Day 26 - Everything's Orlando

St. Augustine, Florida:

Went to the ice machine to scoop a bucketful of ice...for a very special root beer. I'd been wandering the streets of St. Augustine, appreciating the narrow streets, and impressed at the many historical markers in the city. I'm a huge fan of walking, but the humid weather makes me sweat bullets. Not good to outshine mirrors.

Breaking it down, there's a fort, a lighthouse, the oldest home in America, a super old school house, and rows upon rows of shops. The shops I avoided like two-day old oatmeal. That was the problem, because the town's groomed for tourists...rich ones. Red caterpillar street cars filled with tourists wearing shorts congest the roads and give it a Disneyland feel. Ah well, I'm a dork anyway. Disney owns half of Florida, and most people like that stuff so I shouldn't complain.

My favorite part of today would have to be the alligators I became acquainted with at the St. Augustine Alligator Farm. They were more massive than I’d imagined. I once had a fantasy of wrestling an alligator's maw open, but seeing those 15-foot long creatures up close and personal killed whatever Tarzan joy I was thinking.

My funds are close to depleted so I better get a move on. I'm going to Kennedy Space Center tomorrow and drive straight to Miami. Then one or two more stops and I'll be on to Louisiana. I've been waiting for New Orleans my whole life. I’ll try to take a haunted house tour, and we'll see if I bail out on account of I'm chicken.

Day 25 - Birds everywhere

Alabama:

I nixed the swamp exploration idea I had for Savanna, Georgia. Instead I turned south to tiny Monroeville, Alabama to visit the old courthouse museum with Harper Lee and Truman Capote's chronicles displayed on the walls. The stopover was apropos since 2010 is the 50th anniversary of To Kill a Mockingbird, a book I first enjoyed as a kid.

The art director of the movie version imitated the courthouse brick-for-brick, but I was proud to stand in the actual courtroom where Amasa Coleman Lee, Harper’s father and the basis for the Atticus Finch character, stood up for righteousness despite the opinions of his friends. I gotta say...I'm so privileged for being able to go on this trip. I'm learning so much and appreciating the complete experience.

After Monroeville I set off for Tallahassee, Florida through a downpour. I could only see by following the yellow line on the highway. Tallahassee proved to be a multicultural town. I may sound naïve, but I was shocked to see Asians crossing the streets and international cuisine. I ate at a Japanese restaurant and the friendly waiter said, "You're not from here, are you?" I said nope. I asked him what I usually ask minorities in my travel. "Do you like Tallahassee?" "I love it," he said to my surprise. He said that he came from Korea and lived in San Francisco for a time. It was too expensive and crowded for him, but Florida is laid back. Good for him.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned the bird theme of the trip yet. Today I saw a hawk with an almost four-foot wing span so close to the car that I thought he'd say hello. On the side of the road somewhere in Oklahoma, a falcon stood like a hitchhiker, and vermilion red birds gently hound me from state to state. Also today I turned on the computer, closed my eyes, and clicked blindly on a song. Guess what played…"Blackbird" by the Beatles. Reminds me of the seer who told me that my totem animal is a crow...I don’t know, but the birdsy incidents are turning me into a believer. All I know is that when I see them gliding in the air, my mood brightens.

But enough hocus pocus. Here are a couple other places I went today:

+ The Knott House (home/office of Florida's first African American physician)
+ Tallahassee Old Capitol

Day 24 - Marching

Alabama:

Driving over 60 miles along a narrow stretch of highway hadn't bothered me before - except for the trees, of course, but I'm over that now. I drove down US-80 from Montgomery to Selma - the same route the peace marchers and Martin Luther King walked in protest. At first I didn't notice anything but green. Then I was struck by the darn long distance for a walk, and I imagined blistered and bloody feet from uncomfortable '60s dress shoes. And when they reached Selma, they were beaten senseless.

Non-violence, MLK exhorted, borrowing from his (and my) hero, Ghandi. The event reminded me of the time Gandhi marched to the sea to make salt and show the British that the ocean is free, cannot be taxed, and that India was their country. I almost wished the time would go by faster so I wouldn't have to imagine the folks walking so far.

When I first envisioned my cross-country journey, my mind was ablaze with places I wanted to visit. I overloaded my itinerary, of course. I chose historical, political, kitsch, architectural, natural, etc. This was the first time I actually saw, in my mind's eye, the hardship and sacrifice of the Civil Rights activists to make everyone's future a better one. Shortly after the Selma to Montgomery marches in 1965, Lyndon B. Johnson signed the Voting Rights Bill ensuring voting rights for blacks. What MLK and scores of other supporters pushed for worked and I thank them for their good work. When I see the many museums dedicated to Civil Rights, I don't say, "Again?" I now say, "There should be more."

The beautiful historical markers greeting drivers and passengers on the highways and the Selma gateway sign are impressive. But once you hit the town, you'll get a shock. The town is literally falling apart. Buildings sit half-finished or abandoned. Houses are in a dilapidated condition. Frankly it was like a ghost town. There was even a museum about slavery, and the posted sign was a worn banner. Depressing. You'd think something of such historic value would be preserved for posterity...for our children.

This visit confirms the importance of travel and getting to know places like these. Without the history spilled on those streets, our lives wouldn't be the same. I for one surely wouldn't be driving alone through the American South if it hadn't been for the courage of many before me.

Day 23 - Joe Louis vs. Jefferson Davis

Alabama:

Joe Louis is an important person in history, and not just in the pugilistic backdrop. He rallied the entire country behind him against the bombastic Max Schmeling. Hitler's boy was supposed to show the world how the Aryan race was unbeatable. Well, my mustached unfriend, Joe Louis proved you wrong. He kicked your little Teutonic ass so bad that you had your Nazis pull the plug on the radio.

Louis' life later became steeped with harassment from the government for the money he owed the Feds. Muhammad Ali called him an Uncle Tom...but then again, he called everyone that. I have profound respect for Joe Louis and that was why I drove to a grain of rice town called LaFayette, AL to look for his statue. And so there it was, larger than life with the Brown Bomber poised for a fight. Great sculpture, strong and fierce. Then I read the plaque on the back of the statue.

JOE LOUIS IS A CREDIT TO HIS RACE: THE HUMAN RACE. Jimmy Cannon, Sportswriter

I stopped by the Tuskegee Human Rights and Civil Rights Center since it was on the way to Montgomery where I would be hibernating for the night. It wasn't open as expected as it was the 4th of July. The town was nearly all black which reminded me of what that woman said yesterday...about me being weirded out. To answer her question, I went inside a Taco Bell, used their commode, and left without buying anything. Thanks a lot, lady, for getting it in my head that I stand out.

Despite the fact that today is a holiday, I got to take in some sightseeing.

+ Joe Louis
+ Tuskegee Airmen
+ Piggly Wiggly
+ Hank Williams Memorial
+ Southern Poverty Law Center (Maya Lin designed the fountain)
+ F. Scott Fitzgerald Home
+ Dexter AME Church (MLK)
+ White House of the Confederacy

Two things to discuss. BaddicusFinch suggested that I go to the Hank Williams memorial. I said, "Ew! I don't listen to country." He said, "This was before country before the stuff you hear now. Don't be a snob." He was right. I aim to have a listen when I get back.

The other was the White House of the Confederacy. Creepy, let me tell you, and what a strange landmark to see on the most patriotic day of the year. I saw Jefferson Davis standing there, tall as a god. If the war had gone the other way, I'd be in Canada now.

Day 22 - And then I went to the movies...

Atlanta:

BaddicusFinch and I rather like going to presidential libraries, especially for the squished pennies. At President Carter's Presidential Library, however, not a flat copper was to be found. The museum exhibit consisted of several films, photographs, his Nobel Peace Prize medallions and various other intimate gifts presented to Carter and his wife Rosalynn. After my time at Clinton's library, comparable to boarding the U.S.S. Enterprise but with better CGI, Carter's cozy library pales in glitz and presentation. I have to say, though, out the presidential libraries I've seen (Reagan, Nixon, Kennedy, Clinton), this has the nicest, most genuine feeling of the bunch. The man's four years in office were admittedly less than stellar, but his accomplishments post-presidency exceeded those of other recent presidents. He certainly deserved the Nobel.

I was right there for the opening at 9am, so I finished early. I headed on to Martin Luther King, Jr.'s boyhood neighborhood and took pictures of his house alongside a throng of people. A strikingly beautiful woman of about fifty came up to me and asked, "Don't you feel weird?"

I said in a nice speech, "Yeah. He's a martyr and a great symbol for equality."

"No," she said. "Don't you feel weird that you're the only non-black in the neighborhood?"

I laughed. What a stupid question. "Nope. Didn't cross my mind." Then I understood that I was the only non-black visitor, but coming from L.A., being a minority was no big deal.

Next I drove around downtown taking pictures of buildings, looking for the High Museum of Art by Richard Meier and added on by Renzo Piano. There were tons of buildings I took pictures of but it was so damn hard. No parking means snap and go and my windshield was splat-obscured. When I could park, however, I took my time and lingered around the buildings.

Building overload beset me so I set off to the movies. I chose Karate Kid just because, and I was glad I did. There were about 20 people in the theater and when the action hit the ceiling all 20 of us were hooting and clapping. I though such things only happened in L.A. What a fun day so far.

On my way home, I stopped to replenish my water, bread, and ice supplies. I even found Nutella spread...yum...that will last me a while. Before hopping on the freeway back to my motel, I kept debating whether or not to stop by the Margaret Mitchell House. I didn't want to at first because she longed for the olden days when she was alive...and that Scarlet O'Hara was a greedy, selfish, alcoholic (although I really liked watching the movie when I was I kid). In the end I parked across the street from the museum/home and took a picture. I was going inside but I was afraid someone would scream at me and say, "I don't know nuthin' 'bout birthin' no baby!"

Tomorrow I'm off to Montgomery. Everything will be closed - 4th of July. Great time explore the city. No traffic.

Here's the papz waiting for the dude from Twilight...little did they know, Reese Witherspoon, defensively hiding behind a wig and glasses, had just casually walked right past them...hehehe...

Day 21 - Posteriorly defective and the long drive for peaches

Atlanta:

I just heard on the TV news that a rabid raccoon attacked pets and a boy, and the good people of Atlanta are up in arms. After over eight hours of driving, I am in pain. The past two nights I've been sleeping on my stomach because my butt hurts from sitting so long in the car. I'm finally feeling fully and fiercely fatigued after three weeks on the road. My sister tells me I'd make a fantastic long distance trucker. A couple more weeks and I'll be home, probably to stay in bed for a week.

Speaking of fatigue, I set my alarm today for 6am, but I couldn't get up. Before I knew it, the time was 9:30am. I was supposed to reach Atlanta earlier and avoid the city's infamous traffic. And whaddya know? I arrived spot on to experience a two-highway bumper-to-bumper mess. Did I mention I was still surrounded by trees? I'll shut up and stop complaining now since I had a terrific dinner of bread & Cheez Whiz and my stomach's officially become a hollow cadaverous cave.

Atlanta looked pretty good in my estimation even though the cityscape was a bit hazy. Can't wait to see Richard Meier's architecture tomorrow. I stopped by downtown to dodge traffic. As I parked to call motels for the best price, a homeless guy started rapping my window. He had a stack of stained photocopied pictures of Jesse Jackson, Michael Jackson and what have you. I kept telling him I was on the phone, but he didn't seem to listen. He just kept on rapping. I lowered my window and said, "Look, mister, I'm not interested. I'm calling here," and rolled up the window again. He left.

As I was driving away, I glanced back at the man wearing a bright yellow vest and futzing around with his bicycle. For some odd reason I felt...are you ready for this again...guilty. Maybe he just wanted to show me something. Ah well, I was really too tired to think further on it.