Yup. 8 hours, approximately, from Pittsburgh to Pinehurst. Not counting the 20 minutes to Hoss’ house at 5:30 a.m. to start the trip. However, the 20 minute jaunt to Hoss turned out to be, possibly, the most important part of the entire journey. Edgar picked me up at 5:30 and then Diddy mere minutes later; clubs, bags, and ill-fated fishing rods in tow. The purr of an early 2k’s Ford Taurus engine cutting the thick morning air like a spoon through sausage, we made our way to the starting line of a Bagginsesque journey. And then, it was upon us. A more perfect omen could not exist if I was to write the script myself. The shrill beeping of a Sirius Satellite Radio alert, the contrast of a sky blue background and cobalt script “Alabama” scrolling across the screen. You know what’s coming next.
“Rollin’ down a backwoods, Tennessee by way. One aaaarrrmmmm on the wheel. Holdin’ my lover … with the other. A sweet soft southern thrill. Worked hard all week, got a little jingle. On a Tennessee Saturday night. Couldn’t feel better, I’m together … with my Dixieland Delight.”
Don’t think for a second that I’m stopping here.
“Spend my dollar, parked in a holler ‘neath the mountain moonlight. Hold her up tight … make a little lovin’, a little turtle dovin’ on a Mason-Dixon night. Fits my life, oh so right. My Dixieland Delight.”
I must reiterate how great this video is.
Honestly, any doubts about how this trip would turn out were erased approximately 17 minutes in. Awaiting us at Hoss’ house was a veritable M1 Abrams tank, or as Chevy likes to call it, a “Tahoe.” Black on black, big wheels and living room space, our chariot was quickly packed and rumbling along southward bound. Cracker Barrel checkers and rocking chairs ahead, Steel City behind.
Road trips are great for an infinite number of reasons, not the least of which is the ability to observe things along the way. For instance, in West Virginia almost every person we saw had a mullet and a moustache. Men and women alike. In North Carolina, there is a big road sign reading “Black Ankle Rd.” Interesting. Such as, “Come down the interstate until you get to the Tibia Extension, take the Ulnar Nerve exit and make a right on Black Ankle Road.”
“Fits my life … Oh so right.”
Road trips are also great times to learn new songs and then get tired of them in mere hours, especially with the advent of Satellite Radio. Akon’s “Don’t Matter” was catchy for the first 2 minutes, but after the 8th time hearing it I went blind. Brad Paisley’s “Ticks” is catchy and somewhat punny, an overall good song. However, when you hear it approximately every 31 minutes it is proven to cause heartburn. For the record, if you get tired of “Dixieland Delight,” scroll up and watch the video again. You will feel awkward and uncomfortable and yet satisfied to the point where its shelf life is extended by 100 years.
Another road trip pastime is the “Name Game”. For those of you with no name game experience, it is when you pick a category (such as entertainment industry and sports) and one person says a name. For purposes of this exercise, imagine the driver of the car says Rip Torn. The next person must then say a name starting with the first letter of the previous star’s last name. In this instance, the next player could mention Tracey Ullman or, say, Tom Cruise which could then lead the next person to … Candace Bergen. The following person, to throw a wrench in the entire process could then toss a double name, that is to say, one with the same letter for first and last name to reverse the flow of the game. This can turn into a 10 minute battle royale between two players as they toss “d” list celebrities back and forth. For instance Bobby Brown can lead to Benjamin Bratt to Barry Bonds to Brett Butler to Brianna Banks to Bert Blyleven to Bilbo Baggins to …you get the point. Regardless, the point is to keep tossing names around until one person in the car either repeats a name or can’t come up with one during the agreed upon shot clock. That person receives a strike. After three strikes, a player is out of the game. Last one standing wins.
I fully intend for this to sound boastful. I won. With ZERO strikes. It wasn’t even close. And it took almost 3 hours of driving. I would like to think Dill Pickle flavored sunflower seeds and various celebrities including, but not limited to Bruce Jenner, Frankie Faison, and of course, Candace Bergen for making me victorious.
Often, other amazing things happen on car trips. For instance, you can learn things that you thought you knew already, but in reality you had never thought to think about before. Hoss, Diddy, Edgar and I were discussing one of Diddy’s cousins who had moved to Texas a few years back. He was born while we were all in high school, so we were attempting to figure out how old he is now. This caused every single one of us to break out our counting fingers and start the digital calculations. Hoss was the first to chime in.
“Well, if he was born when we were sophomores he would have been one that year,” counting on his fingers, “two, three … ten. He is ten years old.”
Diddy countered with the following.
“No, no, no. You are ZERO when you’re born.”
Truer words have never been uttered.
“So in reality, you would have to count zero, one, two, three and so on. He is nine.”
Nobody said we were scholars. But we were in Pinehurst. In North Carolina. Only 12 hours from golfing. And in a palace of a condo. Duffer’s Cottage, as it was called by the trip planning agency people, is a four bedroom four and a half bath condo set amongst fir trees and an unknown body of water. The Sunday morning real estate showcase would sound like:
A lovely walkway and French doors welcome you to Duffer’s cottage in Pinehurst, North Carolina. Sleep comfortably in one of the queen beds in the master suite on the second level with master bath. Three guest bedrooms, each with two beds, will accommodate friends for a long weekend of fun in the sun with access to a murky lake with seemingly stagnant water. Enjoy your morning coffee on Duffer’s wrap around deck before slinking inside for a delectable breakfast in your full kitchen. Should the weather turn ugly, enjoy the galley style basement’s full shuffleboard table and dart board. Perfect location for the golfer or wildlife lover, you’ll want to be sure to check out Duffer’s Cottage in Pinehurst.
Seriously, it was amazing. We dropped anchor inside, leaving our bags just inside the door before running back out to grab the essentials. Beer and food should be easy to find, right? Apparently not in Pinehurst. For one, every road had six names. Suffering from the same disease as New Jersey, you could turn onto “4” and have it be the same road as SR-9781 or “Letterhead Road.” Secondly, we really had no clue where we were, so we had nothing to use as a landmark. And finally when we finally did find buildings that weren’t houses, or hice in my own personal plural, they were ALL hospitals. This was either the geriatric capital of America, or a hospital farm where all hospitals are created. Every mile, emergency. Turn left – hospital. Right – hospital. After 40 minutes of driving around, we found a grocery store and got our bounty. Back to Duffer’s.
And then … we waited.
“Rollin’ down a backwoods, Tennessee by way. One aaaarrrmmmm on the wheel. Holdin’ my lover … with the other. A sweet soft southern thrill. Worked hard all week, got a little jingle. On a Tennessee Saturday night. Couldn’t feel better, I’m together … with my Dixieland Delight.”
Don’t think for a second that I’m stopping here.
“Spend my dollar, parked in a holler ‘neath the mountain moonlight. Hold her up tight … make a little lovin’, a little turtle dovin’ on a Mason-Dixon night. Fits my life, oh so right. My Dixieland Delight.”
I must reiterate how great this video is.
Honestly, any doubts about how this trip would turn out were erased approximately 17 minutes in. Awaiting us at Hoss’ house was a veritable M1 Abrams tank, or as Chevy likes to call it, a “Tahoe.” Black on black, big wheels and living room space, our chariot was quickly packed and rumbling along southward bound. Cracker Barrel checkers and rocking chairs ahead, Steel City behind.
Road trips are great for an infinite number of reasons, not the least of which is the ability to observe things along the way. For instance, in West Virginia almost every person we saw had a mullet and a moustache. Men and women alike. In North Carolina, there is a big road sign reading “Black Ankle Rd.” Interesting. Such as, “Come down the interstate until you get to the Tibia Extension, take the Ulnar Nerve exit and make a right on Black Ankle Road.”
“Fits my life … Oh so right.”
Road trips are also great times to learn new songs and then get tired of them in mere hours, especially with the advent of Satellite Radio. Akon’s “Don’t Matter” was catchy for the first 2 minutes, but after the 8th time hearing it I went blind. Brad Paisley’s “Ticks” is catchy and somewhat punny, an overall good song. However, when you hear it approximately every 31 minutes it is proven to cause heartburn. For the record, if you get tired of “Dixieland Delight,” scroll up and watch the video again. You will feel awkward and uncomfortable and yet satisfied to the point where its shelf life is extended by 100 years.
Another road trip pastime is the “Name Game”. For those of you with no name game experience, it is when you pick a category (such as entertainment industry and sports) and one person says a name. For purposes of this exercise, imagine the driver of the car says Rip Torn. The next person must then say a name starting with the first letter of the previous star’s last name. In this instance, the next player could mention Tracey Ullman or, say, Tom Cruise which could then lead the next person to … Candace Bergen. The following person, to throw a wrench in the entire process could then toss a double name, that is to say, one with the same letter for first and last name to reverse the flow of the game. This can turn into a 10 minute battle royale between two players as they toss “d” list celebrities back and forth. For instance Bobby Brown can lead to Benjamin Bratt to Barry Bonds to Brett Butler to Brianna Banks to Bert Blyleven to Bilbo Baggins to …you get the point. Regardless, the point is to keep tossing names around until one person in the car either repeats a name or can’t come up with one during the agreed upon shot clock. That person receives a strike. After three strikes, a player is out of the game. Last one standing wins.
I fully intend for this to sound boastful. I won. With ZERO strikes. It wasn’t even close. And it took almost 3 hours of driving. I would like to think Dill Pickle flavored sunflower seeds and various celebrities including, but not limited to Bruce Jenner, Frankie Faison, and of course, Candace Bergen for making me victorious.
Often, other amazing things happen on car trips. For instance, you can learn things that you thought you knew already, but in reality you had never thought to think about before. Hoss, Diddy, Edgar and I were discussing one of Diddy’s cousins who had moved to Texas a few years back. He was born while we were all in high school, so we were attempting to figure out how old he is now. This caused every single one of us to break out our counting fingers and start the digital calculations. Hoss was the first to chime in.
“Well, if he was born when we were sophomores he would have been one that year,” counting on his fingers, “two, three … ten. He is ten years old.”
Diddy countered with the following.
“No, no, no. You are ZERO when you’re born.”
Truer words have never been uttered.
“So in reality, you would have to count zero, one, two, three and so on. He is nine.”
Nobody said we were scholars. But we were in Pinehurst. In North Carolina. Only 12 hours from golfing. And in a palace of a condo. Duffer’s Cottage, as it was called by the trip planning agency people, is a four bedroom four and a half bath condo set amongst fir trees and an unknown body of water. The Sunday morning real estate showcase would sound like:
A lovely walkway and French doors welcome you to Duffer’s cottage in Pinehurst, North Carolina. Sleep comfortably in one of the queen beds in the master suite on the second level with master bath. Three guest bedrooms, each with two beds, will accommodate friends for a long weekend of fun in the sun with access to a murky lake with seemingly stagnant water. Enjoy your morning coffee on Duffer’s wrap around deck before slinking inside for a delectable breakfast in your full kitchen. Should the weather turn ugly, enjoy the galley style basement’s full shuffleboard table and dart board. Perfect location for the golfer or wildlife lover, you’ll want to be sure to check out Duffer’s Cottage in Pinehurst.
Seriously, it was amazing. We dropped anchor inside, leaving our bags just inside the door before running back out to grab the essentials. Beer and food should be easy to find, right? Apparently not in Pinehurst. For one, every road had six names. Suffering from the same disease as New Jersey, you could turn onto “4” and have it be the same road as SR-9781 or “Letterhead Road.” Secondly, we really had no clue where we were, so we had nothing to use as a landmark. And finally when we finally did find buildings that weren’t houses, or hice in my own personal plural, they were ALL hospitals. This was either the geriatric capital of America, or a hospital farm where all hospitals are created. Every mile, emergency. Turn left – hospital. Right – hospital. After 40 minutes of driving around, we found a grocery store and got our bounty. Back to Duffer’s.
And then … we waited.
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