

Humor | Nonfiction
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Have you ever lived through an experience that was so humiliating that you wanted to die, but when you tell it to all your friends, they can't stop laughing?

Have you ever made a decision that seemed like a good idea at the time, but you're still living with the hilarious consequences years later?

If so, then grab a snack, get comfortable, and prepare to have all of your own poor life choices seem just a little bit more bearable.

You're welcome.

Short Stories
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The nine stories of rage and sadness collected here range from the most intimate of human experiences to the wildest realms of magic and fantasy. The first story is a violent gut-punch to the soul, and the rest of them just hit harder from there.

Those who tough it out will find a book filled with as much hope as despair, a constant contradiction pulling you from one extreme to another.

Life might knock us down, over and over, and will the beat the ever-loving snot out of us from the time we're old enough to give it attitude until the day we finally let it win and stop getting up.

Always get back up.

Gaming | Nonfiction
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This isn't just a book. It's a portal to other worlds where there be magic and dragons and hilarious pirates. Okay, not really. But this book is about those portals, except they're called video games.

The Life Bytes series of books take a deep dive into one man's personal journey through childhood into kinda/sorta being a responsible, competent adult as told through the magical lens of whatever video games he was playing at the time.

Part One starts way back in 1975 and meanders down various digital pathways until, oh, around about 1993 or so.

If you're feeling nostalgic for the early days of gaming or if you just want to understand why the gamer in your life loves this hobby so much, take a seat in your favorite comfy chair and crack this bad boy open.

I'll try to not be boring.

Horror
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What you are about to read is not a story. There is no beginning, middle, or end.

What follows is nothing more than a series of journal entries involving shadow people, sleep paralysis, and crippling fear. It’s not pretty, it doesn’t follow story logic, and nothing works out well in the end.

You've been warned.