DAY 8
Destination: El Reno, OK to Norman, OK
Date: 7.15.97 (Tuesday)
Mileage: 20,663 to 20,715 (52 miles)
Bar(s): Cyber Hall
Imbibed: 2 caffe mochas
WE'RE TAKING A NEW APPROACH TO RE-TELLING MY story. There were 3 pieces of road trip documentation that originally inspired this blog project: the Road Trip Journal in which I kept a fairly precise who/what/where/how many log; the Pocket-Sized Notebook where I jotted notes and thoughts from many a barstool; and the sketch-pad-turned-scrapbook I've yet to share on this site, featuring everything from ticket stubs to contact info to musings on love from many of the people I crossed paths with.
Unfortunately, all 3 of these things are packed away somewhere in a box in Sister Jill's jam packed garage back in Temecula. And if I wasn't 1500 miles away in Austin, I'd zip over there ASAP and dig up each of the dog-eared touchstones from the road. My recent 2-week stay in SoCal left very little time to sift through a couple dozen boxes and bags. I won't go into the details, but the clock was ticking as I quickly rooted through 49 years worth of my stuff. Even though I KNOW they're hiding in there somewhere, I never did unearth those 3 key artifacts to help me retell this story.
What I did, however, manage to dig up and send back home with me to Austin included a bunch of b&w photos from the trip, contact sheets, a few more notebooks, rough draft pages and a half dozen Hi-8 video tapes. But what I'm most excited about diving into is the 50 1-hour microcassettes that have recordings of everything from barstool chats with strangers to random observations while I'm driving to recaps from the previous night's wanderlusting.
Today's entry gave me a good taste of what this is gonna be like.
Unfortunately, all 3 of these things are packed away somewhere in a box in Sister Jill's jam packed garage back in Temecula. And if I wasn't 1500 miles away in Austin, I'd zip over there ASAP and dig up each of the dog-eared touchstones from the road. My recent 2-week stay in SoCal left very little time to sift through a couple dozen boxes and bags. I won't go into the details, but the clock was ticking as I quickly rooted through 49 years worth of my stuff. Even though I KNOW they're hiding in there somewhere, I never did unearth those 3 key artifacts to help me retell this story.
What I did, however, manage to dig up and send back home with me to Austin included a bunch of b&w photos from the trip, contact sheets, a few more notebooks, rough draft pages and a half dozen Hi-8 video tapes. But what I'm most excited about diving into is the 50 1-hour microcassettes that have recordings of everything from barstool chats with strangers to random observations while I'm driving to recaps from the previous night's wanderlusting.
Today's entry gave me a good taste of what this is gonna be like.
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..
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"Astrology isn't good or bad. It's about intensity. And it's all about what you get out of it."
Listening to my taped conversation with John the Mechanic for the 1st time in over a decade, I'm transported back to what was a turning point in this crazy road trip. It was during my 1-night pit stop in Norman, Oklahoma that my mind truly cracked open to new ideas. New possibilities. New notions of reality.
On this warm July evening in Oklahoma, my trip felt like it had taken a turn towards the mystical. As if I was on a journey bigger than myself.
On this warm July evening in Oklahoma, my trip felt like it had taken a turn towards the mystical. As if I was on a journey bigger than myself.
"Astrology is like the weatherman predicting that a tornado is coming. He doesn't know if it's gonna hit this building or that building. But he knows it's coming."
I've never been someone who completely buys into the idea of astrology. Nor am I someone who completely discounts it either. More than anything, my interest has been tweaked by the fact that so many of the qualities ascribed to the Gemini seem to fit me — not ALL of them from this summary, but maybe more than I'd care to admit.
I've just never completely grasped how my personality and character could be affected by where the sun and the planets were at the very moment I was born. How is that possible?
But then John the Mechanic started pointed out how all these other unseen forces can have a real, tangible effect on our lives. The cloud cover screwing up your radio signal. The moon pushing and pulling the tides. It's all energy. And astrology, as it was explained to me by John the Mechanic, is simply a bigger picture of the environment that can shape our experiences.
I've just never completely grasped how my personality and character could be affected by where the sun and the planets were at the very moment I was born. How is that possible?
But then John the Mechanic started pointed out how all these other unseen forces can have a real, tangible effect on our lives. The cloud cover screwing up your radio signal. The moon pushing and pulling the tides. It's all energy. And astrology, as it was explained to me by John the Mechanic, is simply a bigger picture of the environment that can shape our experiences.
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..
...
"You've got intense weather on you. But, intensity means energy. And when you've got energy, you've got something you can work with. It's like cash flow for a business. If you've got cash flow, at least you can DO somethin'. You may be in debt, but if you don't have cash flow, if you don't have ENERGY, you can't do shit. You've got a lotta energy right now...Use it...It's a good time to push."
I explain to John the Mechanic that I haven't had to push. Things are coming my way. The stories are showing up in my lap. Today was a prime example of that. Every single day during my first week on the road I had some sort of mechanical issue with VanGo. Whether it was stalling on me as I tried to drive out of LA. Or making a disconcerting knocking noise from the engine after I attempted a valve adjustment in Flagstaff. Or breaking down in the rain on the outskirts of El Reno. Every day it's been SOMETHING.
Then today I stop at a cyber bar in Norman to tidy up the back of my van and grab something to drink. And who do I meet as I'm cleaning up my mess? A free-thinking, New Age mechanic eager to talk astrology, quantum physics and relationships. Not exactly the Okie bumpkin the typical LA snob might envision being the norm out here in middle America.
One of the beauties of traveling is blowing up the stereotypes perpetuated by fools who've never been anywhere.
The best part about my New Age Okie pit stop was that John the Mechanic owned his own foreign car garage — the ideal candidate to work on a beat old VW — and he was insisting on having a look under my hood tomorrow.
Can you say guardian angel?
Then today I stop at a cyber bar in Norman to tidy up the back of my van and grab something to drink. And who do I meet as I'm cleaning up my mess? A free-thinking, New Age mechanic eager to talk astrology, quantum physics and relationships. Not exactly the Okie bumpkin the typical LA snob might envision being the norm out here in middle America.
One of the beauties of traveling is blowing up the stereotypes perpetuated by fools who've never been anywhere.
The best part about my New Age Okie pit stop was that John the Mechanic owned his own foreign car garage — the ideal candidate to work on a beat old VW — and he was insisting on having a look under my hood tomorrow.
Can you say guardian angel?
"Part of it's your clarity...I'm not sayin' you're broadcasting, 'Hey, c'mere and talk to me!'...I believe in physics we don't understand, energy we don't see. And your clarity in here [pointing to his heart then his head] — see, we're more than physical bodies. There are people looking for you when you walk through this street. And it's partly your clarity that will attract them to you. Just trust your clarity."
For whatever reason, interesting people with stories that seem to reflect my own personal history keep appearing on my radar. And I'm doing nothing to make it happen other than showing up.
Then again, is it even possible to have clarity downing cocktails and beers every night?
Then again, is it even possible to have clarity downing cocktails and beers every night?
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..
...
"What I'm encouraging you, though, is to stick with it. And your clarity. Because when some of this weather, some of this energy, gets rough, keep your clarity. Because there's something in there that you can use. And your clarity will get you through it."
It's interesting to me 13 years later that John the Mechanic was so adamant about me persevering and calling on my clarity. Because over the course of trying to write this book I completely LOST my clarity on what I was trying to write and what I wanted to say.
I felt I had too many stories, too many options. I became creatively hamstrung. I felt indebted to everyone who shared their story and I was worried how what I wrote would be received by P. and her family, my family, my friends, my editor, my publisher. I wrote from fear. Whatever clarity I possessed at this point in my adventure — and it was genuine and powerful at various points in my journey — somehow got lost in a cloud circumspection and 2nd guessing when it came time to write about it.
But John the Mechanic claimed it was my clarity, my energy, that made him strike up a conversation with me.
He'd already strolled past me and my red and white VW bus before walking into the cyber bar. But something told him to turn around and inquire about what I was doing. It was an hour or 2 before dusk when we started chatting. Before we knew it, we ended up talking until well past midnight. John the Mechanic even offered to let me crash in an empty bedroom at his place. (His roommate was out of town.)
It was almost 3 in the morning when I finally climbed into that empty bed and nodded off. But not before John the Mechanic decided we should bust out the acoustic guitars for a 1-song jam session of Dylan's "Knockin' On Heaven's Door."
"Sometimes, even when the car breaks down, it's that synchronistic time that puts me in town at the same time that other person is in town looking for me."
In the morning, John the Mechanic took me to his favorite diner and bought me breakfast. Then he insisted I follow him to his nearby foreign car garage, where I hung out talking love and relationships with a couple funny mechanics who worked at the place.
Meanwhile, John the Mechanic dove into my engine like Van Gogh dove into a painting. In less than an hour he fixed whatever had been broken, tightened whatever had been loosened and gave VanGo a tune-up — which John the Mechanic insisted on doing for free — that turned my pain-in-the-ass old clunker into a trouble free beast for the next 3 months.
It's interesting to me 13 years later that John the Mechanic was so adamant about me persevering and calling on my clarity. Because over the course of trying to write this book I completely LOST my clarity on what I was trying to write and what I wanted to say.
I felt I had too many stories, too many options. I became creatively hamstrung. I felt indebted to everyone who shared their story and I was worried how what I wrote would be received by P. and her family, my family, my friends, my editor, my publisher. I wrote from fear. Whatever clarity I possessed at this point in my adventure — and it was genuine and powerful at various points in my journey — somehow got lost in a cloud circumspection and 2nd guessing when it came time to write about it.
But John the Mechanic claimed it was my clarity, my energy, that made him strike up a conversation with me.
He'd already strolled past me and my red and white VW bus before walking into the cyber bar. But something told him to turn around and inquire about what I was doing. It was an hour or 2 before dusk when we started chatting. Before we knew it, we ended up talking until well past midnight. John the Mechanic even offered to let me crash in an empty bedroom at his place. (His roommate was out of town.)
It was almost 3 in the morning when I finally climbed into that empty bed and nodded off. But not before John the Mechanic decided we should bust out the acoustic guitars for a 1-song jam session of Dylan's "Knockin' On Heaven's Door."
"Sometimes, even when the car breaks down, it's that synchronistic time that puts me in town at the same time that other person is in town looking for me."
In the morning, John the Mechanic took me to his favorite diner and bought me breakfast. Then he insisted I follow him to his nearby foreign car garage, where I hung out talking love and relationships with a couple funny mechanics who worked at the place.
Meanwhile, John the Mechanic dove into my engine like Van Gogh dove into a painting. In less than an hour he fixed whatever had been broken, tightened whatever had been loosened and gave VanGo a tune-up — which John the Mechanic insisted on doing for free — that turned my pain-in-the-ass old clunker into a trouble free beast for the next 3 months.
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