Naked Faces, Rage, Ghosts

Three vignettes from my cross country Pandemic Tour of America that stand out:

Front of house staff at the Four Points Sheraton in Elkhart Indiana was also the cook in the kitchen. "We only have chicken baskets or fish baskets."

A young woman at the same hotel walked up to a guy in a car and said something in Spanish and he assaulted her, throwing her to the pavement (I think using the car door) and then he sped off, coming perilously close to running her over, and smashing into another car in the parking lot on his way. Offer of assistance to young woman met with "fuck you, asshole, leave me alone." Did not call law enforcement, because who trusts the law enforcement officers of Elkhart Indiana to do right by a young woman of her probable ethnic background in her predicament? Not I. I don't call law enforcement hardly ever, anymore. This is America. I quickly weighed in my mind, is her worse enemy the abusive fucker in the car or ICE? That's where we find ourselves.

Walmart in Gunnison, Colorado. Quick run inside to get some basic groceries. Most people wearing masks, practicing distancing, even obeying the little arrows on the floor. On the way out, a very large, intimidating man of the caucasoid peniscite variety, not wearing a mask and standing about two feet away from a much smaller male employee, yelling, "Goddamn it, if I can't try them on, and if I can't return them after I buy them, I don't want them." Employee: "But you already bought them and left the store sir. We can't take them as a return." "Oh hell fucking no, you fucking twerp, I'ma kick your goddamned ass!!" "Sir, staff is currently on the phone with law enforcement, I advise you to calm down. Our policy says we cannot take them as a return." "Bring all the police in here! They'll be on my side!!"

I could not get out of there fast enough. Basically, I could not get out of any of the places featuring human beings, anywhere between New York and Arizona, quickly enough. There is a weird, palpable madness across the land. It is always there, but it is much more visible now. Our system seems to have ground people down to suicidal desperation death wish distraction and restless, angry mean ignorance. Trouble's brewing, big time. I have never even considered arming myself before, not when I lived on the upper east side of Manhattan in the early '80's, not when I lived in North Philadelphia, not when I lived near Inglewood in Los Angeles. But watching caucasoid America in its restless, manipulated, poisoned madness, being armed is starting to make real sense, as merely a reasonable precaution. I find that appalling, but reality is a thing.

After my first couple of encounters with foolish America, dumbass people pretending there's no global pandemic underway, I decided to head to back roads and camp the rest of the way. I went through northeastern Colorado, then to Gunnison National Forest, then to Utah, and then a remote area in northern Arizona. Doing it this way added a couple days to my trip, but it brought great peace of mind. 

The main roads down into Phoenix from northern Arizona were blocked due to accidents, the usual nonsense on any holiday. I had forgotten that my plan had me returning to the Valley of the Sun on Memorial Day. The two hour drive took five hours. 

I had thought I would hang out here a few days, maybe even see some people. But too much is completely wide open. No masks, businesses not limiting people, no social distancing. Restaurants are open for dining in. I don't feel safe here, so I am headed out tomorrow. Not sure where I am going, but I will be camping as much as possible as I travel. 

One of the weird things over Memorial Day weekend was how many of the usually deserted or very sparse National Forest camps were completely full. I think this was due to the combination of people having been cooped up for months, and many of the developed campgrounds were closed. It was nightmarish, to see so many huge campers and so on parked in remote wilderness areas. 

Meanwhile, my father had a stroke a couple nights ago and is now bedridden and unresponsive. It may well be that I am headed back east. I definitely need to find some way to have a stable internet connection and continue a job search, but not spend much money. It's a bit of a conundrum thanks to the pandemic. 

The wilds are calling again for now. Amazing isolation, silence, rivers and mountains, night stars (the Milky Way at the zenith at about 4 a.m., still weeks away from summer stars per se). My heart is not particularly well but I'm feeling totally exasperated and done with the human race. Hermit inclinations to the extreme. It's a funny time of year, camping-wise, as cooler spots during the day are very cold overnight, and warmer spots overnight are blazing hot during the day. I know I want to be in the far north country in July.

It's been surreal, having so much alone time after a few solid months of family. And yet, along the road, there's always someone with me, a feeling of conversing with ghosts. 

What are the different parts of missing someone? For sure, one of the parts is to want to show them everything along the way. Look at those mountains. Look at that river. Look at that sky. Look at that canyon. Hey, how funny. How weird. How many stories you'd tell but you'd rather just live them. It's too much to ask, to live them, and it's too much energy to tell them. Sinking therefore deeper and deeper into silence.