We’re still in Middletown. How about that? We’ve had set back after set back with the veggie system, we’ve been plagued by depressing weather, and on our way to see our guru we get stuck in mud. The photo above was taken after the tow truck showed up and pulled us out. In two weeks we need to be in Arkansas for the first of our festivals. It will happen, but how exactly is still very much up in the air. I’ve decided to call this summer Us vs. The World.
The universe may be trying to tell us something, but we’re not listening.
Blog
False Start the Billionth
Anyone who has ridden on the bus, heard about the bus, or even seen the bus, knows that reliability is not its strong point. Though to be fair, in this case it may be designer error. We’re having problems with the veggie system. After installing a new pump, we found that it couldn’t make enough pressure to push veggie through the filters. We installed a backup pump, and had a similar problem. We were looking in the wrong place, and have since narrowed the problem down to the filters. Something about the filters isn’t allowing veggie to flow freely through. We’re going to cannibalize the filters from Mike’s bus, and see if that can get us on the road.
Liftoff
The plan is we leave tomorrow morning. We’ve been working nonstop for a week, and we’re both exhausted. I’m nervous. I’m worried something will go wrong with the pump, I’m worried we won’t be able to get veggie, I’m worried the bus will experience more serious mechanical problems. I was this same way before we left the first time. It took me about a month to really chill out about it all, and just let it wash over me.
I drove the bus up to Middletown from Niantic, a forty-five minute or so drive, and it really made me feel good. There is something incredibly relaxing about driving the bus. I think it’s due to the governor on the engine, which keeps it from exceeding 65 mph. Knowing that it’s not possible to go faster than that, and letting cars continually pass me feels good. I know that’s I’m going as fast as I possibly can, and it doesn’t matter if it’s slower than everyone else.
I hope I can get into the swing of things faster this time around.
Festivals
We’ve secured our spots volunteering at Electric Forest, which is July fourth weekend. Looks like it will be cool. Our route will take us in a complete circle, down the East Coast, into the heartland, then up towards the Great Lakes and finally back East. Now to just get the house, and the bus, ready.
Summer Trips
I guess I spoke too soon. We got word last night that our first stop is going to be cancelled due to floods. Apparently the county it’s in has been declared a disaster zone, so that’s a bummer. It’s certainly the festival we were looking forward to most, but it might turn out to be ok that it was cancelled. We knew it was either going to be awesome or horrible, and it seems like it may have turned out to be closer to the latter. Putting aside the weather in the midwest, it turns out only 21 people had bought tickets by the time the show had been cancelled. I guess most people were getting in for free as artists or performers (like us). We’re rerouting our summer plans now. I need to figure out what to call this summer.
Chris at 7:21pm is riding across the country this summer, and blogging it. I’m going to do my best to follow his progress over the summer, and highly recommend tuning in.
T-minus Seven Days
Ideally looking to leave a week from today. Not sure whether that will happen, but that’s the goal. Lots to do before we leave – both to the house and to the bus. In fact, we’re nearly done painting the house, but there is still much to do to it.
I’ve been having a weird sense of time recently. The days seem long, but they also seem to blow by quickly. I’m not sure how that works, but I’ve been feeling it much more often lately. I wonder if that’s just my new sense of time, or if it’s my current lifestyle. It’s a very similar feeling to what I had on the bus. I can remember lots of things about a day, but when I look back on my previous days, they seem so fleeting. I guess it’s just a weird perspective. I’m hoping to update a little bit from the road, but it likely won’t be more than some short videos or photos. Moreover, I’m hoping to post a bit about the work we’re going to be doing to the bus before, and during the early stages of, this summer’s trip.
The Cause of Cancer
One of these things is just like the others
Have you seen that video? Where she whips her hair back and forth? Or that video where we learn the days of the week? Or…this? Yikes.
Here’s what I don’t get: Rebecca Black, age 13 and Eden Wood, age 6, sing songs not written by them to music not arranged by them, appear in videos not directed or produced by them, and motivations are questioned. Willow Smith, age 10, does the same thing, gets reviewed by legitimate music critics, and even receives radio play. I’m not confused about why one song/video/whatever is more popular than the others, but I am confused about why they’re seen as different. Complaints and accusations of abuse and exploitation leveled against both Ms. Black and Ms. Wood are just as valid against Willow Smith. Being the daughter of a musician does not give her a free pass.
While it’s true that we police social deviance among adults, it’s also true that children are held to completely different standards, and plenty of actions that are socially acceptable among adults are not among children.
A Completely Serious Post
In which I redefine a word that has a universally accepted definition to create a unified subculture of people who previously lacked a label in order to make future profits by marketing to an invented demographic. Ready? GO!
Freethinker
1. A person who spends their free time thinking. A person who thinks for leisure.
2. A person who does not require compensation for their thought.
3. Unemployed.
Did I ever tell you about the time I sold Heroin?
Jack and Mike called me one night, and asked if I was interested in coming to the diner with them. I don’t remember what I had been doing that day, but I was tired and planning on heading to bed early. Maybe I had just eaten and was full. Whatever the excuse, I begged off and went to bed. Some time later, before I had fallen asleep, I got a call from Jack, who was in the diner’s bathroom. He explained that the people at the booth next to them had begun to suspect that Jack was a heroin addict, and he’d started going along with it and playing it up. He said he was going to return from the bathroom with his sleeve unbuttoned and wrinkled, having just been rolled up. He wanted me to be the finishing touch to the act, by coming down and posing as his dealer.
This was enough to get me out of bed, and forgo any sleep that I might have needed. I made sure to park in sight of their table, and went inside. I went to their table, and after the type of brief and awkward conversation that is unique to drug deals, we went out to my truck, leaving Mike in the booth. In the truck we talked normally, but continued to pantomime doing something behind the dashboard. Jack made sure to flash a little cash. After a minute or so, Jack left to go back to his food, and I drove back home to go to bed.
I really love that we made someone’s night a little surreal.