2,300 Miles of Fried Food and Antiques

After three weeks of traveling in the pickup, I’m coming up on the end of my tour of the South. I posted a few pictures at the bottom to recap, but rest assured there are far too many stories to cover in just one post. Alabama flea markets, Florida state parks, Mississippi diners, Austin tacos, two music festivals, Mississippi flea markets, Bourbon Street, alligator gar, Louisiana flea markets, boiled peanuts, a minor fender bender in a brand new truck (my bad), Georgia flea markets (Catherine really has a thing for antiques), and at least two dozen uses of “Yeah we don’t have that in Delaware” to break the ice with strangers.

In order to maintain some form of cheap and reasonable hygiene on the trip, I joined Anytime Fitness before I left Delaware. While it’s 1-year, $40/mo. contract seems like a scam, it’s a necessary expense. Thinking I’d be all set with 1,800 locations in the US, I was quite disappointed to learn that it takes 30 days until you can use another gym. Thus, finding an early morning bathroom and shower is proving more difficult than expected, but with the help of baby wipes and 24-hour Walmarts, I’m making it work. 

Out With a Bang

It’s always tough to plan a good exit. Thankfully, there were really only two groups of friends I needed to see last weekend: Camp people and the New Haven Road Runners. In the end, I kept it simple, invited our office out to O’Toole’s for happy hour, and let the chips fall where they may. With the help of our stellar team captain, Christina Roberto, the New Haven Road Runners had a reservation at BAR for pizza on Saturday. The limited menu of pizza, beer, and salad is all a long-distance running club will ever need (Come to think of it – they should really sponsor us).

As expected, Friday night snowballed into much more than a happy hour. The guest list included a few surprises, including Bob Tedeschi and Scott E. Stevens, which only made the snowball roll faster. True to form, Mike Hund invoked the spirits of Bob Dylan, Jack Kerouac and the Roots as he surprised the crowd with a written poem/rap entitled “The Legend of a Man Named McBride.” To properly honor the Sheriff, I requested that he perform it for the group and humbly asked that I may return the favor. For those that left before 7:30 p.m. — thank you. Hopefully you still think relatively highly of me. For those that stayed — well, I hope you enjoyed the show…