The Migration of Souls, Continued

My 'guest blogger', my spouse, Mark, will give full descriptions of the day and of the photos you see above...

What can I say? I am old enough to remember a time pre-AIDS and post Stonewall when the truck-stops across America were the hot spots in most towns. Men came to the truck stops, the truckers were often AC/DC and after a few hundred miles of driving a big rig a wet and willing mouth or butt could be a nice diversion. For the gay men who frequented these places, servicing the traveling public, particularly the truck drivers - became a passion. Granted, a tacky, self-esteem destroying, risky, dangerous, titillating passion - but a passion none-the-less. Almost every gay man stopped in them when traveling the highways of America. If nothing else, you could always cruise and flirt a little and that alone justified the break.

So fast forward into the early 21st Century and my partner Don and I are moving from LA to NYC. I've had a performance car for years and the pity is that with it's marvelous handling and road-worthiness I've been idling it in LA traffic most of the time since it was new in 1998. The car's a BMW 740i and it has a huge V8 and power to spare. The Germans know how to build a car for the road and this was their top-of-the-line that year. These cars were built for the Autobahn before they put a speed limit on them. This car is for the serious driver who wants luxury and performance. I've never had it on the open road before and hence the decision to drive it from LA to NYC.

When we got to Phoenix, Don decided he wanted to take one of our cats (having originally planned to leave both with our daughter in Phoenix for a month while hunting for new digs in Manhattan) and so we've got the two of us, far too much luggage, and one aging cat named Peppermint Melissa, AKA Miss Mint, along with the various accouterments of life for the three of us. "On The Road Again" - our version - is something Willie Nelson never dreamed of, I'm sure!

Yesterday, as we drove from Albuquerque, New Mexico to Oklahoma City, Oklahoma (some six hundred miles) we crossed the Texas Panhandle, put up with having only one one rest area on I-40 across Texas (oh they have Picnic Areas galore - but no bathrooms) until we got near the state line on the eastern side. Then we pulled into a rest stop (the ONLY ONE) and found something that looked like a DECO Version of a modern temple! All the money they saved by not having multiple rest stops was poured into this lavish worshibable edifice in the midst of Fuckin' Nowhere, Texas. The building was long - probably over 200', two stories high, and the public restrooms were luxurious by most standards; inlayed tile floors, complete with the Texas Star inset, marble countertops and vanities, automatic faucets and flushes, spotlessly clean and well kept to a standard that would make Leona Helmsley envious! In TEXAS! My Gawd! I was amazed.

The truckers were friendly. Not overly so. Oh maybe I got a look in my Diesel Jeans that make my crotch look quite ample, but it was only a passing glance. At my age, I find those things flattering and little more. Now by now you probably know that Don and I are both 6' tall. He weighs about 200 and I weight about 180. He's beefier. I'm thinner. But the effect is two big masculine looking guys and we're in very decent shape - having spent the last 18 months working out 3 times weekly with a trainer. We've got muscles in the right place and the V-shape most guys our age can't manage to maintain. Not to brag - because it's the first time in my life I've looked this good - but the overall effect is pretty damned hot for us both. Put us together and we turn heads! He's dark, I'm blonde. People look and take notice. Often times people will ask if I'm an actor or a newcaster. Yeah, that kind of LA look for a man. Good haircut, sense of style, the right bling (real, but subtle if expensive), the right shoes, a matching belt. The idea is it looks like we threw it on - but it all works and could well have come out the pages of Vogue Homme for fall. Even people who have no idea of what they're looking at seem to know it's not as easy as it looks. The funny thing is women often flirt with us openly. (Oh well! Take it when you get it!) It's a nice ego stroke and the payoff for that year and a half of hard work at the gym!

Back to our Texas Temple of Roadside Rest Areas. I came out of the head to see Don was by the car on the passengers side and on the driver's side there were three aging Hell's Angeles decked out in full leather and the requisite Harley's. Those guys had to be in their 50's if they were a day - but they still had the genuine Harley Biker look and were probably somewhat unpredictable in their behavior. Translation? Don't mess with them. Say good morning, get in the car, and go about your fuckin' business. Now. Not the people I'd have started a conversation with... So I got in the car, getting a weird glance from one of the bikers (Was it a flirty glance? I'm not sure. But I wasn't going to stick around to find out.) I slid into the car, motioned for Don to get in and we hit I-40 moving to the boarder of Texas and Oklahoma.

We passed a town called "Groom" Texas and a sign exhorted us to stop and see "The Largest Cross in the Western Hemisphere". Since it was indeed large, we could view it from the highway. The Cross had to be 100' high or better and since it was near sunset, the lighting was ethereal to say the least. The sign assured us that we could have a "Spiritual Experience" if we'd only get off the Interstate and chuck a $3.00 per person donation to allow us to get close enough to view the cross and have an experience that apparently radiates from the cross (but only covers a short distance) and requires the aforementioned $3.00 per head donation to allow one close enough to get the full benefit of this radiating spirituality. We opted to have a diminished spiritual experience, save our six dollars, and view it from the freeway. Don got a couple of shots of it that were dramatic and we were on our way. I wonder if they would have allowed the cat in for free or if she would have been charged for her Spiritual Experience, too?

A few miles later, the whole texture of I40 changed. The roads got better. No more concrete patched and bumpy. Nice smooth asphalt in great condition with wide boarders on either side, sprinklers watering it, and the grass was mowed to a fair-the-well, both on the sides and the median. We then realized that we had crossed the boarder with no fanfare and were now in Oklahoma. Oklahoma! My God! The Heartland of America! And a "Red State" of course. We made it to the Holiday Inn Express in Oki City, Oki by about 9PM local time. The people are mid-western, the economy is shit, you almost never see a German car, and the cowboys do indeed wear Wranglers, belted tightly (showing off their nicely muscled asses!) and big 10 gallon sized hats and boots. Looks like a gay porn film casting director's dream of heaven!

After a night at the Holiday Inn - we managed to roust ourselves in time for the free buffet breakfast (the coffee is barely drinkable - don't they have a friggin' Starbucks here???) and packed up/showered, and we are on the road to St Louis today! It's been an uneventful trip - thank God - and the car has behaved wonderfully - as has the cat - that I had deep concerns about her ability to travel well. No sexual adventures - but lots of memories - and a sense of Don and I being able to handle this place if we had to, cause we got muscles! All these straight, gay hating Republicans scare the hell out of us (of course) but we have managed thus far to either avoid them or roll with the punches.

I suspect - but do not know - that because of our size and looking like men - we aren't taken for "gay" immediately. Oh, if they talk to us for five minutes we are obviously a couple (hell, it's been that way for 18 years!) but just walking down the street or going into a Denny's (UGH!) these rednecks don't usually figure out they're in the presence of "fags". There is some fear on our parts about what would happen if they were to know. Probably nothing worth the worry, but then who want's to find out? I talked to Don about buying a gun to have with us - and decided against doing so. Now I sort of wished we had. But then again, I haven't needed a gun in 30 years - what would make me think it would be helpful now?? Just fear, I suppose. What I'm afraid of? The heteros in the mid-west? Yeah, probably. I'm glad to be heading out of here and wonder what St Louis will be like. I've never been there other than to make a connecting flight at the airport when TWA was a real airline and St Louis was one of their hubs. Long time ago.

Time to pack the car, show Donnie this Tome, and get to the road. Another day, another 500 miles!

Mark