“Greeneville, Tennessee is the only one with an E on the end,” I report to my colleagues on the tour bus. “Every other one in America spells it ‘Greenville’, without the E.”“Well, that’s pretty classy, isn’t it?” says my costar Jef. “I wonder if they add random vowels to anything else in their town.”
“Ooh, I hope so,” I say, looking out the window at the snow-covered town, hoping for a Texacoe or a Tacoe Belle.
It’s a travel day, meaning we’re just driving for twelve hours before checking into another hotel (a Hiltone, perhaps?). My i-Pod died a few hours ago, and I don’t think I can beat my new high score of 6500 on Brickbreaker, so I’m entertaining myself by looking up historical factoids on my Blackberry about the towns we’re driving through. It’s fun and educational, and since everybody else’s electronics are also in need of a re-charge, they have no choice but to be educated as well.
They’ll thank me later, when they’re smarter.
My fiancé Preppy has expressed concern of late that I never have much good to say about being on tour with the play, and I gotta admit he’s right. Other than the actual experience of doing the play, I’ve really been pushing the whole “glass half-empty” mindset, much to my own frustration. The nomadic spirit I possessed at a younger age was carefully beaten into submission in the last few years of nesting, and now I’m just supposed to pick up and enjoy being rootless again. Preppy encouraged (ordered) me to start finding the good things about being away from home.
My fiancé Preppy has expressed concern of late that I never have much good to say about being on tour with the play, and I gotta admit he’s right. Other than the actual experience of doing the play, I’ve really been pushing the whole “glass half-empty” mindset, much to my own frustration. The nomadic spirit I possessed at a younger age was carefully beaten into submission in the last few years of nesting, and now I’m just supposed to pick up and enjoy being rootless again. Preppy encouraged (ordered) me to start finding the good things about being away from home.
Funny thing is, there really are advantages when you start looking for them.
Case in point: Last night the whole company went to one of those Brazilian restaurants where they give you the little coaster that’s red on one side and green on the other. When you want more meat, you flip it to green. When you can handle no more meat, you flip it to red. I gave those gauchos the green light for an obscene amount of time. As I dug into the better portion of a side of beef being served to me in myriad appealing preparations, it struck me that this restaurant would be my vegetarian fiancé’s notion of Hell.
Case in point: Last night the whole company went to one of those Brazilian restaurants where they give you the little coaster that’s red on one side and green on the other. When you want more meat, you flip it to green. When you can handle no more meat, you flip it to red. I gave those gauchos the green light for an obscene amount of time. As I dug into the better portion of a side of beef being served to me in myriad appealing preparations, it struck me that this restaurant would be my vegetarian fiancé’s notion of Hell.
So there’s a happy little moment right there. I don’t have my man, but I do have a dazzling variety of beef. That’ll do for now.
And now there’s this new history-of-unknown-cities hobby, which means I’ll be coming home with a better understanding of America.
“Greeneville is the former capitol of the state of Franklin,” I announce to no one in particular. I get a lot of furtive glances from the group, but no one takes the bait. “Doesn’t anyone want to know what the state of Franklin was? Gina? Calvin?”
“Oh, fine,” says Gina. “What was the state of Franklin, Topher?”
“I’m glad you asked. In the late 1780’s, a few western counties seceded from North Carolina and formed their own state, but the U.S. government refused to recognize it, and they made them go at it on their own for a while. And when the Indians realized they didn’t have military support, they started attacking Franklin like crazy.”
“And then Franklin became North Carolina again?”
“Nope. The governor borrowed money from Spain to keep it running, but he didn’t read the fine print and accidentally placed it under Spanish rule for a minute. To get out of it, they said they’d come back to the union, but only if they didn’t have to be part of North Carolina. So Franklin got tacked on to Tennessee.”
“Topher,” says Jef. “Will the history lesson end if I let you borrow my i-Pod for a little while?”
“Y’all be nice to me or I am seceding from this bus and declaring my seat a separate state.”
“Hope you got rich friends in Spain for when the Indians attack.”
I retreat to my own research. Poor Franklin. They wanted to venture out on their own, but eventually learned that sometimes it’s best to stick with the group and work your shit out. I can relate. I’m trying to find that nice moment when we all connect, but you can’t force that sort of thing. Friendships and alliances build slowly. One must be patient. I continue my Googling, and then hit upon a new idea.
“Hey Gina!” I say. “I don’t know it it’s your kinda scene, there’s a couple in Wheeling, West Virginia looking for a hot female to spice up their love life. Oh wait, they said no brunettes.”
“What the hell are you looking at?”
“I got tired of historical factoids, so I switched to Craig’s List. I’m checking out the sexual fetishes in towns we drive through.”
“That is twisted, Topher,” says Gina, returning to her book. Then she looks up. “What the hell do they have against brunettes?”
“The other girl is probably brunette,” says Wes, who I thought was asleep. He sits up. “She’s probably really insecure.”
“Then she shouldn’t be doing a threesome,” says our driver. “That’ll mess with her head.”
“Insecure people are always the first ones to agree to threesomes,” says Gina. “And the last ones who should. Let’s find one for Wes! See who’s looking for a skinny guy in Illinois next week!”
And just like that, united by a common, filthy cause, we finally begin to form a more perfect union.
And now there’s this new history-of-unknown-cities hobby, which means I’ll be coming home with a better understanding of America.
“Greeneville is the former capitol of the state of Franklin,” I announce to no one in particular. I get a lot of furtive glances from the group, but no one takes the bait. “Doesn’t anyone want to know what the state of Franklin was? Gina? Calvin?”
“Oh, fine,” says Gina. “What was the state of Franklin, Topher?”
“I’m glad you asked. In the late 1780’s, a few western counties seceded from North Carolina and formed their own state, but the U.S. government refused to recognize it, and they made them go at it on their own for a while. And when the Indians realized they didn’t have military support, they started attacking Franklin like crazy.”
“And then Franklin became North Carolina again?”
“Nope. The governor borrowed money from Spain to keep it running, but he didn’t read the fine print and accidentally placed it under Spanish rule for a minute. To get out of it, they said they’d come back to the union, but only if they didn’t have to be part of North Carolina. So Franklin got tacked on to Tennessee.”
“Topher,” says Jef. “Will the history lesson end if I let you borrow my i-Pod for a little while?”
“Y’all be nice to me or I am seceding from this bus and declaring my seat a separate state.”
“Hope you got rich friends in Spain for when the Indians attack.”
I retreat to my own research. Poor Franklin. They wanted to venture out on their own, but eventually learned that sometimes it’s best to stick with the group and work your shit out. I can relate. I’m trying to find that nice moment when we all connect, but you can’t force that sort of thing. Friendships and alliances build slowly. One must be patient. I continue my Googling, and then hit upon a new idea.
“Hey Gina!” I say. “I don’t know it it’s your kinda scene, there’s a couple in Wheeling, West Virginia looking for a hot female to spice up their love life. Oh wait, they said no brunettes.”
“What the hell are you looking at?”
“I got tired of historical factoids, so I switched to Craig’s List. I’m checking out the sexual fetishes in towns we drive through.”
“That is twisted, Topher,” says Gina, returning to her book. Then she looks up. “What the hell do they have against brunettes?”
“The other girl is probably brunette,” says Wes, who I thought was asleep. He sits up. “She’s probably really insecure.”
“Then she shouldn’t be doing a threesome,” says our driver. “That’ll mess with her head.”
“Insecure people are always the first ones to agree to threesomes,” says Gina. “And the last ones who should. Let’s find one for Wes! See who’s looking for a skinny guy in Illinois next week!”
And just like that, united by a common, filthy cause, we finally begin to form a more perfect union.
