Phew.

Glad to be home. Felt good to roll into Portland today. Felt like "coming home." Felt comfortable. Felt thankful to have enjoyed damn near 14,000 miles of smooth sailing. No accidents. No drama. No tickets. Aside from some serious-ass election heartbreak, it was a completely amazing roadtrip.

I got to see everyone. Old friends, family, foes.

One for the record books:
01. Conquered new states...those Carolinas and Louisiana.
02. Sweated it out in the East Mojave desert of California.
03. Shivered to the bone in souther Wyoming.
04. Enjoyed a cheesesteak in Philadelphia.
05. Walked down main street in St. Genevieve, Missouri.
06. Picked some cotton in rural Georgia.
07. Paid homage to those Flaming Lips in Oklahoma City.
08. Hung with my little lady in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.
09. Blew my mind "Smithsonian Style" in DC.
10. Raced across Canada's eastern flank for some 700 miles.
11. Big city wonders: SF, LA, Chicago, NYC, Toronto, Montreal, Philly, Richmond, New Orleans, St. Louis, DC, Detroit and ol' Minneapolis.
12. Followed the complete stretch of Route 66.
13. Sipped cider in the fall foliage Vermont'ed majesty.
14. Lunch at the Ideal Diner, Central Ave, Minnepolis.
15. Got the shit scared out of me on Busch Gardens rollercoasters.
16. "Ran hot" for some 2400 miles on I-80 and I-84, Westward.
17. Gave my respects to Civil War P.O.W.'s.
18. Saw Lincoln's home in Springfield. His shitter, too!
19. Wonder about Uncle Tupelo in Belleville, Illinois.
20. Archgazing in St. Louis.
21. Legoland love in Enfield, Connecticutt.
22. Slept in shady reststops all over hell.
23. Hung with my parents in Michigan.
24. Earned money designing documents off a rickety-ass laptop rig.
25. Completed another issue of SNOWBOARD. Whoo-eee.
26. Made Elk Rapids, Michigan my home away from home, more or less.
27. Got lost in Mississippi and didn't give two shits otherwise.
28. Smelled the pukey streets of hte French Quarter in New Orleans.
29. Cursed Ohio for some 150 miles.
30. Sang along to the Coug's greates hits across norther Indiana.
31. Flipped off Los Angeles for one last time. No more SoCal. No more.
32. Got to know the menu at Waffle House restaurants.
33. Got a little sentimental at those Bridges of Madison County, Iowa.
34. Scaled foggy-ass mountain passes in eastern Oregon.
35. Battled flurries in western Nebraska.
36. Got to know the "truckstop life." Love, loss and chicken-fried steak.
37. Hung with dad for some 2400 miles.
38. Paid respects to Uncle Jess. I've got good memories of you.
39. Saw all the Aunts and Uncles for big night at Sarah's pad.
40. Wondered about things like stars and earth and water all over.
41. Cursed the clogged Jersey turnpike.
42. Enjoyed a new wave of DDC promo items. (stay tuned!)
43. "Maintained" rock-solid client relationships. Well, tried to, at least.
44. Crossed the Mackinaw Bridge.
45. Drove up the Mississippi River for some 1200 miles.
46. Got a clean shave from Angel Delgadillo in Seligman, Arizona.
47. Crooned to classic soul tunes in Memphis, Tennessee.
48. Snipped a mere corner of Kentucky, and came out unscathed.
49. Snapped a million photos.
50. And made it home in one piece.

50 days on the road.

Well, I threw the towel in today and headed west.

Leaving was sad. It always is. Mom headed up north, dad worked in the Detroit area, Sarah fitted someone with a hearing aid. I loaded up and headed down through the city and down to Toledo, where I took possibly the "biggest right turn" of the whole adventure: Heading west on I-80.

From there it's more less a straight shot all the way out to Salt Lick City. Ohio > Indiana > Illinois > Iowa > Nebraska > Wyomin' > Utah > Idaho > Oregon. 2400 miles. Motherfuckin' Westbound.

- - - -

I found myself scorning Ohio. I shouldn't. I mean, Guided By Voices is from there. Hell, Ron Hassey of the Cleveland Indians fouled a ball off his bat that landed in my dad's hands, which he promptly handed over to me. A magic moment. I found myself bummin' on the President, a current theme in my thinker.

I hope he does a good job. I hope. Otherwise, go to hell.

- - - -

I made it across Ohio, northern Indiana and got a good whiff of Gary, northern Illinois and ultimately coming to rest in Davenport, Iowa. 500 miles on I-80.

- - - -

As I leave the Midwest and East behind, I'd like to thank everyone for the amazing hospitality and goodwill. Thank you. I'll be back, I'll be back.

Dad, Uncle Kevin and I headed out the Macomb-lands south to bowels of Detroit. "Memory Lane" sort of stuff for dad, as he spent his youth downtown working, playing and well, doing all sorts of other tomfoolery.

Detroit is a study in extremes. You get the sense that the city is trying hard to recover, to rebuild. But then, you turn a corner and the street is completely bombed out and dead. From beauty to dead, and well, just about that quick.

Dad had a story for each place we checked out.

The place I remember most is Great Lakes Steel. Mom and I would wait in the parking lot for dad to get off his shift. He'd walk down a set of steps and I'd see him and go apeshit. I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was three.

I snapped 100+ pics of old buildings, signs and textures...a little photo archive of a bluebird Detroit day.

I found myself wondering what it would be like to live there. I was born there. I have a connection, albeit faint. I was made in Detroit.

HEADING "DOWN STATE" NOTES: Dad dragged me outta bed at damn near the crack of dawn. Well, 8am. We were on the road another 30 minutes later. We drove "fast and hard," the way my Gramma Leo cooked her hamburgers. We were down to Uncle Jess' memorial service by noon.

See, when you head south to Detroit, you go, "Down state."
When you head back north, you are going, "Up north."

Learn it. Live it.

- - - -

Uncle Jess' service was nice, quiet, spirited, pleasant. Anything but sad. People have great memories of the old guy, and man, that is what it is all about.

Got to see some old cousins, as well as my loving Aunts and Uncles. Good stuff. It was nice to be with everyone. We had a nice lunch afterwards, chatted it up and then hit the road out to "middle of nowhwere" which is where my sister Sarah chose for her home. Yay. Dad warmed up some soup, set out some munchies and everyone carried on peacefully. Good stuff.

Fell asleep on the couch and dreamed of my bed back home.

Still bummed.

Trying to forget.

Trying times ahead.

I find myself in complete disbelief.

I had so much hope for a new start.

- - - -

We finished the mag today. Baker flew home. Mark, Liz and Little Sascha packed up their RV, and I headed back to the parental compound after a seven day marathon design fest.

Phew. Thanks guys, see you in December. Good work. Thanks to Campbell for the space.

- - - -

Heading down to Detroit tomorrow morning. My Great Uncle Jess passed on earlier this week. The last of my Gramma Leo’s siblings, Uncle Jess’ raspy, contagious laugh will forever be in my thinker.

It’ll be nice to see everyone from the family, do some catching up, do some remembering.

This one’s for you, Uncle Jess.

(" ")

Safe? Proud? Moral?

The Draft? Amen, brother.

THE STARS AND STRIPES, OF CORRUPTION

I just gave this read, as man, it fired me up when I was 15, and still does at on this sad day.

Sing along to this and think about where we are at, and where we are going. It was penned in 1984 by Jello Biafra of the Dead Kennedys.

THIS JUST IN: The DDC projects–by an overwhelming landslide–that George W. Bush is just as incompetent, arrogant, pompous, simple ("folky" is a better term for a imbecile president) and ultimately horrifically dangerous as he was over the last four years.

But hey, God is on his side. Phew.

- - - -

A sad day for a great country.

A nation of sheep scared into believing a presidency based on fabricated threats, incompetence as carefully-spun “suck-cessful policy,” slick, star-spangled, bald-faced lies, war-monger puppetry, class elitism as joking fodder, environmental abuse, oil handshakes, American jobs sold overseas, suppressing a woman’s right, homophobia, moral bigotry, making the rich richer and richer and richer, human rights abuse, cowboy foreign policy, corporate fucking greed and one man’s uncanny ability to absolutely suck in the world’s eyes.

Shame on you, George Bush.

YOU ARE NOT MY PRESIDENT.

Shame on you, the 51 percent who were scared into voting for the asshole.

People can’t think for themselves, and look who they turn to for answer? It sickens me and brings me to fucking tears, so blown away that people are buying into their lies.

Four more years of posturing.
Four more years of a false war.
Four more years of dying servicemen and servicewomen.
Four more years…

I fear he will bring us to our knees on a national level, and more importantly on a world level, because we couldn’t/wouldn’t admit that we aren’t the strongest, or the smartest, or the most civilized, or made proper decisions, or that we underestimated this and that…

We are in trouble.

I think about Dick Cheney. I get sick to my stomach.
I think about Young Republican chapters witht their suits and slick smiles and deep pockets. Our future? Fuck, the worst. Greedy youth.
I think about those poor troops over there. Fuck.
I think about good lookin’, healthy, white, blessed soccer moms concerned about their safety.
I think about how many more times Bush will shame the military with publicity stunts.
I think about middle class workers who lost their jobs, yet still voted for the guy over their right to own a fucking automatic weapon or due to pressure of latent homophobia.
I think of a country that values conservative stubborness over progression.

Maybe, that just how America is? Small-minded, stubborn, undereducated, afraid, proud, in the dark, uninterested, easily guided by slicksters…yet, jobs are being lost, the environments silently suffers, the “war” turns out to be more and more of a gigantic blunder, the pulse races in the Middle East, the country divides…

- - - -

All I ask for–and I don’t think it’s too much on any level–is to have someone on top to look up to, to believe in, to feel thankful for, to put my faith in…and man, I CANNOT put my trust into this asshole. I can’t, and won’t.

I was looking forward to driving home, across a great nation that was fresh on the heels of starting over, ready to heal, with a breath of fresh air in its sails…and now, I have to drive home wondering what went wrong.

More of the same, eh? Fuck.

Too busy for updates at this point in my career.

Gigantically engulfed in a shitstorm of freelance endeavors, Michigan rest-n-relaxation un-activity, election sweating and trip planning to get me back out west.

Our days in Elk Rapids have been a flurry of activity. Pages are getting built and tuned and readied for uploading to the printer. So it goes.

The days are cold and gray, with blowing leaves. Ahhh, fall.

Going home each night, back to the parent‚s pad, is the best part of the day. I love being with them. Been wondering what it would be like live "back home" again, in Traverse City.

But honestly, there are more than enough reminders to keep me the fuck out of here for a long, long time.

- - -

And finally, for the dentist‚s office I walk by each day with the "Kerry: Betraying America Since 1971" sign in the window, I'd like to offer up a hearty "Fuck You."