Once every few years the planets align themselves, the barometric pressure is correct, gas prizes have stabilized and I have had just enough cocktails to agree to take a road trip.
My Sister convinced me that it would be a good idea this year to drive to Texas for Thanksgiving to see the family and pick up my nephew.
I am still seeing my support group from the last time we set out on the road, like a Black, Sister, Brother version of Thelma and Louise.
Let me share that I do not like long trips for the following reasons: I have a phobia of bridges, heights, public restrooms, big trucks and states with poor radio reception.
I also forgot how crazy it is traveling with women. I am a gay man but managed to condense my bags to a few essentials including, vertical striped apparel to make me look slimmer in case I met anyone from High School.
My Sister on the other hand emerges with her Titanic cruise ship coordinated luggage each weighing approximately 100 pounds. If we were taking a small plane we would be grounded due to weight restrictions. She actually had one bag for just her wigs and shoes. There was also a separate bag for make-up and other essentials. Luckily the feminine product packages have evolved so there was no need for cables and the luggage rack, see early post Real Men Buy Pink.
We hit the road early in the morning and drove endlessly, only stopping to refuel, stretch our legs, minds and monitor "Dexter" like characters at the rest areas.
We ironically decide, as two Black travelers, to eat at, of all the places Cracker Barrel. Although driving through Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana there are so many other international stops of high dining options.
My favorites include, Alabama's, " Uncle Buddy's Kitchen and Chapel" where apparently on Wednesday's you eat for free if you marry your third cousin.
Then who could resist "Earl's Barbecue, Bait and Tackle Shop" in Mississippi.
But if you really wanted exotic cuisine you had to sample "Voo Doo Rhonda's Cajun Hut" which boasted an authentic shrunken head with each side of red beans and rice.
My Sister lamented that she could not remember where we would eat when we traveled as kids. We grew up in the South and although it was post civil rights our families would never stop at restaurants but chose to wake up very early, fry chicken and make us eat in the car, at rest stops or on the side of the road as if we were part of some kind of Post Modern Underground Rail Road Car pool.
Finally after an exhausting twelves hours on the road, and me being appropriately medicated to deal with the trip, we finally reach Texas where you are barely across the border and their is a sign saying El Paso 847 miles. I am not sure if they are trying to traumatize travelers or the state is just a Size Queen.
Stay tuned for further holiday reports. Share and post your holiday memories or horror stories. And as always support by subscribing and posting comments.