Robots, Phalluses and Tears

Woke up sweaty and got ready for the day in a shipping company parking lot. This means changing underwear when no one is looking and finding a suitable way to hide your hair for the day. Ryan had shaved his head in Alabama but I was still stuck with a greasy mop of what can loosely be classified as hair on my head. We drove through a neighborhood looking for internet and stopped in front of a house that I believe contained something awesome. A steady stream of people kept walking up, meeting some old lady on the porch, and then walking inside the house. The house wasn’t too large so I’m guessing they had a basement where everyone was doing drugs (like an opium den) or it was a gateway to a Narnia-like world.

We hopped on the 95 North towards DC. Just a few hours later we entered our nation’s capitol. One of many protest/parades we would see was happening as we entered town. This diverted our driving plans but we eventually parked downtown and headed for the tourism center. The tourism office is located in the Ronald Reagan building and they wouldn’t let me in because I was carrying a four-inch pocket knife. I told them I promised I wouldn’t stab anyone but they still refused me entry. Ryan went in and got a few maps and we decided to walk down the National Mall. This runs from the Capitol Building to the West Potomac Park and contains most of the things you think about when you imagine DC: the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Reflecting Pool.

At this point I had to pee so bad I considered laying down in the grass and covering my junk with my jacket so I could piss. Instead I found a row of Porta-Poties near the Washington Monument. By the way, this country LOVES George Washington. From what I understand he was an okay president, but damn, everywhere in this country blows their load over anything he touched. I get it, he was the first president and ran the country during some tumultuous years. But guess what? The first Super Bowl had the lowest attendance of any NFL championship game. And George Washington never threw for five TDs in a half. That being said, I hope that when I die they build a giant phallic symbol for me too. The plaque will read, “Jake Vice is best represented by 555 foot tall penis.”

Hand in hand, Ryan and I walked down the National Mall and through the World War II memorial. Besides the trauma associated with war, it must be great to be a WWII vet. Everybody knows you were doing the right thing and all the best war video games are set during the time. Plus Ryan’s grandfather is a WWII vet and a total badass, but more on him later.

We walked pass the Reflecting Pool and up the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. It was cool to stand where so many great people had made so many important speeches. Martin Luther King, Jr. game the “I Have a Dream” speech there and Bob Dylan played not long after. Then I turned around and saw MEGA-LINCOLN. Now I love Lincoln as much as the next guy, but seeing a 19 foot tall statue of a seated Lincoln was hilarious. Fucking huge! It was at this point I decided that instead of have a giant penis as my memorial I wanted a giant robot in my image to walk throughout the backwoods of our country planting trees and saving injured wildlife. Don’t get me wrong, I found the monuments and memorials to be both honoring and though-provoking, but I would like my memorial money to be paid towards a giant robot. The Lincoln robot at Disneyland is a good example. Although life-size and not giant, that robot still has the power to inform and scare small children.

Next stop was the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I have always known I would cry when I saw that list of 58,256 names, including 8 women, who are MIA or were KIA in that stupid, pointless war. I saw an old man touch the name of a fallen friend and burst into tears. His daughter rubbed his back and comforted him as he sobbed in front of hundreds of strangers. I’m not ashamed to say I cried then and I’m not ashamed to cry now. Watch someone tremble with grief, fall to their knees and cry out when they finally find the name of a dead loved one and then tell me that a “preemptive” war is legitimate and a good idea. Then kiss my fucking ass.

Religiously Themed Parks and Storefronts

We left the Great Smokey Mountains National Park and headed east through North Carolina. Exiting the park was the same as entering it. The park is within one day’s drive of half the population of the United States. This means that everyone with a giant shoe or ball of twine will try to get you to stop at their roadside attraction and pay $12.50 to see a clay bust of what Ebenezer Scrooge may have looked like. We passed Santaland, a completely Christmas themed park with a giant reindeer ferris wheel and other rides which I can only image the horror of which they represent. Side note: I didn’t see one “Hanukka Land” on the entire trip. WTF? Maybe Jewish people are smarter. The Cherokee Indians advertised their presence with a Harrah’s Casino and multiple moccasin shops.

We thought we might spend the evening in Winston-Salem, North Carolina but it turned out to be a shit-hole full of run down buildings and businesses and the tourist attractions were closed. We rolled east to Greensboro and spent some time taking in the sights. Ryan and I split up here. He drank in a bar. I walked down the city streets, past the Triad Stage (an important theater in town) and under the railroad tracks down through the south side until I got scared and walked back towards downtown. I saw a bunch of appliances shoved under a tractor trailer and imagined how much money my dad could get for them. I picked up the local alternative weekly and learned about the local DA who was involved in a drug and extortion ring. I read this while eating a delicious streak burger and fries at a diner on Elm Street (Johnny Depp was nowhere to be found). A man, possibly a bum, played electric guitar in an abandoned storefront. His tunes were blue and wonderful. I saw the storefront where the first sit-in of the civil rights movement occurred. Ryan and I met back up and I found a tube of toothpaste next to our car.

We drove through the night to Richland, VA. We slept in a bad part of town where the cars were loud and people kept walking by and looking as us. It was so hot I slept in my underwear and kept opening the door to cool off. We peed on a neighboring building. I began to feel a tinge of homesickness.

Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em

Got the hell out of Knoxville and headed east towards the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. Why doesn’t every national park name themselves “Great”. It’s like “Extra Strength Tylenol”. Who’s going to the “Mediocre Canyon”? Hey kids, do you want to go to the “Okay Mountains National Park”? FUCK NO! I want my national parks majestic, grand, great, stupendous and all around kick ass.

Since this is the most visited national park in the country it had the single largest tourist trap area ever in a ten mile long shit train before the park. Crappy restaurants, crappy arcades, and Dollywood. This was like a bizarro park before the park. On your way to pristine nature? Make sure you stop and race the go-karts first! Side note: a few hundred miles away in Kentucky there is a creationism museum that makes me want to cry.

We stopped in a few arcades and looked for Robotron but they mostly had the type of game where you win tickets to trade in for combs and plastic frogs. Robotron wouldn’t share the same floor space as those “games.” In Robotron you don’t win tickets to trade for crap, you win high scores to trade for self-worth…the Ultimate Prize.

I really wanted Mexican food but apparently they don’t believe in Tex-Mex in Tennessee. We passed THREE Burger Kings before we hit a Taco Bell. I had the steak quesadilla and I regret it to this day.

The Visitor’s Center and main museum at the Great Smokey Mountains National Park is cool because they have a free speech area designated outside of the building. Anyone can, and is encouraged, to spout off about their ill-researched beliefs or favorite Bill Murray movie (Groundhog Day). We drove until we saw a mountain stream and got out of the car to follow it up the mountain for about a half-mile. Beautiful and tiring. Between wheezing breaths I thought about how awesome it was that I was in Tennessee and that I wished I was boning right then. The road to the true summit of the park was closed so we blasted down the other side and into North Carolina. “Closed for the Season” would become a reoccurring theme for the rest of the trip. The southern towns and tourists traps had welcomed us with open arms but the north would prove to be a bit more reserved. We would have to get it drunk and then make out with it for no less than TWENTY MINUTES until we could get a hand up its shirt.

Urban Exploration and Film Advice

A few hours later we rolled into Nashville and drove around until we found the happening spot. We left the car next to a riverfront park and went to explore. Like Austin, Nashville has a street with bar after bar spewing out live music. The difference is that Nashville music is obviously of the more hayseed variety. I had been craving a corn dog for some days and finally got to eat one at the Paradise Park bar. That bad boy was crispy and delicious, just like the fair. This bar was trailer park themed and had a damaged Buick LeSabre in the smoking lounge. We bar hopped and drank while listening to some great country music. There are no bums in the standard sense in Nashville. They all have guitars and sing for money. I saw a very well dressed gentleman with no legs who had a giant three-ring binder of songs he would play flawlessly for anyone with a few bucks. I also saw three obviously drunk bums singing around their one buddy with a guitar. They weren’t dressed as well.

We made our way back to the car and explored the park. Right next to us was a closed colonial fort that offered tours during the day. We climbed the wooden walls and gave ourselves a tour. Not much to see, but the view of from the roof was nice. Reinvigorated we decided to wander the alleys and see what else we could see. We ended up turning a corner and walking into “World Famous Painter’s Alley” packed with bars, strip clubs, and food. Ryan got a ham and cheese sandwich and we kept walking. Eventually we ended up in the alleys behind the main strip. We found a doorway that looked like it led to the second story so Ryan boosted me onto the roof and I hauled him up from the top. After a few more acrobatics we ended up on top of a four-story building overlooking the main drag. We climbed from building to building for awhile, talked about what it would be like to sleep up there or jump off, and took in the sights. We climbed down and looked around for another set of buildings or a bridge to climb, but finding none, we walked back to the car and slept.

We awoke in a smelly, stuffy car full of condensation. Drove across town and ate breakfast at a diner. Delicious and cheap. Next to the diner was Vanderbilt University and across from that was Centennial Park which has a full sized replica of the Parthenon. Fucking weird. Here’s a hypothetical conversation of college kids playing frisbee in front of Nashville’s Parthenon:

DUDE 1: (Executes a sweet backhand toss) Hey bro, I’m glad there’s no Ottoman ammunition dump inside THIS Parthenon that could be ignited by a Venetian bombardment.

DUDE2: Hella dude. (Catches frisbee behind back) I’ve always felt the Ottoman Empire could teach us a lot about relations between the Western and Eastern worlds. I mean, they were the central link between the two cultures for six centuries. (Toss frisbee under right leg)

DUDE 1: Straight up. (Attempts a no look back catch and drops frisbee) Are you going to Brian’s party tonight?

We saw billboards for a modern art exhibit at the Frist Center for Visual Arts and decided to check it out. Admission was free because some lady gave Ryan two free guest passes while I parked the car. He also says they had sex like eight times, but it only took me a few minutes to park. The exhibit was great. It had many different artists from Impressionism through Modern and Abstract art. We saw Van Gogh’s, Picasso’s, Dali’s as well as a lot of other great work from artists I didn’t know. One of the modern exhibits was by an artist who embroidered large ten foot square pieces that often had jewels and severed peacock heads as imagery.

Feeling sufficiently cultured we drove towards Knoxville. We stopped outside of town to see a movie. No Country For Old Men was playing but Ryan wanted to see 10,000 BC. What a pile of shit. It’s the worst movie I’ve seen since The Secret. A whole lot of white people in dreadlocks speaking awkward dialogue with no contractions. Interesting choice that they were historically accurate in the fact that contractions evolved in languages over time but completely threw out science and facts for the rest of the movie. And instead of raptors, they had giant killer ostriches. If your going to throw out history, just put fucking raptors in the movie! To be fair, I think most movies would be better with some type of dinosaur in them. Not necessarily at a leading man, but maybe the comic relief or angry boss. “But Mr. Apatosaur, I can’t work late. My kid has a soccer game.”

We got a room at the Executive Inn on the outskirts of Knoxville. I picked up some Baked Cheese Curls, and some Black & Tan by America’s oldest brewery Yuengling at a Food City. The beer was cheap and great. We showered for the first time in four days and watched the Colbert Report.

WE ARE HOME! and Important Info

Ryan and I have made it home alive.  Well, Ryan is actually more dead inside than ever, even though he IS technically living.  We spread love, explored caves, fought dinosaurs and made the world a better place for rock and roll.  “But wait,” you say, “I thought you were in Alabama?”  Well, this blog has had a bit of a lag time.  Sorry but I’ve been busy f-ing shit up and kicking this country’s ass to write all these humorous anecdotes every night.  But do not fret my friends!  If you actually cared enough to read this far, you will be pleased to know that I will continue to log the adventures of Jake and Ryan.  This will be for my own records and hopefully for your continued enjoyment.  Thanks for reading!

FUTURE BLOG POST TEASERS!!!!!

-Ryan and Jake stay at a gay bed and breakfast in Philadelphia

-British women attack and we get drunk at the oldest bar in NYC

-Ryan acts like a total douche and violates the sacred roadtrip bro-code

-Jake attempts suicide multiple times while driving through the barrens of South Dakota