Part Three - Walking Freely

Route near Streetsboro, Ohio.

These purple trees were everywhere along the Interstates.

Yes, that's a beer in my hands.

Fairview Heights, Illinois' Joe's Crab Shack where I had crab cakes as in the photo above this one. Yummie!

Not only am I embarassed about having forgotten Illinois, but yesterday, while rechecking my hotel receipts to find the name of the town in Missouri where I stayed overnight, I found out that I had actually stayed at the Super 8 in Fairview Heights, Illinois on the third night of Crossing the U.S.A.

Freedom takes time to get used to. The kind of freedom that involves moving the body from one point to the other and this for seven days. Every minute was about a decision to do something for myself. It gave me a chance to consider being selfish having no other choices, like if someone was traveling with me, it would have been a whole different set up and experience. Maybe even better but different. I had to remind myself every minute that I was free to do and go anywhere I wanted. I liked the feeling so much that it became secondary where I went and what I did.

Enough about me though. Right before Oklahoma City, as the Interstate I-44 will slightly descend, I see it (the road) ahead take the shape of a heart. It divided itself into a heart and then became one again. I had just passed the sign which said "you are now passing through the heart of America" and maybe not in those words (did you think of recording or photographing this? no, how could I? I was in awe and I am not sure I saw what I saw. Do not confuse the word awe with saw.)

In Ohio, I went to a Native American museum at Fort Ancient. A deeply informative, multi-media presentation of Native American life from thousands of years ago to the recent past with trails going through their ancient city, archeological finds, recreated boats, paintings, ancient tools, etc. Would talking about how I felt when I came out of the museum be considered "she is talking about herself?" If you will forgive me, it made me sad.

In Weatherford, Oklahoma, the radio clock in my hotel room showed one hour, the television showed another and my cell phone another. OK, this was a motel and I was the only customer that night. But for $29 a night, the room was big, had a mini-frig, a microwave, a television, a shower and the television remote was given to you upon registration and payment.

"You mean people will steal the remote too?" I asked the very tired and non-smiling woman who came out of a room to greet me.

"They will steal anything!" came the tired answer.

"But if they steal this, what would they do with it without a television?"

"That's just it" she said and we silently became friends having agreed that you need a television set in order to use a remote. The woman was feeling better already. I could see it on her face. I was feeling better too having made my mark as an innocent intelligent. Now, as I am writing, I see it differently.

First, my question should have been "Why don't you keep the remote with the television?" Then I would have known instead of thinking like a paranoid traveler who thinks there are thiefs everywhere and that would be the only reason for the remote to be kept in the office. So I still don't know what made her smile.

Secondly, once they pay and they have the remote, what would keep them from stealing the tv set too?

Unless the thiefs are non-customers, i.e. "let's go and rob the Economy Inn" folks. Then, and only then this would make sense. Enlighten me.

The next morning, at the gas station, I asked the cashier clerk for the time and when she told me the time I asked "In Weatherford?" She said "In Oklahoma." I can't describe the look on her face when she said that and I can't describe the embarassment I felt. I punished myself by getting chicken strips and potatoes, at 10 o'clock in the morning, which were, thankfully, very tasty and deliciose and so finger licking good that I couldn't stop eating.

My first evening on the road, in Streetsboro, Ohio, the motel was across from a restaurant named Rockne's. This intrigued me because I used to date a Rockny in 1976 and I had not heard that name since. I walked freely towards the eatery after registration and smack came face to face with a picture of Rockne Knute in sports attire and a football in his hands. I figured the restaurant is named after him. On my way out I wanted to know what was his claim to fame. The receptionist didn't know, the waitress didn't know, a passing waiter was happy to let me know that he was the football coach of Notre Dame. "Was that before Jerry...uh...oh..." I was wondering if it was Parseghian or Tarkanian? There was no help from the waiter either so I asked him where Notre Dame was. In which town or state I wanted to know. My knowledge kept making me think of Las Vegas but hey, I could be wrong. The waiter didn't know where Notre Dame was.

I just did a search on Rockne and I find out as head coach of the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana from 1918 to 1930, he achieved an all-time winning percentage of 88.2%, the highest percentage in Football Bowl Subdivision (formerly known as Division I-A) history.

Coincidentally, the only person I know who is from Indiana, David Letterman, was just announced as coming up on Live with Regis and Kathy and that's the reason I have the television on at 10 a.m. today. I was on his show many years ago you know.

So, I'll talk to you in Part IV of Crossing the U.S.A.