Road Trip!

I haven't written in quite a while, for several reasons: summer's ending and I've had the usual work to do to get ready for another Yale term; summer's ending and I've been enjoying the last couple of weeks; summer's ending and I've not wanted the plethora of bad news in the world to bring me down. Smarter people than I can flesh out that last bit, but, jeez, what misery the news has brought this summer! Why some people remain optimistic is beyond me. (Take THAT, Anne Frank!)

I'm on the last day of a road trip right now. I had to find something fun to lift me from the miasma.

In 1974 I took a month-long road trip; I left Richmond for Charlottesville and The Last One, a huge party thrown by the guys who lived at 1708 JPA (Jefferson Park Avenue), a legendary house that hosted equally legendary parties, each attended by maybe 300 people. The day after, no doubt blurry-eyed and fuzzy-toothed, I headed to Aurora, IL; Detroit; Toronto; Rochester, NY; Montreal; Provincetown, MA, and New York City. It was an incredible rush of old friends, new men, new cities, fulfilling sex, empty sex, beautiful vistas, heartbreak, love, lust and call-of-the-road youthful yearning.

Since then I've done several roller coaster road trips, venturing through Ohio and Pennsylvania, New England and New York, Virginia and Georgia, looking for great rides. But it's been quite a while since I've done any kind of road trip, so this one now, short but far, has been a welcome return to an American tradition.

Notre Dame's Golden Dome and the Basilica with Holy Cross Hall across the lake

I left Friday morning early, heading west to Toledo, OH. Total time in the car: 12 hours 15 minutes. That long partly because one thing that's changed since my last road trip is my bladder. Enough said. Saturday Tom McDonald (TMcD) and I headed to Notre Dame for the 75th anniversary of the dorm I lived in as a freshman, and the ND/Rice game. Driving time: 5 hours back and forth. It was great to be back on campus. There's something about that place that, no matter how much I denounce catholics, god, and conservatism, still rushes my blood and swells my chest. I LOVE the place, what can I tell you? The memories of good times and better friends nearly overwhelmed me. A highlight this trip: a twenty minute visit with Father Don McNeil, second floor rector in BP in 1966, son of Don McNeil of Breakfast Club fame, founder of the Notre Dame Center for Social Concerns and a towering mentor in my late teens.

Yesterday I headed back East, arriving in Rochester, NY, after seven plus hours in the car. If you're counting, that's about 24.5 hours in three days. Today: Rochester to Vermont to Massachusetts and then home. A road trip both short and long.

Last night I had dinner with my remarkable Aunt Sally, 94 years young. She walks with a cane or a walker, but other than that she seems the same to me as she did the last time I saw her, the time before that, and the time before that. We went to a restaurant and then to Abbott's for frozen custard (a must-do in ROC) and on to Wegman's so I could buy some white hots (another must-do). Through it all she was witty and with it, telling family stories, asking questions and acting like any 49 year-old you might meet.

Soon I'll see my Cousin Bill and his family, including his mom, my 92 year-old Aunt Cathy. She and Sally are the last two of that generation and are therefore the last ties to my history. So this is more than just a road trip; this is a life journey and so far, a damn good one.

- posted from the Port Byron Travel Plaza, New York State Thruway