BUT, as I write this, I'm sitting on State Route 55 because I was two cars away from being in the biggest traffic accident I've ever witnessed. About a mile back I saw what looked like an undercover Crown Victoria in my rear-view mirror. So I slowed down. And then I saw three cars collide and a semi drive off the road in a puff of brake smoke.
The cars were destroyed. I'm two cars back from the whole thing and cars from behind me start driving around me through the grass to get around it. I thought about doing it, but I've always been the guy that gets busted for doing the thing that three other kids did before me. I'm always the guy that parks amongst 10 other cars in what looks like a parking zone and the only one to find his car towed. They wrecked an hour ago, I can't imagine how long the line of traffic is behind me. AN HOURS WORTH, damn. So I figured while I have the time I'd get some blogging done from the front seat of my SUV.
But what am I doing in an SUV?
Good question. About three days ago I get a call from one of Mike Anderson's co-horts in the Events field about being part of a promotion in. If you've seen one of Schadenfreude's Improv Festival shows then you've probably heard the live music of one of Mike Anderson's bands. Anyway, good pay, hotel, food. Yay! I got work. Of course the opportunity could've waited two days so I wouldn't be an absentee father during the last two days of writing Alderman. That's right, the last two days. We'll get back to that because I just peed in a thermos and traffic is starting to move.
That's right I peed in a thermos. I'm the very third car in front of a full hour of bumper to bumper backed up traffic behind me, how stupid would I be to get off on the first exit and then re-enter on the ass end of this mess, besides I gotta make good time and get to St. Louis.
But why am I driving an SUV to St. Louis?
Why, to pick up the XXXXX vans so I can drive them to Springfield, silly. I'm working for the XXXXXXXXX during the Illinois State Fair.
An Artistic Moment
After caravanning two bigass trucks and vans to Springfield I just checked into my hotel and life became art for a moment.
I passed shitty hotel after shitty hotel gathered in the shadow of industrial smokestacks and various places to ingest coffee and battered treats. There's a stripclub three blocks away, a Bob Evans three blocks in the other direction, both still open, my white trash Vegas. Hotels are the only place I instantly turn the TV on when I enter the room. My bearings still ungathered, a preacher immediately tells me the world is ending.
He states that The Chinese are developing a computer ten times faster than the fastest one now. "You can bet the anti-christ will use that to watch all of us." he says. I'm told the world is ending the moment I step into a dimension void of familiarity with my former world. Lollapalooza, Schadenfreude, Edgewater, Roommate Steve, all theory at this nano-second. My world exists entirely in the frame of the picture window of my surreal hotel room. A painting of decay lit by sodium streetlamp. Or perhaps I'm the painting, listening to how the world is ending while I wonder is what the hell is dancing at Showgirls in Springfield at 1am on a Tuesday?
Tune in tomorrow, Otisburg is on the road for 9 days! I'm like Conan, or Leno, but in Springfield.
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