Students’ Views

Part I

In previous entries I talked and tracked my failed attempt to start a Students for Obama group on campus. Well, it wasn’t an entirely fruitless venture, I suppose, because in the process I had put myself on some email lists that the Obama for America campaign contacted often. Most of the time they just want money (and I don’t blame them, they aren’t taking money from large corporations or anything), but one day in mid November I receive an email asking if I would like to volunteer in one of the ‘early states’.

I said sure, and a week later I get a call asking me to go to New Hampshire over winter break up until after the primary. And, of course, being the Obama fan I am, I’m on board.

So I wait until the last possible moment to look up the driving directions to NH and my stops and overnight stays along the way. I figured that New Hampshire couldn’t be that far away.

I was wrong.

Austin, TX to Berlin, NH = 1 day 9 hours (straight)

So I resolve that since I don’t need to be in Berlin until the 26th of December, why not visit my aunt, uncle, and cousin in Maryland for a few days? Two days to get to Maryland, with an overnight stay in Knoxville, TN, and then on the 26th I drive the rest of the way to NH.

Part II

Pre-trip over. Time to get going. But before I begin my road trip, I would like to say, because I don’t think I’ve divulged this before in my entries, that I am deeply traditional. Let me clarify what I mean- the few traditions I have, I REALLY stick to. I mean, there’s not buts, ands, ors, or ifs about them. Actually, to further clarify, there’s only one tradition that I think I really have in my life, and that is– Whenever I’m driving and trying to get to a place I’ve never been to before, alone (as in I’m traveling alone), I absolutely MUST get lost. To do otherwise would be like…. like…. me all of a sudden being a vegetarian. 80

So I wake up at around 4ish on a Saturday morning, and I get on the road, I have four customized mix cds in my cd player (it takes eight at a time) and my mp3 player in case I get bored of them (it is over a fifteen hour drive today). Is it legal to listen to an mp3 player while driving? Well, it’d be hilarious if it wasn’t and they still let us drive around with cell phones.

I soon get into a slow, monotonous drift. I sail over the road, 75mph is too slow for me, I’m at home at around eighty, and the world passes by on either side. Sometimes I look over to admire the change in scenery (even though there isn’t much to admire) but mostly I spiral inwards and finally reach a bottom, where I’m afloat on the surface of still water (the well of my mind). Texas, Arkansas (marshes, wetlands, twisted looking trees), then Tennessee.

In short, I zoned out, my brainwaves were in that stage right before real sleep. I was more machine than human, and by the end of the day my beetle and I were best friends in my isolation from the real world.

The last hour before Knoxville, where I was intending to stay, was the hardest. Waking up early gave me an early start but I was sleepy the entire day. Not tired, just sleepy- you know that feeling? It’s your mind saying ‘how could you have denied me fifteen more minutes? After all I do for you? ‘

But to get me past these roughest of times I devised a strategy. Whereas before, for the entire day, I was at least playing at being awake, because I was actually making decisions as I was driving (’should I pass this person in the left lane who dares to go the speed limit?’) , but I realized that if I continued to try and pay attention to the road I risked falling asleep at the wheel. Oh, come on, you know what I’m talking about. It’s like the more you try to grasp at ‘awakeness’ the more it slips away and the more ’sleep’ sneaks up on you unawares, dangerously (if you’re driving, in class it’s just impolite).

I picked a car and followed it. It moved to the right lane I moved to the right lane. It accelerated, I accelerated. It slowed down, I slowed down. It passed a car I passed a car. I basically maintained about five to ten feet at all times, and let everything else go. By simplifying the task of driving to simply one task, that of following this guy in front of me, my mind was able to sink into the water of the well, and my mind was on the cusp but not quite at sleep. Sound scary to you? Well, I did what I had to do, I guess. But it worked, and the road was packed with cars like sardines (it was the weekend before Xmas, after all).

Part III (don’t worry, this is it for this entry)

So I arrive in Knoxville, Tennessee. Without a problem. All day I was able to follow the directions I had taped to the door of the passenger side. I made every exit, merge, and whatever else to make it to my destination. And there I was, on the last street, looking from side to side as I tried to spot my hotel. A Rodeway Inn.

There it is!! :D Go Marcos Go!

But no. I can’t. I’ve already passed the entrance. Just barely. One friggin’ SECOND too late. I’m in shock and don’t ready myself for a left turn at the light where I could come to the front of the hotel. I go straight. In the one hundred yards I’ve gone since I realized I missed the entrance the street has become an access road to a highway. The one I’ve been traveling since Dallas.

I try to exit to do a U-turn. I exit- onto ANOTHER FREAKIN’ HIGHWAY!! I then exit again, and find myself eventually at a Wal-Greens. I ask for directions to I-40E, they say down the street take a right. I do it, but it’s I-640E. They misheard me. I exit, then exit again, and I come to another place. More directions. More lost, more wrong turns. I have no idea where the hell I am now. I’ve traveled miles from the hotel I was soooo close to reaching. I eventually learn that I-640E becomes I-40E. So I get back on it, but lo and behold- it merges with I-40E beyond the exit I need to take. More directions- I find myself in the middle of southside Knoxville. I see a cop talking to a teenage girl from his police car in the middle of an empty street. I pull over in front of him, ask for directions, he looks up the way to the street I need to get to with GPS, shows me the map and all the streets to use, and guess what— I get lost again. I stop at a convenience store and ask, exhaustedly, despairingly, how to get to the street I need. He says it’s two blocks away.

So I finally make it to the Rodeway Inn, after two hours of adventuring (mah daddy always tol’ me if yer gonna do sumthun, do it right- even if it is getting lost I guess)

After I get my key and start unloading I notice something…. a huge puddle of… something leaking from the bottom of my car. I decide to investigate further in the morning.

Morning comes and I’m on my way to Maryland. I pack my car, and look at that stuff that leaked out of my car. Can’t tell what it is. I’m anxious to get started. I decide that it’s probably water, or something for the ac, I dunno, I don’t know anything about cars (I’m a horrible Hispanic male I guess). I get on the road. I drive for about a block and the oil light comes on…..

To make a long story short– I soon pull over on the side of the highway. We call roadside assistance for my insurance and they send a tow truck. I get towed to a Pep Boys. I wait for a bit and I find out my oil pan is cracked. I wait some more (an hour) and I find out that no one has the part I need. Going to have to wait ’till Monday when the dealerships open. I call my dad and he finds the part, mails it to me, overnights it. So I save a day, except FedEx doesn’t deliver Sundays…. So I have to wait until Monday anyway.

I call a cab and rent a room in a Motel 6 for two days. Spend the next 48 hours on a bed watching tv, eating burgers for breakfast and pancakes from IHOP for dinner. Alone. :(

What did I tell you, I’m a traditional guy, I guess. I was as close to not following through with my tradition as I could get, yet there it is, I managed to pull it off again. Only I could screw up so ironically. I mean, it was a split second…….. LESS than a second, and I could’ve swerved into the parking lot of the Rodeway Inn at a decent time and gotten some well-earned sleep.

No, I wander around the streets of Knoxville for two hours, at one time down a steep crappily made street that leveled out too soon, causing me to bump into the ground (just enough to crack the oil pan). One split second that ended up costing me… oh… in the realm of $800.

And did that set the tone for the rest of my trip and the internship in NH? The next entry will tell.