Go Midwest, Young Man (Further, Boys, Further Along)

It is interesting to note that the perceptions of a people due to the regions in which they reside (especially in America) hold pretty true to one's preconceived notions. The South is full of racist, anti-intellectual knuckledraggers. The west is filthy with free-spirited nutcases. The northeast harbors the largest collection of inconsiderate, egotistical douchebags you can imagine. And the midwest contains the politest bunch of cultureless rubes you'll ever encounter.

But there is always a Target, Wal-Mart, Sam's Club or Costco to even out that disparate playing field into one grand collection of fat, selfish, consuming, feed machines wherever you might be in the lower 48. From coast to coast, sea to shining sea, purple mountain majesties and amber waves of grain - there's always going to be multi-chinned, over-breeding morons in slogan tee-shirts and ill-fitting stretch pants with ugly, screaming broods of children. It's probably not what Jefferson or Franklin planned for our nation but, by Jeebum and golly, we are what we are.

Here's some highlights of day two of Simone and I's journey into the heartland, a seven hour ride that saw us through Indiana, Illinois and ultimately to our destination - Milwaukee, Wisconsin:

Morning DJs all talking about Tiger at the Masters. When did golf and infidelity become so damn fascinating and mutually exclusive? Men have been combining those activities for years. Maybe it's because he's black, or Asian, or whatever the fuck he is. This gives the old school Caucasians from golf's original pedigree some room to judge that which has been indulged in for years.

I had to personally thank Simone and her unorthodox driving tactics for re-introducing me to the “convoy” experience. This broad will lodge herself in between two semis quicker than a rest stop hooker. Ten-four, Good Buddy! Watch out for Smokeys! Where’s Hoyt Axton when you need him? Do you think if you called a highway cop a "bear" nowadays, he'd know what the fuck you were talking about?

Western Ohio: Farms, farms, farms. Flat, flat, flat. Jeeeeesus.

In the words of the immortal R. Dean Taylor (Who?) - Indiana wants me. But I can’t go back there.

150 miles outside Chicago. Might as well be on Mars.

Endless, faceless miles of inconspicuous terrain, bland homes and drably colored autos/trucks. This must be where Jimmy Fallon’s from.

I win the “First to spot a Mennonite/Amish Sweepstakes”. Horse and buggy on a roadside near Angola, Indiana. Looked like he was listening to an iPod. Just sayin'.

More band names: Fuckin’ By The Pond. Patchy Frost. Bridge May Freeze Before Road. Fields of Manure. Half Day Road.

White.People.Everywhere.
 
Hate giving a plug for Dairy Queen but, three words: "Oreo Cheesequake Blizzard". The only thing missing from that delicious sensory experience was a rigorous hand job from the rosy-cheeked, corn-fed teenager who served it to me. His name was Paul, I think.

The roads are much nicer in Indiana. And not as expensive to drive on. Gas is higher though. Must be the shipping.

Did you know Rick Derringer is still touring?!

Simone is going through cheese withdrawal. The numerous dairy farms all around us aren’t helping.

I just realized something. I have not masturbated in over five days. That’s got to be some kind of personal record. Cross country moving can be very distracting. Although most of the jerk-off fodder I've encountered have been well-fed nubiles cloaked in Big 10 sweatshirts.

I cannot convince Simone to take a diversionary jaunt over to South Bend to see Touchdown Jesus. Which leads us to an argument about what is the most famous university in America. She says Harvard. I say Notre Dame. It’s really the only thing Catholics have left to be proud of. Well, you know, except for longevity in the face of continuous misconduct and outright criminality.

By Christ, Chicago was an awful band. Come up with an album name for chrissakes!

By Christ, Chicago traffic is awful.

Come to think of it, Traffic wasn't all that good of a band either.

Since I hate the Packers, domestic beer and sunny optimism, I need to mention Koops' Horseradish Mustard as the singular reason to move to the Badger State so far. Devilishly delicious.

Is it wrong that I'm a little turned on by the disembodied voice of the woman on my GPS? Man, I need to rub one out!

Simone actually made me listen to NPR for an hour (without a dare or a wager being lost). Apparently, conservative leaning weatherpersons and meteoroligists are coming out of the woodwork (21% of them) to debunk climate change findings and global warming claims. Actual scientists are warning this is a silly and defeating trend. While my own verdict on the behavior of humans effecting alterations on the earth's ever-shifting climate is debatable, I'm gonna side with the guys in the white lab coats over Nancy Gribble and the guy who decides whether Rush Limbaugh needs a fucking umbrella on his way out to the limo. Here's a solid tip on the climate change issue: when a selfish bunch of wealthy fucks or those who believe in an all-controlling sky god tell you their uncontrolled behavior doesn't effect you negatively, bet the other fucking way.

Good night from Milwaukee. The new home of the new revolution.