Wendy's Weblog

It is impossible to travel faster than the speed of light, and certainly not desirable, as one's hat keeps blowing off.
- Woody Allen

And so with Jill at the wheel, her boyfriend Jeff riding shotgun, and yours truly white-knuckling it in the backseat, we set out this past Memorial Day weekend with 97,000 other antsy travelers. Now, I don't want to imply that Jill drives like Mario Andretti, or that her lead foot sends cell phones hurtling at the windshield, or that she freakishly enjoys playing bumper cars with unsuspecting motorists, or that she screams and yells obscenities at any other vehicle not breaking the sound barrier at Mach speed. Let's just say, she's a bit...ummm, intolerant. Time is of the essence. Get the hell outta the way. This is a non-stop thrill rollercoaster, and you must be THIS tall to ride. Anyone who's heard Jill impatiently bellow out, "BEER ME!", knows exactly what I'm talking about; if an ice cold Coors Lite is NOT in her grubby mitts within 20 seconds, it's going to get downright ugly.

Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel from coast to coast without seeing anything.
- Charles Kuralt

Now I don't know about you, but I'm not the most well traveled person. And even though I've made the dreaded drive from Fresno to Redding about a kajillion times, I don't ever recall, on any of those occasions, seeing a
Flying J "fuel stop". Of course Jeff knows all about them, since he hauls cars up and down the highways and byways of California, feasting on junk food fare, and listening to bad A.M. talk radio. This was no big thing for him. I, on the other hand, was quite overwhelmed. Who knew that you could refuel your gas-guzzling SUV, wash the Airstream, take a shower, buy electronics, go Christmas shopping, play the Lottery, snag some cash, have a meal, get a haircut, and dump your nasty RV tank, all in ONE gigantic stop! Wow! Truly, amazing.

Jeff was brave enough to try the in house pizza establishment, where the fare was laid out like shellacked sushi underneath grimy plastic sneeze guards. I would have joined him, but was put off by the glistening, lime-green-like-Jell-O tray of broccoli that stared me in the face. Bleah. I opted for snacks and Mountain Dew, with all the caffeine you ever wanted in a beverage, and probably the reason for my unending barrage of questions; "Are we there yet? What's the temperature? What time is it? Can I pee? Is there A/C back here? Where's my water? How much longer? Hey, WHO farted?" After Jill dragged me away from the Flying J and it's cheesey tchotchkes, jam jars, wooden carvings, monogrammed zipper pulls, and American flags, we resumed our tedious trip on wheels.

Everything on a boat has a different name than it would have if it weren't on a boat. Either this is ancient seafaring tradition or it's how people who mess around with boats try to impress the rest of us who actually finished college. - P.J. O'Rourke (1989), Holidays in hell.

Five and a half never-ending hours later, we landed in Redding on the doorstep of our pals Suzie and Lauren, where they and their menagerie of critters welcomed us into their well-appointed dwelling. I barely had enough time to slam a couple cocktails, when Miss Katie May showed up and it was time to schlep on over to downtown Red Bluff and witness the much-hyped, eagerly anticipated, "Streets of Fire/Show and Shine". Here's the scoop; all the crazily painted, bad-ass, built-for-speed, faster-than-a-whole-herd-of-cranky-bats-out-of-Hell boats are lined up nosing the curbs, while obsessed pit crew members buff and caress them like they're some sort of goddesses. You'd think Paris Hilton was going to show up, plant her bony ass in the cockpit, whip out a Whopper, and use her Community Chest as some sort of shammy. Geez.

You Might Be a Redneck...If you think the last words to the Star Spangled Banner are "Gentlemen, start your engines!" - Jeff Foxworthy

As the sun began to set, and gallons of Coors and Bud Lite were still being consumed, the water monsters' engines were "lit" up, and they spit and growled and belched out one of the most hideous substances known to man; nitromethane. Yeesh. I've said it before and I’'ll say it again, it's disgusting, hideous, eye-watering, throat-burning, wretch-inducing crap. It must destroy any viable brain cells, which may explain the demeanor of fans and drivers alike. What else would compel seemingly normal people to bring along small children and even smaller animals to an event that’s guaranteed to ruin their hearing for life? I guess they just want to start the ear canal destruction early. "C'mon Jenny Lou, grab little Jethro's stroller and Odie's water bowl, we're a goin' downtown! Never mind them damn earplugs, we're late!"

You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on. - Dean Martin

Of course the most interesting, eye-popping spectacle at such a gathering, has got to be the bimbos. Well, and the locals. Not a shy breed, they can easily be identified by walking their pitt bulls around on a plastic rope, bumming Camels, and hoping their crank-high lasts the whole evening. The bimbos are the well-endowed, perfectly coiffed, lip-glossed, stiletto-heeled, flat-ironed, French-manicured, sleeveless-tight-knit-shirt-wearin', mini-skirted babes, torturing said locals, and slamming back Jaegemeister with Corona chasers. So while Jill, Katie and myself thoroughly enjoyed this mind-boggling event, sipping our beverages, drooling over cowboys, and stocking up on "Race Chic" apparel, I believe the following honorable mentions really made the whole experience completely worthwhile:

1) All the aforementioned bimbos freezing their tanned, baby-got-back butts off, as the wind whipped up in an Arctic frenzy around their naked legs, and the sky pelted down gigantic drops of rain. Sometimes, there really is a God.
2) The drunker-than-Courtney-Love-at-a-college-kegger chick at the pizza place, who should have given more thought to her footwear apparel. Trying to skitter about on 3-inch heels after consuming your body weight in alcohol is NEVER a good idea. Take it from an expert.
3) Forrest Gump was right; "Stupid is as stupid does". Pounding down mass quantities of malt liquor, combined with hurling idiotic insults at someone who could pummel you sideways, is almost as mind-numbingly dumb as donning 3-inch heels in the rain. Yup, Security was called.
4) If I hadn't witnessed it myself, I wouldn't have believed it. A line. A LONG line. And not just a long line, a long line to THE MENS ROOM!!! It was tantamount to seeing Bigfoot or the Abominable Snowman; it just doesn't exist. But there it was, in the hallway of the Palomino Club in downtown Red Bluff. No, I didn't have my camera, and yes, my butt is still sore from where I've been kicking it.

Laugh and the world laughs with you, snore and you sleep alone. - Anthony Burgess

I never did attend the actual boat races, but rather spent a glorious 2 days basking in the sun with Suzie, tormenting ourselves over crossword puzzles, sipping margos, and tracking the movements of several red-tailed hawks. In the evenings, the walls of Suzie and Lauren's casa would shudder and groan, and generally creak in agony over the ear-splitting, cranium-cracking snoring that racked the night. Everyone was guilty, and nobody was safe. The resident animals may require some serious therapy.

Our Memorial Day trip home was fairly uneventful, if you don't count the swearing, the whiplash, or the badly upholstered footstool sliding down the frenzied freeway. I dunno, it just was. Of course, no journey is worth a spit unless you learn something. Something of great importance, something mysterious, something the great minds on earth have pondered over for many moons. Did I learn the secrets of the universe? Did I explore the depths of time? Did I actually think Jill driving was a good idea? Well, no. What I DID learn, is that the well-promoted product, "Beano", can, in fact, work the complete and total OPPOSITE on some people. The first time someone utters the words, "when EXACTLY does the Beano kick in?", you know you're in for some serious trouble. And I thought the Nitro was bad.

I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them. - Mark Twain