I had many an opportunity to view the idiosyncratic religious expressions of various cities over the course of my trip; but the most interesting religious artifact by far, was observed in El Paso, Tx.... a typical, yellow diamond shaped street sign with the word "Church" printed in black letters, apparently announcing to drivers' the stated purpose of an architecturally prominent building across the street from it. I s'pose we are in "G-d's Country" now, but seriously? The steeple and stained glass weren't enough?
If I remember correctly, once I made it out of El Paso proper, it was a lot of nothing. Acres and acres of dead grass, hard earth and periodic sightings of freight trains. However, once the sun started to set, the vast flatness of the earth before me only enhanced the seemingly endless array of pink and purple light refracting off of and through clouds and unseen particles in the sky. Pretty majestic, to be honest, once I forgot about the uninterrupted wasteland that surrounded me.
'Twas over 11 hours to get from El Paso to Dallas and I made a total of probably 5 stops, mainly at Starbucks for periodic caffeine/sugar surges to keep me functional. One such stop was in the "blink and you'll miss it" town of Odessa. A far cry from it's namesake, it can only be described as strange and unfamiliar, at least to my urban sensibilities. I marveled at the rolling madness that unfolded around me inside the Starbucks. 'If only Howard Schultz could see this now,' I thought. Empty milk jugs and boxes littered the immediate area under the espresso machines and near the base of back counters, coffee making utensils strewn about the bar which needed a good wipe down. There were 4 or 5 baristas in the work area, and yet only one seemed to concern herself with actually making some of the 5 drinks ahead of my own. The others stood around, occasionally looking as if they might be tidying though the waste bin overflowed with paper-towels and other rubbish, and everyone talked, almost as if we were all in someone's kitchen rather than a coffee shop. They spoke in turn, and over one another about the high school football team, someone's estranged grandma, and their diets. I'm not sure if it's appropriate or not at this point to mention that they were all, clearly, well fed. Feeling the curious anthropologist, observing a newly discovered species, wishing I had the nerve to pull out my camera and start recording. I felt, at once morbidly fascinated, and yet fearful of making any sudden movements lest they eat me. I know it sounds like I'm being cheeky, but I'm serious too; it was like stepping into the Twilight Zone. I quickly made my retreat once I'd finally been handed my fix.
That was perhaps the last notable experience on my journey. Every time I felt close to Dallas, I'd pass a mile marker that told me otherwise, and by the time I actually arrived at my destination, I was slightly grumpy and a little stir crazy, but I was there, and that's really all that mattered. Needless to say, when people try and convince you that the trip across Texas is a long-ass-haul...believe them.
I've learned, over the course of my adventure, that Northeastern Californians give the Arizonans some heavy competition for religious zealotry; that mariachi music is much less enjoyable than I'd remembered; that I underestimate my ability to sleep in ridiculous positions and that there really is, on occassion, such a thing as, "too much 80's music." I reserve the right to modify these opinions at some point in the future, however, I think that one thing will never change: just like camping in a proper tent and sleeping bag, I was not blessed with the constitution for road-trips. Next time? I ship my belongings and fly in a plane.
The end. Thank G-d.
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