We continued to roll through Ohio for the several hours one does that. Eventually, following one of the many “What state are we in?” queries, Number One Son piped up. “You know, this nation is e-mother-effing-normous. And so’s Ohio.” Can’t argue with him there.
I’d also like to see a ride for kids based on the movie “Up.” (“Here, hold this.” “Heyyyyyyyyyy!” “OK, how much for two more?”) There could be another ride called The Mother-in-Law, which drives at a safe speed and makes only sharp right turns when you least expect it, and The First Date, which floats through 16 slow tunnels and gets back just before the park closes at 10pm. (“Will you get lucky on The First Date?” They’d make a fortune!)
The bride’s father came down the aisle gave her hand to the groom, and the pastor began to speak of the wonders of married life. He talked about marrying your best friend, about keeping your relationship new, and about two lives becoming one. He talked about uniting this couple in the light of Jesus. That’s when the shooting started.
The oddest part of seeing all the wind power fields and massive turbines was hearing Rocinante whinnying in the back of my mind, along with the rattle of the Golden Helmet of Mambrino as it clacked against my lance in the back seat.
I mentioned that driving cross country introduces the kids to part of our American heritage, and that’s true, except for Zanesville, OH. There are no redeeming qualities to Zanesville, OH. It’s like Binghamton, NY, except in the Midwest and without the college. I just wanted to make sure that was recorded somewhere, for posterity.