You Can't Go Home Again (Or Can You?): Part One

Each holiday is of such a magnitude that it immediately suggests whether or not one ought to go home to be with family. Perhaps the only one really like that is Christmas. Other holidays are seized upon as excuses which form the cornerstone of a cobbled-together collection of reasons to go home, because by and large we do seem to want to go. I had not made it home in some time, missing opportunities to go for Easter and for Father's Day. The latter is much better known for provoking a spike in collect calls than for driving any rise in travel. Perhaps slightly more likely to make people head out on the road is Independence Day, although they're evidently more likely to go buy a mattress.

I didn't buy a mattress over the weekend. I went home, and as is my wont, I went Greyhound. It's cheap, and entertaining (although I gather that most don't seek entertainment in such areas). Heading out to Arizona, I took a night bus. I have taken to doing this as a rule, but am rethinking it. I always say I'll sleep on the bus, but I tend to sleep very little. I read a great deal, employing the overhead light after checking with my seatmate. I worried nonetheless that it bothered her, but decided that it couldn't be that much a problem considering how she was going through coffee.

The only particular incident of note apart from that was the stop we made at a truck stop convenience store. It was basically a general store, stocking everything from snacks to real food to hunting supplies and dvds. A pa announcement reported that hot showers were available to "professional drivers", which I took to mean truckers. I selected a gallon of water (which costed a dime more than the one liter bottles most favor). It was awkward to carry and drink from on the bus, but I deemed the bargain worth it. Also procured at this time was a turkey and swiss sandwich. I mention the sandwich because I noticed on eating it that the bread slices were mismatched. Each half seemed have one slice of light rye and one of dark.

I arrived at about seven in the morning, and found it necessary to kill some time in the station before being picked up. It was 90 degrees, and I took the opportunity to charge my phone a bit and attempt to discern the apparent impact of local political strife. I could identify no such signs of trouble. My parents came to get me, and the catching-up began. There's a lot of communication that only comes in person, and this was the time for it.

Tomorrow I'll get into what happened during the trip itself, which shall be followed in the thrilling conclusion by the trip home.