We’re moving. Tonight we’re in Grand Island NE which was probably an important stop on the pioneer trail, but now it’s the junction of two highways, a lot of hotels, and a river.
We started late this morning (me, my bad, didn’t get much done last night and dinked around blogging). But anyway, we’re on the road and think we’ll arrive in Estes Park tomorrow.
It was a nice drive this morning – spring is very fresh and soft, andthere are fruit trees and redbud trees in bloom in the edges of fields. Bright green grass grows up past last year’s brown grass, and the contrast is pretty.
When we stopped for lunch in Newton, IA, there was a kid busing tables. I wondered if it was hard for him when people he went to school with came in, because he looked liked the sort of person people would harass. He was big and lumpy, he had a really bad curve in his spine, and spent the entire day bent over, cleaning up other people’s dirty dishes. I wondered if he had any hope for the future, or beauty in his life. I wondered if they called him the hunchback of Newton, IA and laughed when he bused their tables and knocked things over especially for him to clean up. It’s wrong to judge someone by their appearance, and maybe I’m wrong in assuming that he has a crappy life. But it didn’t look like it could be a wonderful life, either. Who knows? He looked a lot like Alfred Hitchcock, so appearances could be deceiving again.
Tomorrow we start early again (for real this time) and will probably arrive in RMNP/Estes Park by 3pm.
We listened to :NPR almost all the way — Scott Simon had an amazing interview with Bob Edwards; it’s so stupid and such a waste to put him out to pasture. Scott played a few clips, including one where a farmer that listened to Morning Edition while in his huge tractor complained that he couldn’t hear Bob read the news in his normal “warm baritone” because the pitch was the same as his tractor engine. So Bob read the letter on the air and agreed to try something, then there was the sound of inhaling, and suddenly Donald Duck was reading the news in a squeaky alto. I suppose the FCC would get him for something if he tried that now. Apparently, Bob was very popular with the heartland people in the “flyover” country; one lady wrote in, totally irate, and because Bob’s voice booming out of her speakers scared her cows. He remarked that his cattle demographic was very high. Scott also shared the story of the first time he met Bob — Scott was still working at WBEZ and was awaiting Bob’s arrrival to do a special appearance. He was expecting a much older man to go with the avuncular voice; what he got was a 40-ish dude in leather boots and jacket with a touch of silver at the temples who crashed into the room, thundering “WHAT TIME DO THE BARS CLOSE IN THIS DAMN TOWN” in that unforgettable voice. Scott was shaken but managed to blurt out that they closed at 4:00 am. His impression of Edwards was very funny – deep and raw, and David and I cracked up over and over listening to the interview.
I’ve been listening to Bob Edwards since… probably before Morning Edition, which he’s been with just short of 25 years. He was with All Things Considered for a few years before that with Susan Stamberg, and I remember listening to that in the afternoons when I worked at Siegmund’s, the dry cleaners (that was my post-college dead-end job). I know I was listening in 1980, because I remember listening to Winter Olympics coverage from Lake Placid.
Wow, I can’t believe how long he’s been a comforting part of the news, presenting it calmly and clearly. I hope he enjoys whatever he does; apparently he’s got the “senior correspondent” corner of the old presenters’ pasture.
The car we rented is more of a Gibbies Assault Vehicle than anything else, because its a ginormous Chevy Trailblazer. Very smooth ride, though. Makes it a lot easier to put in the long, long miles.
And now, bedtime.