A Sojourn: Part 1---To The West

I recently returned from a cross-country road trip to California with a friend of mine that encompassed roughly 6000 miles, 14 states, several hundred dollars in gas, and many an endless hour of music. I don't know what I was expecting to gain from the experience other than some interesting stories and a new perspective on this nation we live in; I received both.
Coming into the experience, there had always been a mystique about the west coast that I had in my mind. I don't know if I expected the people to look or be any different than those in my native Ohio (or any other state for that matter). Rather, I think it was simply a different attitude in the regions that was the mysterious part. I had always heard about the "West Coast Cool" kind of thinking, and that is certainly appealing. Seeing as how it was my first real experience into the West besides Seattle (Vegas doesn't count), it was finally time to put my curiosity to the test.
I had heard from friends who had taken the trip previously that it was not going to be easy. I didn't doubt their sincerity on the issue because I was certain it would be a draining experience. Steinbeck even wrote about the physical and mental demands that such an ordeal takes. With that said, I took everything one day (and one moment) at a time. The first part of our trip took us from Columbus, Ohio to El Reno, Oklahoma. This portion of the ride took nearly 15 hours to drive, most of which was at night. I can't say that I complained because there really isn't much to see along the way aside from the many road-side oddities that seem to be merely exaggerations to make a buck. Most of the ride consisted of bad jokes, an array of music that fluctuated with the mood in the car, several angry looks, and a steady diet of cheez-its.
Once our energy was spent, we stopped at a local motel to catch a few hours of sleep, and also because I didn't want to have my eyes clawed out from my weary co-pilot. I didn't really have high standards for any road-side motel and, in-fact, I was expecting to find a Norman Bates-esque attendant working the front desk. I didn't find such a person, mainly because I was asleep in the car. But for a business that claims they'll "leave the light on for ya", they apparently leave plenty more "for ya" too. We finally arrived into the temporary hovel and scrambled to get our things ready for a few hours rest. Anxiously awaiting the embrace of my body-length pillow, I pulled the bed sheets down and, to my horror, found a crusty white stain that would make a porn star blush. I can't say that I was surprised that something like this would occur, but my initial shock and disgust made me want to go demand a refund. I mean, how was I supposed to sleep in the Exxon-Valdez of manly "essence"? I eventually opted to simply pull the sheets back up and sleep on top over the covers. While this cured one problem, another arose not long after.
Apparently this particular chain of motels invests in air conditioners with jet engines that can never be turned off. Ever. I felt (and looked) like I should be sky-diving, with my fair blowing back and my face being smashed and pressed by the force. Angrily, I looked over at my friend who was, by that time, sound asleep. My frustration was palpable and I simply tried to block the air with whatever I could use. Finally, I could get a little rest.
The next morning, still de-frosting from the night before, we decided to grab some food at the local Denny's. I hadn't been to this fine establishment in quite some time, and was a little excited to reacquaint myself. I was torn between the famous "Grand Slam" breakfast and a new promotional skillet meal. We both chose the skillets, much to the frustration of our waitress, because it might have been an Oklahoma "thing" that could not be found anywhere else. During our wait, two men sat in the booth behind my friend. We both eavesdropped a little on their conversation which ranged from Biblical quotes, the new Batman movie, Sooner football, and the intricacies of "dick do" disease. Apparently it is a disease where "my stomach sticks out farther than my dick do." Alarmed and amused at the same time, our food finally arrived thoroughly burnt. We didn't say anything for fear that there would seek reprisal in our food similar to what we found under the covers the previous night. I wasn't sure if these initial experiences should be an ominous sign of things to come, but in a state that had a billboard stating "Come to our Buffalo Petting Zoo!" followed a short hundred yards later by another stating "Then come try our Buffalo Burgers!", I should not have been surprised. To be continued.....