Readers, herein lies Part II of August 28th, 2009 Oxford, Ohio to St. Louis, Missouri
States crossed: Illinois, Indiana, Missouri
We woke up in an upperclassman house on the campus of Miami of Ohio, just outside Cincinnati.* As previously mentioned, Brenny, my sweet little baby bro, woke up on the porch. Piece of work he is.
We had a nice hungover, salty, and yummola breakfast at a diner on campus. Miami of Ohio is exactly what you'd picture a regular college to be like - you NYU/Columbia/BU/Georgetown/community college alums, you. It's roll-y poll-y and surrounded by nothing (slash, hicks) and has a bunch of really specific in-jokes.
Once Bren and I said good bye to Awesome Jillian, we drove through sunny, sunny fields, all the way to Indiana. This was when I truly felt like I was driving cross country. I was in a state that was obscure enough not to have a sitcom based in it! (Sorry, Parks and Recreation, you're too recent.)
I have to say that one thing, among many, that I'm proud of from this trip was the fact that we got out of the car in almost every state - the one exception being West Virginia, if you discount Maryland being the state we started in. We got out immediately after we crossed into corn-fed Indiana. To say that the gas station there was one of three attractions in Indiana would not be an exaggeration, considering the most urban spots we witnessed were this:
and this:
THUG LYFE.
We crossed into Illinois as the rain was falling and Brendan's own spirits were getting cloudier and cloudier. (This was my attempt at the Illinois state sign.)
... So I took over the wheel! Sitting on a phone book and box of CDs, since the seat broke.
Illinois was very non-particular. Unlike Indiana, it wasn't just acres and acres of corn, and local CVS's did not dictate the cosmopolitan centers of life. Illinois, on the other hand, pretty much looked like the New Jersey Turnpike for miles and miles, until right outside St. Louis, where it started to look like rural America, and JESUS, all over again. Hallelujah.
I drove all the way into St. Louis, and therefore, Missouri! Our seventh out of twelfth state.
St. Louis is in fact a very kind city. I could never imagine living there, because it seems to hold true to its nickname, "Gateway to the West." The highway seems to almost intersect downtown, and the whole layout just makes St. Louis seem like you're supposed to leave tomorrow. There are really only ten blocks of action. People from St. Louis, prove me wrong here!
Or I'll have your bear eat you.
What I can say is that the Cards game made me warm to St. Louis, as it was filled with good-natured, beer-loving families and engaged couples that had SWARMED there - just for a game against an indubitably young and mediocre team (The Nats? Really, St. Louis? You care that much?). It was pretty ironic for me and Bren since the Nationals were in town, and pretty fortuitous, because they actually played the best game I've ever seen them play. However, it didn't do anything for the very obvious fact that Brendan and I were the only ones dressed in Nats gear...
... or that Pujols hit an incredible, game-winning homer in the bottom of the ninth.
Anyway, after the game, Brendan and I trekked (on foot, this time) once more through the delightful Midwestern Mecca of St. Louis, and to bed, to bed... to wake up, step through the Gateway, and start on our way to the West.
*Would you know how to spell "Cincinnati" if not for seeing it in text? I bet you a zillion dollars no.
No comments:
Post a Comment