A Short Trip on Route 66

This past weekend the Plumber convinced me that a short jaunt down to Springfield to see his buddy Rich would be just the ticket. Since I absolutely abhor riding the motorcycle on any type of speedway, multi-lane or super-highway he promised that it would be a leisurely trip down the famed Route 66. You know “get your kicks on Route 66”.

Not knowing what to expect, and knowing that the Plumber took this route many times in his solo adventures, I packed my extra pair of socks and jeans, grabbed my latest JD Robb novel and off we went - yes I have been known to read entire novels and fall asleep on the back of the Plumber's motorcycle.

After a quick breakfast we were off to whiz through the town of Dwight. Affectionately called “Not Just A Bump in the Road” by its residents, Dwight is a quaint little town that boasts a Big Al’s Hot Dogs, which is one of the first things you see as you enter Dwight.

Still swimming gastrically in Biscuits and Gravy, I was unable to sample a Route 66 dog.

Soon you will pass Ambler’s Texaco Station.

Built in 1933, it later became The Marathon Oil Station and serviced travelers until 1998. The building is currently being restored by the community and will serve as visitor’s center.

Next up, my favorite Odell. Odell made the most of the Mother Road distinction and you can tell that it was quite the rambling town in its hey day! My favorite is the Standard Oil Station that now serves as the town’s historical center.

When you pull up, a man rambles out of his on-site trailer and shuffles up to open the museum. He waits patiently and quietly while you survey the museums goodies, which has an impressive display of refrigerator magnets, which I have been known to purchase.

Restaurant Tip? Try Old Log Cabin in Pontiac or my now ultimate favorite “Filling Station” in Lexington. What a surprise that was! We were starving and really could eat so we pulled into Filling Station and sat down. There was more Route 66 memorabilia that I had seen in the previous towns.

It seemed the owner who has owned the place for 26 years, bought everything up that had anything to do with Route 66. Anyway, I ordered the Chicken Fajita sandwich. Not expecting much I was floored when the server brought out a huge slice of Italian bread loaded with Fajita filling and sizzling from the broiled pounds of cheese on top. OMG! It was heaven on a plate!!! Of course, the Plumber ate half. Order it if you stop.

In Towanda or nearby in the never-ending fields of corn, there is a halfway decent looking biker bar- we got lost there. Try it and let me know how it works out for ya!

Bloomington/Normal. If there was ever a town that did not give a rats ass about history then this is it! The signs for Route 66 abruptly stop and you are sent on one helluva goose chase through subdivisions, ratty areas and fraternity houses. Skip this area! Bypass by going around and use I-55. You can pick up Route 66 right outside of town.

Funk’s Grove was set deep in forestland. And they have some kick butt maple syrup – I bought some in a really cool maple leaf bottle. But spell it SIRUP not syrup. Stop there and ask why – I’m not telling.

Atlanta is not and I repeat NOT to be confused with the Peachtree city. Talk about a "children of the corn" moment. We drove in to a deserted town where the only sound was a squeeking swing and past more bars then I think they are people. A dingy scary town with taverns and boarded up shops with no windows and rusty metal siding. Even the police station is falling apart. Stopped at an intersection in that very eerie town, all of a sudden, a bell tolled loudly right above out heads – we skedaddled as quickly as we could out of that place all the while I babbled about white blond, blue eyed children zombies coming out of the corn to sacrifice us.

Elkhart is pretty cute.

The town boasts the Talk of the Town café where we spent an hour sipping a pop and observing the townspeople. That poor little waitress was running the whole show and in flip-flops no less – ouch!

Well this is my slice of traveling the Mother Road. Hope you enjoyed it but I have get back to my book.

Honor Thy Mother and Father.... Then What?

Floating through Mother’s Day with 3 out of 4 (kids that is) being dutiful as far as Ma Bell would make available and Father’s Day where the funnier the card is the more appreciated, I started to ponder on the Honor your Mother and Father commandment. That would be, Moses’s Number 4 in the Judeo/Christian world and Number 5 for the R.C’s, for all you heathens out there. But I digress. Now to take this literally, I would have all the boys plus daughter fawning at my feet and washing them with their contrite salty tears but that is another Cecil B DeMille moment I try not to let my psychologist know about. But, to really look at that commandment is to dig deeper.

The word Honor according to Princeton’s Wordnet is as follows:

A tangible symbol signifying approval or distinction; "an award for honor and bravery" . That works for me. All Mother’s at some point or another should be awarded for bravery especially for those late night “Come pick me up from jail calls”. A woman's virtue or chastity. May not work considering the whole honor the parent thing means this is pretty much null and void. The quality of being honorable and having a good name. Hmmm since I change my name a little bit more than most, this might have a hard time catching up with me. Respect: show respect towards; "honor your parents!" Ah BINGO! That is what it is; respect.

Respect thy Mother and Father. Pretty straightforward right? Well there are mitigating circumstances that respecting your Mother and Father may be a little hard to do such as in the case of Mom or Pop is a serial killer, crack addict that abandoned you at two, or you were beat every day of your life. But, to offer simple, decent, respect is fairly easy to a parent that loves you and would like to be a part of your grown-up life. That meaning that you have actually grown-up.

I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with in my terrible teens then my tumultuous twenties, where it could have been textbook to blame my parents for the fact that I couldn’t make a solid decision to save my life. But I don’t blame them; I maintained my rights to screw up. So if you had a difficult life then sort it out and forgive. Easy, right? No, but the benefits outweigh the pain of forgiving.

Simple, decent respect means to call your parents on a regular basis, to stop dwelling on the negative, increase the positives in your life by having a relationship with your parents that at the very least is cordial. And a real important point is if you ask for advice; don’t be pissed off when they give it. Advice from a parent is usually well tried and there is experienced knowledge behind it. And you are never too old to be pulled back out of your whirling dervish self. That is just the parental love shining through.

So to tie this up there is a great verse from Ephesians 6:1-3 that states 1 Honor (esteem and value as precious) your father and your mother 2 this is the first commandment with a promise. 3 That all may be well with you and that you may live long on the earth.

Hey check that out! You can have a long wonderful life if you respect your parents! The alternative of course is your choosing.

R. Kelly: The True Definition of Ewww...

He married Aaliyah Haughton when she was 15 years old.

He settled two lawsuits by two women who said he had sex with them when they were minors.

A third lawsuit by another woman accusing R. Kelly of forcing her to have an abortion after impregnating her when she was a teen-ager is still pending.

Can we all say P-R-E-D-A-T-O-R? Can we spell R K-E-L-L-Y?

I hope that intelligent people will realize that an “acquittal” does not mean innocent. It means there was reasonable doubt. And really good bottom feeders on your side.

According to the Chicago Tribune who interviewed the jurors after the R. Kelly Child Porn case, “At first it was 5 in favor of acquittal, 5 undecided and 2 guilty. It got as close as 7-5 in favor of acquittal before the majority was able to convince those leaning toward convicting the singer there was not enough evidence.”

After hearing from reporters the details of Kelly’s other lawsuits and obvious interest in the bobby sox set, one juror replied “All of us felt the grayness of the case," a juror explained. That grayness is another word for "reasonable doubt."

Oh give it a break! The case of the matter is that yet again another celebrity gets away with murder! Oops wrong celebrity. It is a common occurrence that Jurors across the country are sitting star struck while the most vile of criminals get acquittals.

But the jurors are not the only ones at fault here. Outside the courtroom gaggles of middle aged mommas were clamoring to touch the hand of the man that they could sell their daughter to. Yuck! Ignorance and Star Gazing go hand in hand.

I only hope that his penance will come in the form of plummeting record sales. I know many that can’t listen to a Michael Jackson song without getting the willies knowing that he and his little star gazing followers are yucking it up and thumbing their finger at the law. Kelly’s lawyers said that the true Robert was in the courtroom, thanking Jesus and spewing blubbery protestations.

Hey Kelly! Jesus had nothing to do with it pal. You will fall one day and the same Star Gazers that adore you now, with their innocent sacrificial daughters hands in tow, will be the only offal that will support you.

I'll Tell Them

And you can tell everybody this is your song

I went to see the Sex and the City movie the other night with my dearest friend and after the movie we strolled a bit in the electrically charged night air of Chicago. This was our city F and me; it was our version of New York. And just like Miranda, Carrie, Samantha and Charlotte, we had many great nights as well as many lonely nights there as well.

At dinner that night, F and I were talking about life, loves and of course children and she said something to me that struck me as the true meaning of friendship. She asked if anything happened to her, who would tell her children who she really was. Not the typical “she was a wonderful person” but the real true meaning of who she was. The effusive giggler, the voracious reader, the rambunctious whirling dervish, the brave daredevil, the creative and poetic night owl; the sides that most people don’t have a chance to see.

I said I would tell. I would tell her son and soon to be second baby F all about the strength that flowed from her that had the power of a raging river. That she had the ability to look pain in the eye and tell it “not now” and soldier on. I would tell them how her childhood may have formed her but never, ever defined her. How she could dance the night away but also spend nights just enjoying the quietness of her surroundings That their Mother practiced the art of forgiveness and never gave up hope. That she knew the true meaning of friendship.

So many of us hide certain aspects of our personality and those secrets are only spilled out in the presence of that one true friend. The friend that you can tell your story to and she will keep it locked away. A friend that never turns their back on you. A friend that knows when to pull you out of your own spinning life circus and also knows when to leave you in it; knowing that she will be there to dry the tears. And a friend that will fight for you to the bitter end because that is what she is; a true friend.

To be a true friend, you must be able to hold her secrets safely for her until the time that you need to let those that loved her know the real woman. I have a wealth of knowledge tucked away about F. My memory runs long and it runs very deep. I have stories that will show her children the real woman their Mother was. The one that I love so very much and will always be there for. I have her memorized in my mind. Even down to the shape of her hands and the serenity of her hugs. So your answer F? I will keep my promise, I’ll tell them

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world