So far, the trip has helped me reflect — on America, our society and the people in it, and the vastness of the West, foreshadowing impossibly countless possibilities. The road has reminded me of the SCALE of it all – isn’t it what philosophers and authors and artists and, yes, even politicians have been kvetching about for 10’s of thousands of years? What should we do? What does it mean? How do I fit?
What stories, leading me here?
What light, am I chasing after now?
Every mountain I climb,
No matter how out of my mind I get,
Wearin’ baby boomer clothes,
In the heart of the experiment known as
the Western World
— Jeff Crosby
And for so much of my trip so far, it’s been a long lonely highway, where it’s hard to tell there is anything but empty, massive and straight. It’s hard to think creatively in sameness.
Hey wait, there may be something to that…..
Mark Twain described travel as “the best education there is.” But he did so while travelling Europe and the Holy Land, not the solitary, loneliest road.
Now that I’m hill-daling and meeting great folks, I’m once again getting edumicated. Like Sam said, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.”
So today, east of Lubbock I encountered consistent hills and dales for the first time in days. Long curves and interesting scenery slowed McCovey down AND invigorated thought. In that small portion of the brain still available for thinking as we gaze the length and breadth of the vista for anything that might jump right in front of us. (So far – one deer back in St. George and one bouncing tin can off the back of a contractor’s truck somewhere hence, both easily avoided.) Hillsdale was my first high school and isn’t there a Michigan college of that name (where most students may desperately NEED a cross-country trip, but again, I digress.) I mean is it possessive? Hill’s dale? A broad valley right beside a commanding hill? Seems right. Or is it when there’s a lot of them, like today, hill/dale/hill/dale. Either way, I LIKE ‘em.
So I am off early, diggin’ the early light and I see this sign:
Is there a line? Really?
Jeff, is there really a line? Because, joyfully, I have not noticed one! I mean, yes the man has character and skills and he can flat write, but I haven’t noticed a line not to cross anywhere….
I had a wonderful experience recently I have told many about because it was so meaningful. I had mentioned to Walt Wilkins that I thought he would really like Jeff’s writing, and he said he did. The next day, Walt was walking past my office when Jeff’s Maybe Denver rolled around. Both men had lived in Nashville for a while and liked the town, but not the ethic of the music biz there. Austin seemed much more suitable, where writers and performers could actually be the same artist! The first lines of Maybe Denver are:
Tennessee I love ya,
But I think we should just be friends….
– Jeff Crosby
And from down the hall, I hear, “Shit! Dammit, what a GREAT first line! Why didn’t EYE write that?!?!?!” Jeff, that is one helluva compliment — just one of the many you have earned.
So, would you believe that IN Crosby County, Texas, there is a town, Crosbyton, replete with a few hills and dales. They HAVE a line, a motto, a prayer for more economic development if you will. I kid you not, it is: “Where the 19th Century Meets the 21st Century.”
Jeff! Need a little help here! Cross the line, baby, and help ‘em out. What does that motto mean? Additional (very quick) research says “Crosbyton was founded in the early 1900s (not the 19th century) by the C. B. Livestock Company, growing from a ranchland town to a county seat in 1910, with infrastructure like a railroad and hospital added in the early 20th century.”
They have indeed crossed a line.
Almost ran out of gas around Guthrie and had to Waze-spelunk to a hidden gas station called “6666 Supply.” Could it be? The 4 Sixes ranch of Yellowstone, Taylor Sheridan and real cowboy excellence for those that know about that. (That would be my daughter Emma, not me until the TV show,) And YES, yes it was. AND Guthrie was a beautiful little town with not a blade of grass out of place. AND they saved my Sunday bacon. Gas bacon. Bacon-enablement.
I pulled into Mineral Wells to the sight of a beautiful hotel suggested by Walt and Tina themselves. 7 story brick hotel brought back from whatever brink to shiny, spotless, gorgeous old building. And my room, for $150-so bucks, was gargantuan, with a kitchen, living room, bedroom and huge bath. Craft brewery and sports in the HUGE lobby, I had a black lager as my baggage detritus was carried to my room. HEAVEN!
Well earned reward
The final straw of excellence before a long sleep came from my pasta dinner at the seemingly pedestrian PastaFina restaurant. Over simple menu that had some app-ies, and a sort of pick-your-dish pasta menu. You pick spaghetti, ziti, fettucini or tortellini and a preparation method. There are baked, traditional and other methods. I know, yaaaawwwwn get on with it, Ford.
What arrived was a brown-gravy marinara, spicy spaghetti Fra Diavola (pronounced
“Dea-VOH-lo” by the young, thorough waiter. And it was SPECTACULAR. Spicy, different, with sausage and chicken and I mean VERY spicy. A “4” of “5” on the don’t hurt me scale. Really terrific, and again with generous folk in every direction.
Not your average Italian food. More Texalian, but OH MY, was it great!
I walked back to the hotel, climbed into the soft bed and was left unconscious for a solid 9. Just nice little dale for the weary traveler.
One last note — Crazy Water was only too pleased to provide McCovey with this outstanding parking place, complete (or is that replete) with his own roped area. Step back paparazzi, he’s just doing his job one day at a time, taking each day hoping that the good Lord willin’, he’s doing his part every day. He’s just hoping to help his ball club. He’s just happy to be here. He KNOWS his cliches, you could look it up.
A Goods Life 