"Want a bottle of water?"
"I need something way stronger than that..."
--a conversation between my father and a coworker

Road Trip Entry #2: Boston

You cling to the seat in front of you as the worst flight you've ever been on lands. Now that the menace journey that's comparable to the Texas Giant is over, you overhear natives speaking about "the T". The wind blows your hair askew and cold rain stings your retinas. It's no Texas thunderstorm, so you're set, but the rest of the town isn't. Rain water floods the highway so the airport shuttle takes twice as long to find you a rental car. You drive around aimlessly for an hour, trying to find your hotel. Nothing is on TV. The wi-fi doesn't work. You go to sleep.
The next morning, the alarm clock sounds. You get up. The GPS becomes your best friend as you scramble back into your car. Major intersections and roads are closed and you're already late to your meeting. Your possible future is minutes away, but your so-called best friend won't give you correct directions to the college campus. The rain lightens as you pull up to the Undergrad Admissions Reception Center. Up and down both sides of the street are quaint brownstone-style dormitories.
It's then that that classic feeling all your older college friends speak about happens. You begin to remember all those times you "wanted to get away" but couldn't afford Southwest. Closing your eyes, you were able to escape any overwhelming stress or emotional trauma. Autumn would fill your mind; trees had leaves in the summer but didn't in the winter. There were seasons. But most of all, you would see a fresh slate. Reminiscing, you close your eyes, still standing like an idiot on the slippery marble stairs. You remember where you are and your eyes snap open. When you open your eyes, that image that has brought you so much peace is still there. It's tangible; it's real.
The college information session draws to a close and you've fallen even further in love than you were when you were standing numbly on the front steps. Your tour guides show you the rest of the campus. The group you're with complains about the cold and the rain and how they can't seem to make their umbrellas stay in their original formations. Unlike them, you're satisfied; you're in love. You haven't met the love of your life, no, but you have looked into your future. You know this is where you're meant to be.
This is Boston Unversity.

H

Road Trip Entry #1: Tennessee, Arkansas

You speed down the backroads faster than you ever would on the highway. It's a two lane road. A rusty road sign stands lazily to the right, telling you to take the upcoming curve at least 30 mph slower than you're driving. As always, the left lane is empty as it has been for about an hour, so you swerve over and drive down the middle. You rev the engine and smile as the 8-cylinder Ford pickup hums beneath your foot. There's no point in carrying a license around; no one is out to get you. Static from the poor radio reception fills the cab. Feeling a little like Fonzie, you smack the dashboard and, depending on the day, the radio either fixes itself or turns all the way off. The next curve nears and you start back towards the center of the lanes until you hear the rumbling of a '67 Chevy. You pass the driver, an adorable, young, blond kid in a plaid shirt, and exchange an embarrassed smirk. The accelerator scrapes the floor; the speed increases.

Horses gallop across fields whose fences couldn't stop them. The wild beasts, muscles tensing and pulsing, run in circles just to feel the breeze. Cows chew cud. Cell phones don't get reception. Internet is available only by a modem. But it's beautiful here. When it rains, the grass is so green that Ireland is put to shame. You might think it's impossible, but, at night, it's pitch black and, yet, so bright. The moon and the stars glisten in the pure, smog-free sky. Prudent, unabridged, natural beauty.

This is the country.

H