My friend Farrell is moving from Washington, DC to California. Currently, he’s somewhere close to nowhere – in New Mexico, just east of Gallup. There’s a lot of nothing in New Mexico. Some of it is beautiful nothing, but it’s nothing nonetheless.
Farrell and his wife, Vered, are driving cross country. Maybe I’m getting too old. I don’t hear of friends doing that anymore, as I did when I was in my twenties.
They left DC and headed to Memphis. From there it was off to Amarillo. Who knows how far they’ll get tonight before stopping and resting.
Here’s what makes this so interesting for me. We’ve been talking for much of the trip. Sometimes it’s on the phone. Mostly it’s on Instant Messenger.
Farrell has a Blackberry (aka – Crackberry) permanently affixed to his hip. So far, reception’s been good.
Between the Blackberry and satellite radio in the car, he has all the advantages of travel without the really awful parts – horrendous local radio and no communication.
He’s probably near one of the few places I was ever stopped for speeding. It was on I-40 in Quay County, NM. I was moving from Phoenix to Philadelphia, so 1975 sounds right.
I was stopped for doing 65 mph in a 55 mph zone. Of course, before the ‘gas crisis’ of the early 70s it was a 75 mph zone! Farrell tells me it’s a 75 mph zone again.
This October, Helaine and I will also be driving through New Mexico, Arizona and Nevada. My chats with Farrell have further gotten me in the mood.
I’m hoping there’s a statute of limitations, because I’m not sure I paid that speeding ticket.