(note: i wrote this last night, but there was no working internet last night (mon, 7/6), so i’m posting it now)

in Kansas City – KCMO, not KCK, a distinction i just learned today, because i’m ignorant. KCMO = Kansas City, Missouri, as opposed to Kansas City, Kansas, which according to our very kind hosts is not the real Kansas City; KSMO is (okay, i’m paraphrasing, but that’s the jist. it’s a decades long rivalry).

left Denver this morning – around 11am, which seems to be DC Sita & my preferred departure time-ish. spent the bulk of the day driving through the long & flat of Kansas, which gets a bad rap. okay, the first time i drove through Kansas, in 1998, it felt excruciatingly long & boring & painful; this time, however (although DC may disagree), i found the landscape quite lovely, even if each hour did seem to pass quite slowly, and i was further intrigued by the proliferation of jesus & anti-abortion billboardage. whoa, Kansas – totally upped the highway billboard ante. before Kansas, i don’t recall noticing a single anti-abortion sign (i’m sure i just missed a few) – not in California, or Nevada, or Utah, or Wyoming, or Colorado – not a one did i notice. i may have noticed a few jesus signs, but nothing extraordinary. but Kansas: shit. suddenly they were everywhere. Kansans – at least the Kansans who can afford to purchase advertising off the I-70 – are really into blaring their messaging across the state. so suddenly, there were many, many large rectangular endorsements for birth and against pregnancy-termination.

there were the standards: “thanks, mom, for choosing life”; “adoption, not abortion”; etc.

but the most captivating by far was a handmade sign, fairly large, which i read as: “Abortion Stops A Beating” – a message which i found both arresting & baffling, and sparked a whole new train of thought in my admittedly highway-benumbed brain: abortion stops a beating? is this message pro-life or pro-choice, politically speaking? i am unsure. hm…mebbe, abortion can stop a beating, because if you have some fucked up lover/husband/parent/someoneinyourlife who doesn’t want you knocked up, an abortion, without said person’s knowledge, will prevent a beating from happening. because you never have to tell them you’re pregnant, you can simply terminate the pregnancy, and hey, beating averted! that’s fucked up, but i’m interested. keep talking.

so i’m pondering the message of this sign, and actually beginning to think it’s quite subversive in its messaging & spin, when DC Sita points out the graphic of the heart to the right of the word “beating.” ohhh. abortion stops a beating heart. okay, i get it, i’m retarded. still, up until that point, i was pretty fucking interested.

there were a fair number of jesus signs, as well – one punnishly successful one, scrawled in huge letters across what i think was a barn, that said in the first line:

“no god, no peace.”

and in the second line of text:

“know god, know peace.”

holy shit; agnostic or no, that’s pretty profound. well done, maximizing on the eccentricities of the english language.  i’m sold. that’s pretty good.

other than that: so far, so good; we passed through Kansas safely into the Missouri side of Kansas City, enjoyed some delicious homemade brisket courtesy of our friend’s sister’s husband & sister, and are now settling into the night. no internet, at present time, but we will upload this later, like tomorrow sometime. “we” being a totally unnecessary use of the royal we. or maybe i just like to feel i have friends with whom i am acting in concert.

okay. i’m beat; driving through Kansas can really wear you out.

i am sipping whiskey out of an opaque blue water bottle–a parting gift from a friend–which has two smiley faces and the words “happiness is a choice” printed on it (twice; in case you’re trying to escape the message, the message cannot be escaped. and your dignity cannot be saved, should you be the owner of said water bottle [no really, friend-who-gave-me-the-bottle, i totally love it, and am not ashamed to carry a bottle with kind of patronizing life lessons blaring from its surface. and water bottles are hella useful. but don't be offended if i eventually decide to sticker over the message part...i still love you. you're not even reading this - why am i offering a long bracketed-within-parenthetical note to you when you never read my rambles section? sigh]).

i am engaged in said activity in the lobby of a very plush lobby of a Sheraton hotel in downtown Denver, where DC Sita and i are spending our third night of The Great Journey East. DC has hooked us up with what is to me a very swank room (in the Preferred Guests floor of the hotel, no less!), but they still charge for wifi in the rooms, even in the rooms of Preferred Guests, so i have settled into the lobby here, where the wifi is free, and it’s BYOW.

we left salt lake city late this morning, and drove through utah, wyoming, and colorado on a very sunny day. that’s right – two state lines crossed. um, just like our first day of driving. but we feel very accomplished, and are very much enjoying our Glimpses of America.

so it felt fitting, amid the big sky, the red rocks, the crazy rock formations, the sweeping vistas (and even an official Point Of Interest, at one point, somewhere in Wyoming), of America, to plug in sita’s ipod and listen to an episode of This American Life. which we did. this episode about reunions. the final chapter of this episode was a piece by Sarah Vowell, which led to a discussion of how there are a number of prominent, famous, & highly talented/skilled women who have a decidedly baby-like way of speaking. i am not hating on Sarah Vowell, or Sarah Silverman, or–augh, who’s that standup comic who has a very cutesy way of speaking? can’t remember. fuck. i am losing all credibility as someone who claims to be involved in standup comedy; eh, i never had much credibility to begin with–i am not hating on them, and DC sita was not hating on them, not in particular. more, remarking on the fact that it is perhaps no coincidence that a number of women whose voices convey a somewhat childlike sensibility (no disrespect, sarah vowell! you are a highly-respected, mature, skilled writer!) have risen to fame; these women, perhaps, are perceived by The Powers That Be (i really don’t know who these powers are, and i don’t think there’s any sort of conscious conspiracy in place, okay; and clearly this is all anecdotal & observational stuffs, anyway, i’m just saying) to be non threatening, which is why it’s okay to highly laud them and have them all over the place. because they seem very sweet and, uh, non-threatening (damn, already said that. so what, i’m saying it again). and therefore, totally okay to put up there on the stage/camera/airwaves/etc. because they aren’t angry-sounded pissed-offed women whose voices convey hostility and (um) strength. not that anger=strength. i’m not saying that! stop putting words in my mouth!

RBI: who are you talking to?

long time since i’ve seen you around.

RBI: yeah. i missed you too.

it’s been so long that no one will even know what RBI stands for.

RBI: that’s okay; fuck ‘em.

come on; that’s not cool. we’re not trying to alienate people, here. don’t we do that enough? like, on a daily basis?

RBI: no. you just wish you alienated people, because that would make you kind of cool. in truth, you’re actually a very normal, approachable, non-threatening person.

no, that’s a good thing. see, you’re totally misreading me. you always do that.

RBI: are you gonna finish this post? people have shit to do. not that anyone’s reading this, anyway.

you’re totally insulting the one person who IS reading this.

RBI: so? your blog, not mine.

okay, i’ll finish the post: so, denver. we got a nice no-cover jazz show, walked along a well-lit promenade with lots of bars and closed stores and a place called Tokyo Joe’s, which was also closed. although we caught a glimpse of a slick looking one-slab-of-marble fountain with chinese characters on it. i TOTALLY wanna go back there.*

anyway. enjoying denver; people walk around here! after 10pm! they sit on park benches engaged in what appears to be earnest conversation! people play instruments, badly, on the street outside of establishments that have closed for the night! there’s a 7-eleven! and other things! oooh, all excitement for denver. but we are leaving tomorrow morning, for Kansas City, and supposedly awesome barbeque, so for now, we must part ways with Denver.

first though, sleep. at some point in the not so distant future.

*i’m totally kidding.

(we’re actually in day 2 of The Journey, but since i didn’t get to a few things last night, i’m going to quickly mention them here; day 2 will be the next post; i’m sure you are all eager anticipation.)

okay, in no particular order, Day 1 of The Journey included various Glimpses of America & other sundry items:

1. Lovelock, CA.

at Lovelock, CA, which is apparently only three and a half hours outside of Oakland, but which felt like a day’s travel outside of Oakland given that we had been sitting in traffic for an unreasonable number of hours between Oakland & Sacramento (so we felt hella accomplished & journeyed by the time we arrived in Lovelock, where we settled for an uninspiring meal at Cowpoke’s Cafe), i overheard a snippet of conversation at a neighboring picnic table:

Woman-1: (pointing at a toddler seated at the head of the table) That kid is like ninety-eight percent white.

Woman-2: No. He’s fifty percent white, twenty-five percent Indian, and twenty-five percent Japanese. Get it right.

(Toddler, in typical blissful toddler ignorance, makes a toddler-like sound & gesture; probably crumples up a napkin & throws it on the floor or something. you know, the kind of useless yet endearing shit that toddlers do.)

Woman-1: Well what kind of Indian? Your’e what, a quarter breed? Look at Wesley’s dumb ass.

(Who is Wesley? Is Wesley the Toddler? We just don’t know.)

point being: there is a strong & vibrant multiracial community out in Lovelock, California, a day’s travel outside of Oakland (if your’e dumb as shit & leave Oakland on the 4th of July weekend).

2. nighttime rainbow.

while driving in Nevada, somewhere after Winnemucca (and shortly after DC Sita & I received a reality check as to how close to Salt Lake City we were [i.e. not close at all]), we started seeing a fairly awesome display of lightning in the sky at what seemed like reasonably far distances – but it went on for quite a while, and was the cause of many “ooh”s and “ah”s and “holy shit”s in our (asofyet) trustworthy jetta. there was also some light drizzle; and the moon was out, so there was some steady illumination going on. at a certain point, i looked to the left (which was, i think, if i can trust my really shitty navigational skills, north) and saw a rainbow. mentioning a rainbow spotting seems a bit unnecessary, and hamfisted, except that this rainbow spotting occurred well after the sun had set, around 11pm, and the sky was dark, except for those aforementioned cracks of lightning & the not-quite-full moon. it was a night-visiony low-contrasty sort of rainbow, and even though it was grayish-colors, set on a grayish sky, it definitely had a luminous quality about it, which was quite haunting and lovely given the context. so: nighttime rainbows, two enthusiastic thumbs up. DC Sita told her person/dude about the nighttime rainbow, and he asked if we were high at the time. fuck that: it was an awesome nighttime rainbow. we couldn’t photograph it, though, so you’ll just have to trust us. or not. i wouldn’t, necessarily.

3. the silver lining of enduring traffic.

sitting in traffic on a holiday makes you feel like you’re part of a mass movement of people all celebrating a holiday together, even if painfully so, and even if you didn’t intend to be part of the holiday.

4. a note on Nevada.

Nevada is a longer state than i realized. also, there are casinos at gas stations.

5. diversity corridor.

on the drive, Sita tells me about how, years ago, shortly after being admitted into her college, she was one of three incoming freshmen who indicated an interest in living in the “Diversity Corridor” at her school, which ended up being a tiny room housing those particular three people. so the Diversity Corridor became more of a Diversity Chamber.

6. lukewarm coffee that is probably ten hours old from a gas station in Elko is still useful when you have several more hours to drive and it’s already fairly late.

enough said.

7. pulled over in Salt Lake.

okay, it was just outside of salt lake city. we were probably ten, fifteen minutes from the hotel. it was 1.50am Mountain Time. we’d been on the road since 11am-ish. the speed limit’s 75 (and here we switch to a present tense narrative voice, to make the story that much more gripping), so i’ve been pretty good about sticking to a respectable yet lawful-enough 80mph throughout Nevada & Utah. so, we’re nearing our destination, at my respectable-yet-lawful-enough 80mph, when we pass a cop car i hadn’t spotted until we’re actually passing it. even though i’m going just 5mph over the speed limit, some buried fearofcops kicks in and i feel like i’ve just blown by him at 100mph or something, so i hit the breaks suddenly upon seeing the car, making the asofyet trusty jetta jolt a bit, which just makes us look like guilty sin-committers. at first we seem to be in the clear, Sita and i convince ourselves we’re fine, we haven’t done anything to merit being pulled over, and we continue on our way. but then, of course, the flashing lights appear in the rear view mirror; we pull over. we’re both a bit nervous, given that we are in an Alien Land, it’s late, and our heads are filled with horror stories of polygamous nondrinking Mormons & their ilk. probably, my palms are sweating. or perspiring. or something of this nature. the cop approaches, ducks his head so he’s level with the passenger side window. he looks like he just walked out of a Disney movie, the, you know, stereotypically wholesome=white kind, pre-diversity initiatives. he’s very upbeat, and friendly, and politely informs us that Utah law prohibits people from driving if the view out the rear window is blocked. (note to the concerned reader, should you actually be out there: rest assured, we made sure before setting off that we had visibility through rear window. but the jolty-suddenbreaking and the fact that we still had a lot of shit piled up in the car – and possibly the fact that the cop was bored out of his mind – provided him with a modified lens through which he viewed our car as being not-in-compliance.) anyway, we were released shortly thereafter, without a fine or anything worse, and arrived at our destination shortly thereafter. the challenge after that was getting a toothbrush & realizing that wifi wasn’t free. curses.

8. yay, glimpses of America.

okay. that’s enough for Day 1 of The Journey. maybe it should be The Great Journey East. yes. let’s make this The Great Journey East. that sounds exotic and shit.

so last night i watched an interview on larry king live with joel & victoria osteen. apparently, though, this interview aired on december 8, 2008, but never you mind -

i was so entertained i kept watching and was late for a tasty pho dinner, which is totally out of character for me.
if you don’t know, joel osteen is a preacher based in houston, and his wife victoria does a fair amount of public god-speaking too. apparently, people pay thousands of dollars a seat to be at one of their public sermons.

i think what impressed me was how utterly unconvincing a person can be in an unscripted interview – yes, shades of palin, so i know it’s nothing new – but this is someone who makes a living speaking. so you’d think he could spin an argument better. even i can come up with a more christianly satisfying answer to the question “is faith all you need?” than “Well, I think you need faith to believe, you know.” uh. i guess. and you need to breathe in order to inhale. plus, you need to make sense in order to communicate clearly.

there’s a choice excerpt of the full transcript below – a highlight is when larry asks joel if he thinks marriage is a civil right, and joel responds: “Yes. I don’t — I’m not — I’m not sure I’m up to speed on it. What do you mean by that?”  it’s also fun when victoria reassures us that the gay people who come through their doors are nice people.

i know it’s too easy to talk shit about the famous celebrity preacher, but they kind of pissed me off while fascinating me at the same time. if you can, watch the interview – joel has a way of constantly smiling while he’s talking, and victoria starts to get a very tense look as the interview continues…
excerpt from full transcript:

KING: OK. In another area, the new issue of “Newsweek” — I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet — but it discusses the Proposition 8 study in California and the defeat of the proposal to allow marriage among gays. And it claims that the bible has many, many, many marriages among gays and that it does not come down on it. How do you feel about it?

J. OSTEEN: Well, the way I feel about it is I’m an…

KING: It’s an interesting article, though.

J. OSTEEN: Sure.

KING: You ought to read it.

J. OSTEEN: I have this…

KING: It’s very — written in depth.

J. OSTEEN: Sure. I’d love to read it. I’m not for gay marriage. Every — in the bible, I see that a marriage is between a male and a female. Now, I don’t know — I haven’t read this new one that you’re talking about. I’m not against anybody. I’m not against gay people or anybody else. But I just think that, you know, that’s — my faith is based off the scripture and that’s what I see in the bible that it should be between (INAUDIBLE).

KING: But this gives you other scripture to think about. I mean, it’s very interesting…

J. OSTEEN: Yes. I’d love to see it.

KING: …the new issue.

J. OSTEEN: I’d love to see it.

KING: Do you think it’s a civil right, though, marriage?

J. OSTEEN: Yes. I don’t — I’m not — I’m not sure I’m up to speed on it. What do you mean by that?

KING: Do people have the right to marry whom they wish to marry? You know, for a time in this country, blacks couldn’t marry whites in the South.

J. OSTEEN: Oh, yes. Yes, oh, I think — absolutely. I think anybody should be able to…

KING: But not gays?

J. OSTEEN: Well, I just don’t think that — you know, I don’t think that’s God’s best. And, no, I don’t think that’s — that’s (INAUDIBLE).

KING: Do you think that gay is a choice?

J. OSTEEN: I think that it is a choice. I do think it’s a choice. I can’t say that I understand it all, but I believe it’s a choice.

KING: Do you minister to gay people?

J. OSTEEN: Absolutely. Anybody that comes through the doors.

KING: Do they come and ask you questions?

J. OSTEEN: I’m sure…

KING: Or do they have difficulty dealing with a theology that runs against them?

J. OSTEEN: No. I think — anybody is welcome to come. They know what I believe. But it doesn’t mean that, you know, that the scripture can’t help them. And, you know, our church is not a place for perfect people. There’s not — you know, I can’t say nobody…

KING: Then I can’t go.

(LAUGHTER)

J. OSTEEN: Well, you know what I mean. So, there’s plenty of people that come in and have difficulties and have issues. And, you know, we probably all have something. But we’re open and, you know, want it to be a place of hope and healing.

KING: How do you feel, Victoria, about the gay question?

V. OSTEEN: Well, you know, I just — I believe marriage should between a man and a woman. And we do have gay people in our church. And then they’re wonderful people. They’re nice people. It’s just that we just don’t believe in that.

holy shit:

from today’s NYT

Medicaid Wants Citizenship Proof for Infant Care

i’m one of the very last people to ever say living newborns are more important than still-living people born thirty or forty or fifty years ago (and they’re not), but holy god, requiring proof of u.s. citizenship before helping out a less-than-a-year-old baby? again, it’s not that it’s NOT appalling for an adult to be denied health care for the same reasons, but i’m no longer surprised by the sick fucks who think claiming a certain nationality should be a prerequisite to receiving treatment. but babies? these sick fucks LOOOOOOVE talking about saving babies, and how it’s not the babies’ fault, and how we should protect the friggin babies. they’re trying to protect fetuses whose consciousnesses haven’t even winked into being (okay, that’s just by some accounts, but let’s leave that for the parenthetical for now), and they do NOT want to protect warm live out-of-the-womb little ones? what’s the Right coming to?

in some ways, though, it’s so appalling that it might send a few more people running off in the opposite direction.

for reference, the baby documentation requirements for receiving health care went into effect in july this year (first i’ve heard of it, but granted, i’m hellllsa ign’int) as part of the Deficit Reduction Act, signed by (surprise surprise) bush in february. although this whitehouse.gov press release says it was signed in 2005.
ahhh. it’s so wonderfully fucked it’s gonna inspire me to write a new collection of dead baby jokes.

because there’s nothing funnier than a dead baby, eh? except mebbe a pile of dead babies. and when those babies are undocumented? priceless, priceless…

can’t wait for that remark to be taken out of context.

RBI: can’t be taken out of context if no one’s reading it but the robots, son.

WAAC: good point.