Lara and I drove up to Pennsyltucky for Joannie’s annual pickin’ party. The trip up was almost as much fun as the destination. Along the way, we saw …
— A truck in East Tennessee with a “Bland Ministries” logo on the site. Nuff said.
— A one-legged man hopping around beside broken-down bus
— A dreaded Rastafarian and his woman fixing a car on the side of the road while Hank Hill was pulling his pickup truck over to lend a hand.
— A plane crash in Maryland (well, we didn’t actually see it crash; a Cessna-type plane apparently crashed on takeoff, and we drove by shortly after it happend).
— A sign at the beginning of a Pennsylvania construction site that read: “Slow down. My Daddy Works here.” The “s” in works was a Z, and the sign was done in a child’s handwriting. (On the way back, the sign on the southbound side of the interstate said, “Slow Down, My Mommy Works Here.” Those Pennsyltuckians sure ain’t sexist.
— A semi in Tennessee with “Student Truck Driver” plastered all over the side of it. Needless to say, we gave that one plety of room.
— On ramps with long stripes in Virginia (this is a Lara note; she was pretty upset that the dotted lines on on ramps didn’t get closer together, signalling the lane was about to end. Hey, we all have our peeves.)
— The Great Wall of Bristol. In the five years or so that I’ve been going up I-81, the fine city of Bristol has been hard at work building a massive wall along the interstate. I assume it’s to reduce noise. I hope it’s effective. It’s gummed up traffic for a long time.
— Our soundtrack during the drive:
10,000 Maniacs, In My Tribe
The Be Good Tanyas, Blue Horse
Dave Alvin, Public Domain
Whiskeytown, Faithless Street
Son Volt, Trace