In the restaurants blue gas fires burning under stacks of ceramic logs that look almost real until you get close. Omni present in the background that bland tapioca-like sound my wife calls ”department-store music.” Décor by Holiday Inn – all the motel lobby furnishings, all the restaurant tables and chairs and lighting fixtures, look as though they came from the same factory somewhere in Sothern California. Everything designed by a neurotic suffering from a severe case of social irrelevance.
What’s the alternative to this comfortable mediocrity? A grand European-style luxury that most of us would not be able to afford? Or a return to the mode of a century ago, coming into a mountain village on horseback, having a cold supper by lamplight in the cabin-kitchen of some morose mountaineer, while savage coon dogs howl, slaver and snarl on the other side of the door, and going to sleep in the early dark on a cornhusk matrass, prey to a host of bloodsucking vermin?
Which would you prefer? Which would I really prefer?
You won’t believe me but I’ll tell you: I fancy the latter, i.e., the horse, cabin, dogs and bugs.
It would fit, sometimes. During my latest visit to the western part of the state (Appalachia) last week, one of my students handed me a McDonalds paper take out sack and told me to be careful with it. On further inspection it contained a mason jar filled with moonshine; a different kind of happy meal! Now that would fit right in with that mountain village cabin, the howling dogs and cornhusk matrass. He described it as moonshine (95 proof he told me) made from corn. I can just imagine the corn kernels making the libation and the husk making the place to sleep off the hangover, the after effects of drinking the results of the fermentation and distillation process of those ground up yellow seeds. I tasted it when I got home, it was somewhat syrupy and did not taste half bad!
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| Moonshine anyone? Chilled and ready to go. I discarded the packaging. |
I have been coming to this motel for ten years. I have even been stuck in there during two snow storms. We had to cancel classes and I was imprisoned in a room at that place for more than 36 hours. Entertainment existed of either some panicking individuals on television discussing the current weather conditions in and around DC; another TV station with some superficial garbage masquerading as news or a show; a book or magazine I had brought with me; or some form of digital entertainment. At times I may actually have done some work. I eventually ended up trudging through 12 inches deep snow across the street to a Hooters restaurant for lunch. Honest to God, one of the few times in my life I have eaten at Hooters. I am a real testament that the Hooters chicken wings are not half bad. My waitress was Russian, and she was wearing some very skimpy revealing outfit while it was snowing outside. I somehow thought that to her it must have felt just like Moscow or Siberia in winter at that moment; it did not seem to faze her at all. My nightly dinner was at Red Lobster next to the motel. That was how far I ventured from the motel, I waited out the storm and extended my stay a day or two, so I could finish my class: a dedicated instructor, indeed.
These snowstorms always seem to start around four in the morning and wind down around eight in the evening, to have reasonably clear roads by the next morning. One exception was what is still known as “snowmageddon” in the Washington DC area. I was stuck in that one as well in northern Virginia but not in that motel. That one struck at 3 pm and was so bad that by the time rush hour started everybody was stuck. I made it to my hotel and we ended up making snow men in the hotel parking lot.
Traveling can be fun and interesting. In previous posts I wrote about noisy neighbors and about some of my naughtier thoughts about the furnishings in motel and hotel rooms. I try to make the best of it. It can be lonely, that’s for sure. In the past, I was able to meet up with a good friend, break bread and have a pint with him. That has gotten a bit more difficult since he changed jobs. But I still don’t want to live like a hermit when traveling. It would be too easy to buy a TV dinner, order a pizza for delivery, or get Chinese take-out and mope in my room. For one, I hate to sleep in a room filled with the smell of stale food. Moreover, I hate to walk through a motel and see dirty dishes piled up in the halls. That’s not my style either. So off I go to a restaurant.
I generally do not eat in my motel or hotel. The places I stay are not of the highest class and the food is only average and predictable. I also like to people watch. Nothing better (or sad) than seeing a couple come in with their two kids. Sitting down at the table; hubby and wify grab their cell phone and start staring at it, not communicating with each other, nor their kids. Kids of course don’t have a phone or anything else; they just stare in front of themselves, they may talk to each other, but that is rare. They just sit there as logs, waiting for dinner to arrive, contemplating how best to become the best next mass murderer or high school shooter. Just some of the interesting and sad things one sees when traveling around. It aggravates and upsets me. However, as I mentioned before, traveling can have its good points too, especially when you get to enjoy nature, the sounds of nature next door, the sights or just the (fermented) results and tastes of nature. Cheers!
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| I actually had a chance to take a picture of this scene in the restaurant. Father and mother are staring at their phones and had been doing that for a while. The kids are bored and just staring ahead, not knowing what to do with themselves, waiting to be fed. |
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