Take me home, country road

Long drives have been a part of my life as long as I can remember. My Mom was from Pittsburgh PA, and as Ca-Tho-Lic as one can possibly be. For those who aren't sure what that means, it means that my grandparents were down with the Roman Catholic Church's ban on birth control (If I am not mistaken, this is due to the fact that somewhere in the bible there is a blurb about it being a sin to "spill the seed")

The result? 10 children. That's right, my mom has 9 brothers and sisters. The effect this has when your mom moves to NYC to raise you and 7 of her siblings, and 20 of your 26 cousins stay in the Pittsburgh area? 8 hour car rides AT LEAST 2 times a year for 35 years.

As a result, I am well versed in the language of the road. Specifically, the Pennsylvania Turnpike and its various tributaries which lead from Brooklyn, NY.

For those of you who have never driven the Penn Turnpike...it is maybe the most boring of rides in the western hemisphere. As I was told at this past weekend, my thinking about the road could be due to the fact that I have driven the road, by a conservative estimate, 150 times, but feels like more than 1000.

I knew as a kid that we were going to drive out of NYC, probably stop at Midway/Bethel (yes folks, not a lot of creativity in the name of this place, it is midway between Allentown and Harrisburg) and go to the Midway Diner.

What I remember most about the Midway Diner is that it seemed, as a child, to be the place that time forgot. What does that mean, you ask? Well, it means that the wood paneling had a 1950's sheen to it. The bathrooms looked like those installed in public schools during the Roosevelt era. You know, the urinals built into the wall that run to the floor as opposed to today’s wall mounted models. There was vending machine where you could purchase aspirin, gum and condoms. I recall be especially intrigued by the "French Tickler" (which I finally purchased after many years of curiousity and was sorely disappointed) That new fangled inventions such as "paper towels" and "hand soap" were viewed by the management to be something that city folk and apostates used and were eschewed.

What was in their place? Well there was an old towel that was attached to a loop. You would pull down the towel to get a clean 6 inch section. I assumed (and prayed) that the box it was attached to contained some ancient disinfecting device. (note, the device, while similar to the one below, was made of metal which seemed the height of soviet technology and the towel itself, while having the blue lines, was not white as you see. Years of use had helped it achieve a more cream or eggshell color.)




Soft soap was replaced with something resembling Ajax or Comet. You would hit the dispenser and instead of dispensing out a bit of soothing soap, a powdery mess would be expelled into your palm. Imagine the dismay of a young kid when, in an attempt to lather and properly wash, he must first put his hands through a ritual usually reserved for All Clad cookware and Bathtubs.



I stopped washing my hands at midway, unless accompanied by my father to the bathroom, or upon having done number 2. I figured that if I only went pee-pee, my dick wasn't all that dirty and I could always crap at the Jim Thorpe, All American Restaurant in Carlisle.



That's right folks, the next big stop was always Carlisle, where Jim Thorpe (who as a young boy was sent to Carlisle's Indian School) everyone’s favorite Indian Olympian held the keys to my young bowels. There a young man could defecate in peace. Well...sort of. You see, truckers (and this was most definitely a truck stop) tend to drink A LOT of coffee. Coffee, for those of you who have never had the unfortunate experience of visiting a Starbucks bathroom, is a laxative.

One time, I was sitting in one of the two stalls at the All American, and heard a series of powerful, commanding farts emanating from the stall next to me that I was afraid the man in there might be losing some valuable vital organs out of his ass. The capper was that after the farting subsided, I heard an almost inaudible "ow". Had I not been finished, I may have shit my pants laughing.

For years, whenever I am in a bathroom alone, and a friend walks in, I have attempted to recreate this fine moment of my youth by making fart sounds and following them up with an "ow". It almost always elicits a laugh. Truckers are an interesting lot.

The Jim Thorpe was also the place where my ex-wife and I, many years later, were having breakfast and an extremely tall trucker came over and jokingly exclaimed that we reminded him of Mutt&Jeff.(I am six foot five and my Nicole was five foot six) We all laughed and he went on to tell us how his ex wife was five foot nothing. We smiled. He then told us, as his smile faded, that the fucking whore left him when he was in the hospital and he hopes she burns in hell. It was at this point we bid him good day.

Years later, Nicole and I pulled into the parking lot for that same restaurant, in the middle of the night. The sign was there, but the building was gone. A black empty void in its place.

After Carlisle, it was onto the Penn Turnpike. 3 or 4 hours of nothing except rest stops and tunnels. Three tunnels and then we were in the 'Burgh. Taking I376 through Monroeville and getting off at Churchill and making our way to Grandma's house. Then, hopefully, on to see my cousin Steve, Aunt Carol and Uncle Bruce.


These past two weeks, I have been in Pittsburgh twice. I haven't visited so much in recent years. Strange going there now that Grandma and Uncle Bruce are gone. The road was a little more interesting this time, new and untraveled by me. I now drive from the south, not from NYC. I have said goodbye to two people whom I loved and cared about deeply and who had a major impact on my life, just like the road to Pittsburgh.

The path ahead is a new one, the old stops are no longer available, some of the people I used to visit also. I have a new traveling partner, a new point of origin and a new car. Is that the sun I see rising?

(Cue sappy music...I need to take a crap)