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On the Road with Kevin
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Entry 3
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Leaving The Windy City. Welcome back weary travelers, or readers as the case may be. Just remember to hop out and stretch once in a while if you catch yourself getting drowsy, or sing along to the radio and get some fresh air if your eyelids are getting heavy. There’s also no shame in pulling over to rest for a bit either if you feel it becoming necessary.
As I was entering Indiana, I couldn’t help thinking about some of the diverse intricacies of this trip as well. I knew coming into this that the logistics of just the actual driving would be something I would need to stay on top of and might get slightly difficult at times. I don’t think I was prepared, though, for all the different factors that could possibly come into play in trying to meet people along the way, or some of the constraints and puzzles involved in just being able to catch up face-to-face. Maybe there was a missed phone call here, or an email sent out too late there, and so on and so on.
 I was supposed to meet two other women in the Chicago area as well, but it just didn’t work out for various reasons. I received an email from the first gal a day or two after leaving Chicago saying she had just got a new cell phone, that it hadn’t even been indicating she had any new voice mail messages (of which I’d left a couple), was sorry she had missed me, and was curious to know if I’d be coming back through Chicago at all on the return trip.
I also left a phone message with the second lady after she replied with an email stating she would like to meet, but that it was a pretty busy time for her and she would have to wait and see. I never heard back from her, so I’m assuming it just couldn’t happen from her side for some reason. Either that, or she had inexplicably fallen through a crevasse while climbing K2.
 We..will, we..will ... Rockne. So anyway, Indiana was on my mind now and I was very excited as I neared South Bend because I wanted to go check out the campus at Notre Dame. I had grown up encompassed with the thrills of college football, and was lucky enough to play a little myself, but I have always wanted to see and experience some of the tradition and history on the grounds of the Golden Domers. And as I arrived at night, it sure didn’t disappoint. There stood Touchdown Jesus on the side of the library signaling six points, uncannily lit up against the black sky. Across the way is the reflecting pool, and further beyond that stands the football stadium.
 People always talk about the echoes of Notre Dame, and as I walked around the stadium one could almost hear the stirred up rumblings of legendary names, players, and speeches resonating all over the place. Mr. Reagan the actor, not yet the president, would have smiled as my thoughts turned to winning one for the Gipper. And the grotto was by far one of the quietest and most peaceful places I have ever been to in my entire lifetime. The whole experience of Notre Dame was just a marvelous and welcomed diversion.
 I hit the road again that night trying to make it as far into Ohio as I could manage. I have noticed that I am not getting as tired of the driving on some of the longer hauls as I may have previously thought. It almost seems that a person can get into the mindset of realizing the task at hand is to cover as many miles as possible sometimes, and just slip into a zone of pushing on ahead. It also helped to alleviate fatigue to hunt down a random Buckeye or two from time to time. Really, though, I did find myself playing all sorts of mental games to stay alert and fight off some of the boredom. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve slalomed down the road late at night, carving out a turn after every tenth center stripe mark or so. The animated stars were twinkling crisply and it felt comforting to be in my own little world of the heated vehicle, seemingly safe from outside cares and concerns. I stopped for the night in Fremont, Ohio of all places, about 80 miles west of Cleveland.
I logged on the next morning to check some messages and attempt to loosely plan out parts of the ensuing days. I have always wondered just what IT IS about emails and instant messaging that makes all of us revert back to giddy school kids eagerly anticipating a new arrival in our inbox, but I’m just as guilty of it as anybody. I suppose some of it is the intoxicating feeling of getting that note in gym class from the girl you really liked, and has been so cleverly captured in grownup ways by the characters in the movie, You’ve Got Mail. But there is something terribly enticing about seeing a fresh message in your regular email account and realizing, for just that brief second, that someone has taken the time to write and there is a letter waiting for you over at the GreatBoyfriends.com web site.
 Continuing through Cleveland and PA. I was heading to Ithaca, New York this day to meet Cande Carroll, one of the co-founders of GreatBoyfriends.com, and I was eagerly anticipating making her acquaintance as she seemed to have such a lively and fun personality in our phone conversations. I loaded up some Gipsy Kings in the dash as I passed by Cleveland, blown away by the presence I could physically feel of hard work, sweat, and grit careening from the rooftops and weathered building facades of this determined city.
My elation was noticeable as I crossed the state line into Pennsylvania, as I have continually thought over the years that it seemed like such a fantastic, cool state. The astounding views of the trees and hills from the interstate validated this claim, I knew, and I kept pressing on to the great Empire State.
 I was greeted in New York with some of the most spectacular scenery I had seen on the trip thus far. Colorful leaves, vistas, and idyllic settings sprouted from every direction. I found it very ironic that most people (myself included) who have never been to the state probably picture the whole area more similar in terms to New York City, and tend to forget about the wonders of upstate New York and related landscapes even though we obviously know they exist.
 And here I was, moseying through Norman Rockwell country as I made my way to Ithaca. I was so glad the state doesn’t keep the experience TOO pristine for visitors, though, as the potholes and atrocious, unacceptable conditions of the road were friendly reminders of the beloved New York I had heard so much about.
Tennis, anyone? I met Cande and her husband at their wonderful house on the lake, and we proceeded to head out for some dinner. I truly had an entertaining time getting to know them in the midst of their surroundings, and Cande even insisted on playing some tennis in the morning before she would let me hit the trail again. I had just so happened to bring along my racket because I knew I would want to play as many people along the way as I could. Therefore, she didn’t hear any flimflamming from my end and I readily agreed it was a super idea. Cande is even more spirited in person if that is at all possible, and the three of us did indeed play some tennis the next morning at a park near their house. I was very impressed as they both were pretty good, and I didn’t even have to tell them I was actually left-handed. Just teasing, Cande. Many of you reading this might know about Jan as well from the GreatBoyfriends.com site, and she dropped by after our Wimbledon match to say hello, so I was able to put a face with her playful disposition too.
 The next woman I was going to meet lived in Boston, but I first wanted to throw caution to the wind and drive a little farther north to see my aunt and uncle in Hampton, New Hampshire. It had been pathetically long since we had last seen each other, and I valued so many of the distant memories I had of them, that I was completely stoked and amped (as the kids say) to spend some time with them. I knew it would be totally tight and off the hook. Word.
 Plus, I just had to see what this Live Free or Die state of New Hampshire and the no seatbelt law for adults were really all about. Perhaps the smaller the size of a state, the more of a Napoleon complex it has… I’m just toying with you, New Hampshire.
 It took a little over seven hours to drive from Ithaca to Hampton, and I cut through Massachusetts along the way. It was around this point that I actually began to comprehend I was on the East Coast. I had been to Florida and D.C. before, but never to any of the New England states, and the sense that I was in the birthplace of our nation and much of our early history was an eye-opening occurrence. I think in making a big trip like this and forging through some of the day-to-day driving and other difficulties, I sometimes had a tendency to lose sight of just how cool of a thing it is to drive from one ocean to the other. I wanted to try to set that hook into my brain and make an effort to reel it in more often.
 Can't go much more north and east. I was able to spend some good, quality time with my aunt and uncle, and learned more about the fascinating state of New Hampshire. It really is an interesting state, so sorry about the French ruler comment above. We traversed all 12 miles or so of the coastline and my uncle asked if I wanted to go to Maine at all. I remarked that I wasn’t sure if we had time, but he of course stated that we would be there anyway in three or four minutes. I replied that we just might be able to squeeze that in.
 I just don’t think I had any idea of the close quarters of some of our oldest states out here. We made it all the way up to York, Maine to take a gander at the awe-inspiring Cape Neddick Lighthouse (“Nubble”) on this gorgeous, sunny day before heading back to New Hampshire. And yes, again, it only took a few minutes to get back there.
 My cousin and a Ping-Pong table. That's trouble. I was also able to verbally joust and jostle a great deal with my cousin, Wendy, as I hadn’t seen her in the same time period as my aunt and uncle. It was oddly captivating how well we got along, and I almost felt in some ways I had gained the influence of an older sister I had never had. She was even a ringer in Ping-Pong, and I had a chance to play my uncle as well. I fancy the thought that if you want to get a couple of guys to settle their disputes or just have a raucous time, all you need to do is lock them in a room with a ball, two paddles, and a Ping-Pong table. Obviously, guys are much more open to discussing and talking about things, and it’s easier for us to do, when we’re physically doing something. Ohh, the problems our nations might have resolved throughout time if only our leaders had huddled around a Ping-Pong table once in a while.
It had been a little while since my last meeting with someone from the web site, but that’s just sort of the way things worked out in who I had been corresponding with and the particular states I had driven through to this point. So although the time with my family in New Hampshire was brief, I was very anxious to get back on the road and start heading south for the short drive to meet “Megan” in Boston … Ciao, ciao, one and all.
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