Today I drove through Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri and Arkansas.
I’m not kidding.
With my kids in the back seat, my iPod on shuffle and my nose turned toward home.
We’re currently ensconced in a Holiday Inn in West Memphis which, oddly enough, isn’t in Tennessee.
But needless to say, our dinner time conversation centered on Elvis and his Graceland, the weddings, impersonators and bejeweled jumpsuits, and the difference between Elvis and Buddy Holly.
Mind you, my little gals are Texans so they knew all about Holly but not a hoot about Presley. What a funny story he is to conjure up and tell with any sort of credibility. It all sounds a bit, I don’t know, kookie. But to add to the drama and verisimilitude, I ended up singing and doing a little hip demo. In the restaurant. They were duly impressed. The kids, I mean, not the waitstaff.
Maybe this is what happens when you go on the road for five weeks. You end up happy and a bit untethered. We started in Colorado and wound our way to Wisconsin and then Michigan. My L.A. jaunt got tucked in the middle there, and now we’re making the long slog toward home. Don’t even start calculating the miles. It’ll make you queasy.
Our girls were born to road trip. They’ll curl up in the back with their string cheese and bowl of cherries, a ream of construction paper and a book of MadLibs, and lose themselves in dreamland until one of them notices the truly prehistoric insectoid sprinklers crawling across the fields of soybeans and corn. Then it’s back to recording all the license plates they see, sipping on a root beer and listening to one of the Herdman’s books on tape.
My husband and I are always itchin’ for the road so it’s no surprise, I guess. Still, I’m gratified that they’ve acquired the taste for adventure, and the patience to roll along through the middle of middle America when the air’s hot and still and there’s not much to see.
Travel’s like reading, I think. You get a good view of the world out there, and a good view of yourself, too.
Wholly worthwhile. Don’t you think?
Here’s one of my favorite Wallace Stevens poems, in honor of all that:
The Poem that Took the Place of a Mountain
There it was, word for word,
The poem that took the place of a mountain.
He breathed its oxygen,
Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table.
It reminded him how he had needed
A place to go to in his own direction…
That’s a great entry. Have never read that poem before . . .
Have fun, and be safe!
— Jules at 7-Imp
We’re home, safe and sound! Thanks, Jules…
Lovely post (and poem), Liz.
I love Wallace Stevens and that poem in particular. Thanks for reminding me of it.
Nice choice.
Hooray for roadtrips and Wallace Stevens. I like this poem very much indeed.
~eisha
Re: Nice choice.
Thanks, guys. I love this poem, too…
Yay for family road trips! Your girls sound like delightful traveling companions. That is the perfect poem!
-cloudscome
They are (delightful, that is :))
I love reading about road trips much more so than actually taking one, particularly long ones. You’re having such a fun summer.
Don, Devas T.
It’s in my blood, but lots of my friends think I’m crazy. (I did the second half of the month without my husband! Including the drive…) Still, we’re home, safe and happy…
MadLibs. And string cheese. Rootbeer. And someone else to do the driving. Yeah, I can see why your girls are lovin’ it!
Graceland: we did this about three years ago with our kids. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. My daughter especially liked looking at all the fan mail and things people sent him.
Love, love Wallace Stevens. And this poem flows so nicely from the rest of your post. Thanks.
Sara Lewis Holmes
Next time we’ll actually GO to Graceland, on your recommendation.
Thanks for the note, Sara!
Liz —
So enjoying your posts — what a fun writing style you have. Your lines: “Travel’s like reading, I think. You get a good view of the world out there, and a good view of yourself, too. Wholly worthwhile” really made me think & reflect. Thanks for that.
Ruth (from Two Writing Teachers)