Go!

January 16th, 2008 by Brian | Posted in Blog |

How does a cross-country trek to a new chapter on one’s life start? Why, in rush hour traffic of course. The first twenty-minutes or so were completely indistinguishable from any random school day from the past year. But soon enough, I was past Full Sail and past my commute for the last time. And as I sped down the 408 and past Goldenrod, I put that time behind me (Get it? Behind me? Deal with it, I’m tired). And further down the road, I sped past other places and other times, some years old and others only months.

Further down on the 408, going to Fig and Chris’ for Geekza. Then merging onto I-4, passing International Drive, seeing that one improv group at that shitty pizza place and then playing that same place with Random Acts a couple months later, past where Jungle Jim’s used to be with all those trips out just for burgers, past Universal and Rocky Horror and meeting George Takei and Billy West, past the Convention Center with all the sci-fi conventions that come with it, past Seaworld with Ryan, Gladys, and Leslie, past Disney with Rob and Jane and visiting the family on Sammy’s first trip there, and off towards Lakeland to see Brick with Travis and Christa and further on, toward Tampa to see Aaron and Jamie.

And not too far out from Tampa, the turn to I-75 comes, familiar territory giving way to only once worn. Somewhere on 75, it started raining and didn’t stop for the rest of Florida. Past Ocoee and eventually Gainesville, finally hitting I-10 and reaching for the first time, totally new territory.

Of course, interstates all pretty much look the same.

Nevertheless, progress is progress. And in short order, Tallahassee, Panama City (another bit of personal history, now long past), Pensacola, Mobile, and Biloxi all fell behind me. Into two new states and yet, back into oddly familiar territory. Somebody once said, “Interstates all pretty much look the same,” which is true, and yet it’s surprising how familiar new territory can be; how the Mississippi and Louisiana marshes can match South Jersey’s or Central Florida’s or how signs for casinos along the Gulf Coast can look as if they were plucked straight off the Atlantic City Expressway.

I suppose everything looks the same, is essentially the same, wherever you go, at least in most places. As I write this, I’m sitting on a bed in a hotel room, the same as any other, though maybe a little more run down (there’s no handle on the balcony door), outside New Orleans. Tomorrow I’ll venture into the Big Easy and maybe see something new.