After our outdoor adventure though the Ozarks and the mountains of Missouri, it was high time the road trip got back in touch with civilisation. After we strolled into downtown Eminence for one last look at this bustling metropolis, we prepared for our journey north with some breakfast with the locals. Actually we had breakfast while the bemused locals watched us eat.
After tumbling out of the Ozarks we moved though central Missouri at a cracking pace as we were keen to get to our next destination - mainly to avoid a lynching from the locals as we passed through Bible belt–USA. Everybody say Amen!
However we did happen to have a brush with fame when we passed though the township of Cuba, MI. The Doctor demonstrated his keen eye by spotting the local Democrat campaign office which was housed in the local Electrical Trade Union headquarters. But even before we walked in the front door, we managed to drop our beer-filled esky out of the back of the truck of justice. During the grizzly cleanup operation, some of the Road trip members managed to get beer on their clothes, which resulted in us greeting the local campaign team smelling precisely like a bunch of Aussie piss-wrecks.
Upon meeting the local Democrat operation it became abundantly clear that the small town operation in Missouri is no different to a typical local ALP branch meeting in Australia. There was the middle aged male candidate running simply to have his name on the ballot, the middle aged baby booming lefty women whose politics were lefter than the party and some boring middle aged man who simply just liked to talk endlessly just so he could hear the sound of his own voice. Then there was the young Democrat campaign organiser who was praying that they would just all shut up and make some campaign calls. But they weren’t making calls, because they were here to meet a celebrity from another generation. Singer-songwriter Carole King was touring the Democrat campaigns across the Red states to lend support for the lonely democrat volunteers. After some inspirational words and a quick chorus of “You’ve got a friend”. Cue the Doctor – who managed to slip in the queue ahead of some well and truly overstimulated middle aged women to ceremoniously present Ms King with a Certificate of Appreciation from the Aussies for Obama (see pic). To say she was confused was an understatement.
After Cuba we continued onto the interstate and passed though St Louis and the giant arch, the gateway to the west. Every global city has an icon. St Louis has the arch, Melbourne could do with a giant M. But more on that later. We had to get to Illinois and the state capital Springfield for a quiet night.
Quiet night my arse. We pulled off the interstate just outside the home of Abe Lincoln to check into a freeway chain hotel. We freshened up and headed across the road for dinner and beers at a famous American establishment named after owls. One beer led to six and before we knew, we were having a hoot of time. Every election is a fork in the road . We met ours that night. Do we call it a night and retire early to rest up for our big drive to Chicago, or do we hit the town to see what Springfield had to offer? Rest assured we hit the town very very hard.
After tumbling out of the Ozarks we moved though central Missouri at a cracking pace as we were keen to get to our next destination - mainly to avoid a lynching from the locals as we passed through Bible belt–USA. Everybody say Amen!
However we did happen to have a brush with fame when we passed though the township of Cuba, MI. The Doctor demonstrated his keen eye by spotting the local Democrat campaign office which was housed in the local Electrical Trade Union headquarters. But even before we walked in the front door, we managed to drop our beer-filled esky out of the back of the truck of justice. During the grizzly cleanup operation, some of the Road trip members managed to get beer on their clothes, which resulted in us greeting the local campaign team smelling precisely like a bunch of Aussie piss-wrecks.
Upon meeting the local Democrat operation it became abundantly clear that the small town operation in Missouri is no different to a typical local ALP branch meeting in Australia. There was the middle aged male candidate running simply to have his name on the ballot, the middle aged baby booming lefty women whose politics were lefter than the party and some boring middle aged man who simply just liked to talk endlessly just so he could hear the sound of his own voice. Then there was the young Democrat campaign organiser who was praying that they would just all shut up and make some campaign calls. But they weren’t making calls, because they were here to meet a celebrity from another generation. Singer-songwriter Carole King was touring the Democrat campaigns across the Red states to lend support for the lonely democrat volunteers. After some inspirational words and a quick chorus of “You’ve got a friend”. Cue the Doctor – who managed to slip in the queue ahead of some well and truly overstimulated middle aged women to ceremoniously present Ms King with a Certificate of Appreciation from the Aussies for Obama (see pic). To say she was confused was an understatement.
After Cuba we continued onto the interstate and passed though St Louis and the giant arch, the gateway to the west. Every global city has an icon. St Louis has the arch, Melbourne could do with a giant M. But more on that later. We had to get to Illinois and the state capital Springfield for a quiet night.
Quiet night my arse. We pulled off the interstate just outside the home of Abe Lincoln to check into a freeway chain hotel. We freshened up and headed across the road for dinner and beers at a famous American establishment named after owls. One beer led to six and before we knew, we were having a hoot of time. Every election is a fork in the road . We met ours that night. Do we call it a night and retire early to rest up for our big drive to Chicago, or do we hit the town to see what Springfield had to offer? Rest assured we hit the town very very hard.
Two rules have been established by the roadtrippers so far. 1. Always sit at the bar. 2 Always befriend the bouncer. By the end of the night we had a republican barmaid shouting us shots of whisky and an Irish-American democrat bouncer now fully committed to the road trip he could believe in. Hi Murph (this page is now his homepage on his blackberry). Once the Irish bar closed, it was onto another. These forks in the road are gonna be problematic.
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