The Magical Mystery Tour: Day 2 - Escape from Deerland

Wednesday morning I awoke not terribly early and Stephenie made me her gourmet specialty breakfast: toast. (To be fair she did bake the bread and the toast was very good.) There was also a fancy Japanese tea involved. Delicious. I briefed Steph on my plans for the next couple of days, intending to return to Raleigh on Thursday evening.

My first planned stop for today was Appomattox Court House. If you don’t know the significance then you obviously didn’t take a history class in a Georgia public school, you’ve never been to the Laser Show at Stone Mountain, and you are clearly not an American. I’ve never really been an avid Civil War studier (I prefer the romance of the Revolutionary War, though at least with the Civil War half the folks were anti-slavery) but on my 2008 road trip I visited Gettysburg and it was truly amazing---the museum and the actual battlefield tour. I’m fairly certain that no other Civil War site will compare to it, but I’ve become a Civil War tourist, evidently. The course from Raleigh to Appomattox is basically a direct line north, though along the way I was pleased to learn that most of the roads were lesser highways rather than interstates, that way I got to see a little more of the countryside. I was happily scooting along when I unexpectedly came upon a Welcome to Virginia sign (I guess I’ve gotten used to the mileage countdown signs you get on interstates) so I naturally pulled over for some photo documentation. As I’m snapping some shots of the lovely Dogwood and Cardinal welcome sign (and regretting not coating my ankles with bug repellant) my phone begins to ring. It’s Evan, wondering what I’m planning for lunch. I apprised him of my location on the state line. Sadly (though logically), he didn’t offer to meet me in Virginia for a ham sandwich or anything. 

With the exception of a GPS glitch that led me down a tiny road that dead-ended into a pile of cross-ties, a guard rail, and a road maintenance sign seriously in need of it’s own maintenance and crossing over State Road 666 (evil!) rural southern Virginia was quite lovely. Lots of pretty farmland and I even got to drive down Thomas Jefferson Highway. I eventually made it to Appomattox Court House, flashed my National Parks Pass for entry, was gently encouraged to drive a little slower by the Ranger at the gate, saw the movie and the museum, and toured the McLean house (where Grant and Lee actually had their sit down.) I must say the most interesting bit was the gift shop. Typically the gift shop at a National Park type place is just a separate floor or section of the visitor’s center. At Appomattox it’s actually located in one of the other small village buildings. It’s chock full of books and other good souvenir sorts of things (a thimble for Maw Maw included). I chatted for a bit with the lady working there and she told me how last weekend they’d had a Civil War Era baseball game reenactment going on. I was actually rather disappointed that I missed it. 

My favorite history lesson from this visit has to do with Ely Parker. Parker was a Seneca Indian and a friend of Ulysses Grant, who also worked on his staff at the time of the surrender. In fact, Parker (who was trained as both an attorney and an engineer) actually drafted the terms of the Confederate surrender. The display in the museum had the following entry: 

At the surrender meeting, seeing that Parker was a Native American, General Lee remarked to Parker, “ I am glad to see one real American here.” Parker later stated,  “I shook his hand and said, We are all Americans.”

Sidebar: The Appomattox visitor’s center/museum (and possibly many other National Parks and Historical Sites) is doing something to raise money that I thought to be very clever. Many parks or museums of any sort that I’ve visited have a donation bin/bucket/box to help them raise money. This one had a largeish, clear, flat box about 2 by 4 feet in size and it was all divided up into smaller boxes labeled for each state, that way you can donate on behalf of your homeland. And you can see through the boxes so you know how much money each state has given. I love the idea of competitive giving. (Since I’m--as always--a girl on a budget I did not deposit any money. Though I made sure that Georgia had more money than South Carolina and Alabama first.)

I next pointed the Civic north, toward Shenandoah National Park. I made one stop at the Rockfish Gap Country Store (with a name like that I had to pay it a visit.) I finally entered the Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park and began seeing some purple mountains majesty along with some of the fluffiest clouds ever. 

The thing that really made an impression on me in Shenandoah were the deer. Not only were they everywhere, but they were rather brash for deer. At home on The Mountain, and pretty much everywhere else I’ve seen deer, they are extremely skittish. They flee at the slightest sound, and if you see them near a road it’s typically because they are running to or from somewhere and there just happens to be a road along the way. The Shenandoah deer are a whole different animal, if you will. These guys would be nibbling grass on the roadside and I’d stop and try to be superfast and take a quick picture, but my speed was unnecessary because they’d just keep munching. It was quite strange. I was even out walking on one of the trails when I saw another deer nibbling on the foliage along a ferny springbed only about 20 feet away from me. I took a pic, but it wasn’t the best quality so I tried for another, and another --- my camera was having some difficulty with the shady areas. I soon became obsessed with getting a good picture of this animal and ended up full on stalking it for at least 20 minutes. I’m still not happy with my final product, but I was impressed that got to within about 8 feet of the deer --- I might have been able to get in a bit closer but I think I’m a little afraid of them, something I’d never realized before. 

I drove through about two thirds of Shenandoah, including going through the Marys Rock Tunnel. (FYI - Tunnels are cool. I mean you’re driving through a mountain!) After grabbing some sunset pictures (not the best sunset I’ve ever seen, I gotta say) I headed out of the park, trying to find dinner and a rooming establishment as close to the West Virginia border that I could get. Darkness had fallen pretty much just after I got out of the park so this next little bit was probably much creepier than it would have been in the daytime --- the deer continued to come. Obviously wildlife don’t respect the park’s boundaries on a map so all the deer inside the park probably spend a fair amount of time outside of the park. It seemed to me that all of them decided to exit stage left that evening. For the first five or so miles at least every 100 feet I’d see a deer or two standing next to the road. When I say “next to the road” I mean about a foot from the edge of the asphalt. When I say “standing” I don’t mean leisurely nibbling on the mountain grass, I mean standing straight up, as if they were sentries, with there dead, laser beam eyes looking straight at me --- into my soul. Bitches were scary.  Not that I was opposed to deer hunting before, but I’m close to thinking it should be mandatory now. Bambi can suck it.

Eventually I escaped from deerland and spotted what looked to be an adorable mountainside restaurant, where I pulled over in the hopes of having a delectable dining experience. My experience was denied me by the waitress walking out of the door as I was trying to walk in --- it seems that they closed at 9. I was disappointed. Instead I sat in my car, got on my phone and tried to locate a town nearby with a motel and a drive-thru. I found some possibilities in nearby Luray, VA and headed thataway. In Luray, I found a sandwich and started calling around for hotel prices. I found one close to the parking lot I was in, called and the price was good but when I asked the guy about internet he said “yes we have it” but then went on a bit of crazy/mean tear about how they have it but sometimes it doesn’t work, and how I better not get mad about that. That was not the best encouragement to stay there. I found an alternative place in a town about 20 minutes away and headed for it. I was speeding along on a dark, curvy, mountain road (which I thoroughly enjoy), happy to have a place to stay for the night and thinking through a travel plan for tomorrow when---Holy shit a bear!!! (those were my actual words to myself, which I feel was warranted given that a not too small black bear had just run across the road in front of me, very nearly being hit by my car.) It’s funny that the deer are all brave and out-and-about while the bears seem to be a tad fraidy-cattish.

I arrived at the New Market, VA Quality Inn, to find the front desk guy outside smoking. He accompanied me toward the door but before we went inside I noticed that there was a giant-ish statue down the sidewalk a bit. “Is that...Johnny Appleseed?” I wondered aloud. “Yes,” he replied, with no explanation at all. Whatever. When he asked if I was a AAA member, I told him no but said he could still give me the discount. He did. Also, I learned from him that for one person, the room with two queen beds is cheaper than the room with one king. Who knew? Plus, they had complementary (or is it complimentary?)packets of craisins on the desk. Excellent.

Scary deer and one pseudo bear attack aside, it was a good day.

The Magical Mystery Tour: Day 1 - The Adam and Eve Thing.

While I share my love of all things Harry Potter with many friends, over the course of the past few movies there has developed a tradition of me trekking up to North Carolina to take in the latest adventures of the Boy Who Lived with the lovely Stephenie and Roxane (Jason made it up once, too.) With the final installment of this epic film series rolling into theaters this July I knew that I’d be taking the Hogwarts Express north again. Fortunately, Steph is always kind enough to provide shelter and entertainment and this time was even willing to allow me to use her and Evan’s apartment as an Echo Base for exploring the region a bit. This little trip would also have the added benefit of helping Steph with some wedding planning given that she and Evan are recently engaged.

It wouldn’t be movie time until Friday, but I decided to head up on the Tuesday before. That way I could join my Raleigh folks at Drinking Liberally which Steph has been singing the praises of for a while. (Katy and I had planned to start going to the Atlanta meeting a while back, but we ended up just going out on our own and talking to each other. Frankly, we’re both so interesting and fabulous that we don’t need any crazy liberals bringing us down.) My plan was to leave around 8 am, but of course that didn’t work out. In addition to the numerous Harry Potter buttons that I had to mail out to get to people in time for the movie (I was also taking a huge bundle to NC with me), I also had to mail a last minute purchase from my Esty shop. (A Dale Murphy painting headed up Dacula way, if you’re interested.) I also needed to pop into the Best Buy to get a new iPod-to-car-stereo-adapter, my last one having not survived Brooke & Carrie’s March to the Sea (the account of that journey will be delayed slightly, but is forthcoming.) Then, of course, there is my genetic predisposition for lateness. I ended up leaving Atlanta around 10am. Realistically, it could have been a lot worse.

The results of my HP obsession and going mad with the power of the button maker.

With only the minor diversions of gassing up (sadly I had to do so in South Carolina) and obtaining a much needed caffeinated beverage (these new McFrappes or whatever you call them are quite tasty for a McDonald’s product --- but it was no Moolatte) it was smooth sailing all the way up to the Raleigh metropolitan area as I listened to the first half of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows audiobook so as to get psyched for our movie watching. I made it to Steph’s shortly after 5, and we immediately headed over to a neighborhood watering hole to drink in a liberal manner. I started the evening with a locally brewed beer called Green Man, which I only selected because of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but it was still good. (The North Carolina barbecue that I had for dinner was not the best, however. What can I say? I was raised on Hudson’s and it’ll be Hudson’s till I die --- with occasional visits to Fox Brothers. I mean, they do have a bar there; a girl can only drink so much sweet tea.)

Conversation was pleasant and lively covering politics, reality television, and swordplay (yep, actual swordplay.) But the most interesting part of my Drinking Liberally experience came from a new visitor to the group. She was nice enough, and an avid conversationalist (read: loud), but there was something a little off. She supports a cigarette tax because smoking is bad but she is opposed to an alcohol tax because if people want to do something bad for them they should be able to. (Closely following this declaration she claimed that her middle name was “Consistency” - no lie.) She believes that being gay is a choice, but I’ll admit that she seemed to turn around on that quickly. And she doesn’t believe in Evolution --- she believes in the “Adam and Eve Thing.” It actually took a while for us to determine if she was really anti-evolution or if she was being sarcastic; there were some awkward moments. (I’m tempted to go on a harangue about how frustrating it is when people act as if you either believe in God or you believe in Evolution, as if those are the only two options. I’ll skip it though.) Anyway, back to new girl, I think she was well received by the DL group, which is nice. And while encountering such opinions out in the world (especially in Georgia) I did find it amusing that Steph brought me to “Drinking Liberally,” where I met an anti-tax, gay-is-a-choice, the-Earth-is-only-6000-years-old kinda person. New girl did have a positive effect on me; she, as an exuberant Phillies fan (I was flipped off multiple times for being a lover of the Braves) has finally cemented me as a hater of the Phillies. As an Atlanta fan I should already hate them, but I’d always resisted. Resistance over! (I mean really, the Philadelphia Phillies? Can you think of a less original name?)

We made our way home. I made a tentative travel plan for the next two days (Virginia and West Virginia) and went to sleep.

Uninteresting Detail: Raleigh, while still rather hot, was soooo much less humid than Atlanta. Though I suppose that’s like telling someone that they’re less insane than Glenn Beck. Anyways, it felt nice up there.

Unburdening my soul...

Those who know me well might say that I have a somewhat casual relationship with the truth. While I don’t think of myself as a dishonest person by any means, I’m not shy about “writing fiction with my mouth” when there’s a need to jazz up a story, avoid an awkward situation, or even just for sport. And while I do think I have some skill, I’m very much of the use-your-power-for-good-not-evil school of thought. I won’t lie in regard to any serious matters, nor do I have any oppressively large or convoluted lies that I have to keep a handle on. Except one. And given that I’ve decided to do this whole blog-my-thoughts thing I’m going to attempt to kick things off with a declaration of honesty; until 4:51 am on August 15, 2011 I had never read To Kill A Mockingbird.

Now, even accounting for the fact that I’m a somewhat avid reader, it’s not really a big deal that I haven’t read any particular book, even one so universally read as this one. (Though the fact that I’m not only from the southland (Georgia not Alabama) and that I’m a lawyer does make me feel like quite the fraud. I’ve always hoped that the significant amount of Matlock episodes that I have absorbed would make up for this.) I’m still uncertain as to what sort of reception I would meet were I to walk into a room full of members of the Georgia Bar and announce my unfamiliarity with Atticus Finch. Putting aside the oddity of making literary confessions at a Continuing Legal Education seminar, I’m fairly certain it would elicit some strange looks, and possibly the revocation of my license to practice law. 

My dishonesty regarding To Kill A Mockingbird stretches back well beyond even my applications to law school, though I’m not entirely sure where it began. At some point it just became a socially accepted given that everyone had read To Kill A Mockingbird or at the very least, seen the movie (I still haven’t done that by the way.) I don’t recall ever actually telling anyone “yes, I’ve read that book” or anything so direct. It was more like nodding along in conversations about it. Making a reference to it here or there. I even discussed a business venture with a former coworker involving us opening a bar in Athens called Tequila Mockingbird (you know you love it) where our signature drink would be the Boo Radley (made up primarily of bourbon --- recipe’s still in the works.) The conversations would go on for a bit, but I’d gradually change the subject --- not too quick though, because that’s a dead giveaway that you’re hiding something. Over the years my secret, unimportant though it was, just grew increasingly overwhelming. I kept thinking that I had to read it, but I didn’t want to leave a “paper trail” so I couldn’t borrow it from anyone, and I didn’t want to buy it or check it out of the library because, of course, I should already own it and who wants to deal with the public shaming that would come when the lady at the Borders straight up asks me if I’ve read it before?

Thankfully, a series of recent events led me to actually run the gauntlet and read this book, releasing me from my cage of lies: my friend Jason pushing me to read The Hunger Games series, my new daily log project, and my soon-to-be cousin Harper’s forthcoming birth. 

Jason and The Hunger Games were kind of the spark for me. I won’t go into too much detail but in the books there are birds called mockingjays which are spawned from mockingbirds, and of course if you hear/read the word “mockingbird” and you’ve been living under an oppressive cloud of literary guilt you think To Kill A Mockingbird.

My log project (as in log book, not log cabin) is a really simple thing, but it seems to have had a profound effect on me. I saw somewhere online where this person had a bunch of index cards in a file, one for each day of the year, and on each card you write one thing that you did that day, but the twist is you cycle back through the cards year after year so eventually you have a card that says “August 15 2011 - Finished reading To Kill A Mockingbird. 2012 - Went to Sweetwater Creek State Park. 2013 - Defended the Earth from alien invaders." And so on. So in addition to just keeping track of your daily goings on, after you get the first year done, you’ll get a little blast from the past each year following. I’ve never been able to keep a journal for more than a few days, but this ‘one thing a day’ deal seemed much more manageable to me so I thought I’d try it, though I’ve gone with a journal instead of index cards. The way this fits in with To Kill A Mockingbird is that keeping track of what you do every day, even the mundane stuff, makes me want to do something at least moderately interesting. It’s been a real boost to my activities (I’m actually cleaning! A little.) And I decided that I should take advantage of my new found go-getterness and read this damn book.

My forthcoming cousin, Harper, is so named by her parents after Harper Lee herself. Also, I just think Harper is a pretty cool little name --- both cute and respectable for when she’s older and dominating in whatever career she so chooses. My Baby Harper related reasons are two fold. For one, I can’t meet this little girl and not have read her pseudo-namesake book --- I’d feel like a fraud all over again. And two, there are the future gifts I plan to bestow on her. I’m not going to drown the kid in Harper Lee related paraphernalia but of course there will be some nods to her (btw, her big brother is Henry David so he gets a bit of Thoreau love.) My current lack of employment/winning lottery ticket coupled with my genuine preference for making gifts means Harper’s likely to be getting some of my handiwork. I’m a fan of a good quote, particularly when rendered in some artsy-crafty way, but I don’t love pulling a blind quote out of context when you’re unfamiliar with the source. (To clarify, I love it when Jon Stewart does it, but that’s a whole different barrel of monkeys.) I needed to read the book so that I’d know what to make for Harper. 

Now, for the actual reading. Going in, I knew I was going to love the book. Yes, it’s a classic, but that doesn’t always result in you liking it. (I mean, have you read Ethan Frome?) Sometimes you just know that you’re going to bond with a book or a movie or even a city before you’ve ever laid eyes on it. I was not disappointed. 

Since everyone else in the world has read To Kill A Mockingbird I’ll skip a review of the story. (Though are there book reviews newly written for old books? I think it’d be a nice touch to slip those in among the stuff coming out today.) I will say that I was consistently charmed by Scout telling the story but her frequently not understanding what was going on. Also, I’m amazed that I hadn’t been spoiler-ed into knowing the major events of the book, the fates of Misters Robinson and Radley in particular. Also, I love the brother-sister dynamics between Scout and Jem. It only fuels my life-long desire for a brother. It also makes me glad that little Harper is going to have her big brother Henry to look out for her and aggravate her to pieces.

PS - Shortly after I finished writing the above I find myself watching Now and Then, a movie I have seen countless times, and I’m realizing now how very like Mockingbird the plot of the movie is. I’m probably going to start seeing it everywhere now.

My now read copy of Mockingbird, complete with post-it notations.

So, the blogging begins.

At the last full-time job I had, my office was in this state most all of the time. My home is essentially the same. The happy chaos that I live in is nothing compared to the inside of my head. I’m hoping that lending voice (or text) to thought will calm the storm a bit —- or at the least make room for more.