The Road Part I

We left Tallahassee before the dawn. The only audible sounds were that of the truck's engine and our heartbeats. It is a strange feeling to be driving this road for the last time. Every other time we've taken this trip up north we've eventually come back. This has been home for six years. That's the longest I've ever lived in one place. It is hard to move forward while thinking of what we're leaving behind. Family, friends, bandmates, co-workers, jobs. Tallahassee. It's funny. We couldn;t wait to get out, but parting is still such sweet sorrow. We hadn't even left the city limits when we had our "mishap" with the cat. He was scared and had an accident in his box. The smell was unbearable. We had to pull over in a gas station parking lot, but gallons of water, "borrow" bathroom paper towels and sponge him off. I held him to the asphalt. Stephanie scrubbed. It was not the way we wanted to start this trip.

The coffee slowly worked its way through my veins as I bacame more and more comfortable with driving this tank of a truck. We took 319 all the way up to I75 making our usual stop at the Hardees for breakfast, of course. From here on out we were to take a new route, one that would allow us to bypass the tangled and tragic knot that is Atlanta's interstate system. It was a beautiful drive. The whole time I was ascending and descending Georgia hills, passing cotton fields and open plaines, lakes and rivers I was wishing I was driving my car and not this truck. That would have been an awesome and fun drive in anything other than this vehicle. As it was, I found myself flinching at every downhill curve.

We arrived in Anderson shortly after noon. We only had to stop for gas once, and the pump cut us off at $99.00 - and we didn;t even fill up. I sure am glad I won't have to pay for gas after this trip. It has been a year and a half since we were up in South Carolina, but it feels like it has been longer. These boys are the closest to brothers that I have.

It was nice to see the Brooks if only for a day, and the break from driving was more than welcome. I think Indy was glad to be out of the box as well. I stayed up playing rock band far later than I should have, and have the blister on my thumb to prove it. I never did beat Matt in a head to head challenge.

Here is our first leg playlist:

Frou Frou – Details
Whiskeytown – Faithless Street
The Postal Service – Give Up
Jason Collett – Idols of Exile
Feist – The Reminder

Driving Thoughts

I woke up early this morning for my last drive. I shouldn’t say last I guess, but last for awhile anyway. It may be A.D.D., but I get lost in thought so easily, especially when I drive. It’s probably not a good thing, but the times I am in my most creative state, my writer’s states, normally occur when I’m driving. I knew when I woke up at four this morning that this trip to Tampa would be my last for a long time. It may be years before I drive Interstate 75 again. The trip was oddly quiet. I listened to music of course, but I can’t really recall what it was I played. This is a strange feeling.

When I arrived in Tampa, I went to see Jake. (Insert shout out to Jakob) I hadn’t seen him since the wedding, though I think about him nearly every day. Although we didn’t really have much time to talk, it was good to see him. It refreshed my soul a bit. Those few people whom I truly consider my friends, like Jake, need nothing more from me than who I am. They are genuine, and unique, and I couldn’t really do without them. What is so important to me about these friends of mine is that no matter how long it has been since we’ve spoken or seen each other, we pick right back up where we were without the awkward getting to know you all over again period. Jake and I grabbed a coffee and talked New York (he seems to be my spiritual advisor on most things I’ve yet to experience, but are looming in the near future – has since high school). We discussed the city, her strengths, her weaknesses. I think I am ready to take the leap. Jake also told me that he has finished the first draft of a book on his train hopping trip he took a couple of summers ago. I have to say, I’m filled with a mixture of pride and jealousy. One of these days I will finish something I start. Maybe.

With caffeine flowing through my veins, I headed back to my parent’s house where my Mom and I planned their trip to NYC. Only a short time later, Stephanie’s parents called to say that they were right around the corner. We ran out the door to meet them down the road, and I forgot to say goodbye to my car. This may sound silly, and may sound redundant to those of you who have already heard the story twelve times, but I’m kind of sad to be leaving it behind. I know it’s just a car, but it’s kind of the last piece of me connecting myself to Florida and this pre-New York life that I had to give up. My Mom saw the look I gave it as I ran past, and she knew. She told me that through every move there was always this period of excitement, of this dream of a new and enticing place, but every time it came to that last week the days just seemed to tear at your heart minute by minute. That’s how it has been for me this last week. Saying goodbye all over again.

Tonight we played a rousing Rock Band concert. I thought you might enjoy some of the pictures.