Monday, September 06, 2004
The Weekend that Was
Sometimes my life is so glamorous I can’t stand it. While the rest of you peons spent your Labor Day weekends barbequing, playing ultimate frisbee with your cousin Veronica, and drunk driving motorboats, I experienced true luxury (as in my mom bought me a new comforter and repainted my bathroom) in one of the resort capitals of the world (so long as the world is defined to include only Quincy, Illinois). And it only took a five hour drive in a non-air-conditioned, radioless, hubcapless 1995 Dodge Neon for me to do it.
Shall I point out some of the highlights of my agenda? How about shouting over Wolf Blitzer on CNN while lunching on corned beef sandwiches and bacon crackers with my 93-year-old grandmother? How about playing lawn badminton with my parents? How about going to Wal-Mart? Yes, there was something for everyone, or at least everyone who enjoys the elderly and the thrill of a good value. Everyone else I really just pity.
In all honesty, however, I have to admit that it was really good to get away from the city, if only for a few days. Not that I don’t love homicidal cab drivers and scary crazy people who masturbate on the train, but I find that trees and cornfields have their charms as well. (And those gun lobby propaganda signs along the highways? So hilarious. If only there were Pulitzer prizes for signage.) I like paying $1.50 for a beer and being able to drive to the Walgreens without selling my kidneys in exchange for a parking spot. Country music makes me laugh. And after three months without seeing my parents, I think they’ve really grown up a lot—there was hardly any hair pulling or food throwing this time around, and I didn’t even have to put in a Disney video to calm them down. I mean, they say you can’t go home again, but I’m pretty sure they really just mean that you probably shouldn’t, because I swear I was just there, and I escaped with only minor badminton injuries.
Sometimes my life is so glamorous I can’t stand it. While the rest of you peons spent your Labor Day weekends barbequing, playing ultimate frisbee with your cousin Veronica, and drunk driving motorboats, I experienced true luxury (as in my mom bought me a new comforter and repainted my bathroom) in one of the resort capitals of the world (so long as the world is defined to include only Quincy, Illinois). And it only took a five hour drive in a non-air-conditioned, radioless, hubcapless 1995 Dodge Neon for me to do it.
Shall I point out some of the highlights of my agenda? How about shouting over Wolf Blitzer on CNN while lunching on corned beef sandwiches and bacon crackers with my 93-year-old grandmother? How about playing lawn badminton with my parents? How about going to Wal-Mart? Yes, there was something for everyone, or at least everyone who enjoys the elderly and the thrill of a good value. Everyone else I really just pity.
In all honesty, however, I have to admit that it was really good to get away from the city, if only for a few days. Not that I don’t love homicidal cab drivers and scary crazy people who masturbate on the train, but I find that trees and cornfields have their charms as well. (And those gun lobby propaganda signs along the highways? So hilarious. If only there were Pulitzer prizes for signage.) I like paying $1.50 for a beer and being able to drive to the Walgreens without selling my kidneys in exchange for a parking spot. Country music makes me laugh. And after three months without seeing my parents, I think they’ve really grown up a lot—there was hardly any hair pulling or food throwing this time around, and I didn’t even have to put in a Disney video to calm them down. I mean, they say you can’t go home again, but I’m pretty sure they really just mean that you probably shouldn’t, because I swear I was just there, and I escaped with only minor badminton injuries.
