The Road Less Travelled
When I was offered the chance to travel to rural Nevada for a shotgun wedding, I didn't hesitate. What writer could resist the chance to participate in an event so deliciously cliche? Mix a little business with pleasure, and it could potentially be both a lucrative and delightful weekend.
In preparation for my travels, I invested in a sweet black ten gallon Stetson. My first cowboy hat, I imagined it made me look mysterious and rugged. In all actuality, I'm quite sure it made me look borderline ridiculous, clashing with my urban attire and attitude. I rented a Toyota Tundra--the Japanese full-size truck that rivals the big three in quality and durability; really a beautiful ride. As one Elkolahoman later declared: "Them japs make some good trucks." I couldn't agree more.
The drive Eastward through rural Nevada is noticeable for its bleak and continuous landscape. Rolling high desert hills alternate between barren valleys; the I-80 corridor punctuated by the odd double-wide outpost. The journey East is a laundry list of desolation's waystations and trucker's havens. Power plants dot the landscape, geothermal, coal and more. Open pit mining is evidenced by the periodic scarring of the land.
For purposes of setting, I listened to Rush Limbaugh's darling program for the duration of my drive. A manic and drug-fueled rant of illogical points, rallying cries to those down-trodden Americans suffering from Barack Obama's reckless Socialist agenda. "Dark days for America," he mourns, lamenting his loss of political capital; waiting impatiently for the tides to turn right wing once again.
The Bachelor Party...
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
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