5/5/00
ROAD TRIP - DAY 4
4 PAGES

Day 4 began at around 9:00am. The sun woke me up outside a truckstop somewhere in the middle of Virginia. Hard to believe just two days ago I was in the middle of the high desert of New Mexico. So different here. I went into the truck stop and took a shower. The people there were a little rude to me for some reason which right off the bat gave me a bad impression of Virginians. Maybe they thought I was just some punk in my fraternity letters. I ate breakfast. Good old eggs and grits on toast, and the I was on my way. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day. I figured that if I kept moving at a good pace, I'd make it into Boston at around 8pm. Still with plenty of time to party with my friends.

I stopped for a little bit somewhere in Virginia soon after I'd gotten under way to see if I could get somebody to take a look at my car and figure out why the service engine light was on. Unfortunately, I was in such a rural area, that I couldn't find any freakin' garages that were open or at least that were answering their phones. So I just hoped that it would keep until I made it to Maine and then have somebody look at it. So after a few delays, I was off again.

One thing I love about driving cross-country is getting to hear the different radio stations in each area. Memphis as far as I'm concerned had the best radio stations. I remember hearing them play Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer," followed by a bluesy song and then a country song. I thought that was so cool. Nowhere else in America would you hear that kind of mix on the radio. In Virginia, I ended up listening to this talk show. Talk radio in Virginia is much different that it is out here. The topic this day was the tornadoes that had happened in Oklahoma two days before. The host talked about that, then about tornadoes, and then about extreme weather in general. And after that, the show just became people calling in, talking about bad weather situations that they had experienced: floods, hurricanes, snow storms. It was just people telling their stories. And it was great because it wasn't like out here where you basically have 30 seconds to say what you have to say before they kick you off and move to the next caller. People took their time and told their stories. I had been going crazy the last two days because I had just gone thorugh this major fucking storm and stared down death, but I couldn't fucking TELL ANYONE. I couldn't wait to get to Boston so that I could tell my story. Well, here was my chance to get some of it off my chest until I got to Boston. So I wrote down the 800 number and pulled off at the next exit and called in. I was on hold for maybe… 15 seconds and then they put me on. No screening of calls or anything. I just called to say I wanted to tell a story on the show and they patched me in. We talked for about 2 minutes. I told him the story. When he heard that I was driving from LA he thought he had struck gold. He started asking me if I had been through any earthquakes and what it was like. At that time, I hadn't experienced any earthquakes, but I tried to at least tell stories that people had told me. It was great. 5 minutes later, I was back on the road. I was a little dissappointed when I passed into West Virginia and started losing the reception. Gradually, I switched back to music.

I then proceeded to knock down 3 state lines in an hour: West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, crossing the Mason / Dixon line. I had officially crossed from the south to the north. By now it was about 3pm. I saw a sign that advertised "The Gentleman's Club." I figured, what the hell. I've been driving for 4 days. I deserved a little naked women. So I pulled off and went into the strip club for about 45 minutes. Recharged and reenergized, I was back on the road, now heading east again towards New Jersey and New York City.

At this point, I was getting a little frustrated because for some reason I thought New York was 300 miles from Boston and that meant that in addition to the hour it was going to take me to get to New York, it was going to be another 5 or 6 hours to Bosotn which meant I wouldn't be getting in until 11pm or so. At that point, I'd probably be too exhausted to do anything. Fuck, I was pissed. But then as I got closer, on an impulse, I pulled out the map and went to the page that gauges the distance between major cities. I don't know what I was thinking, because Boston is only 150 miles from New York. Shit, if I kept the hammer down, I could be there in just under 3 hours and just one more tank of gas. Rush hour between New Jersey and New York was a bitch. It took me a good hour and a half just to get through the city and to the expressway. Not to mention that I spent more in tolls in that hour and a half than I had spent in the entire trip. Bridge tolls, expressway tolls, it added up quick.

Once I had cleared the city limits, I gassed up and set out on the final leg. It was still rush hour, now about 5:30, but traffic was moving at a good pace. I am an expert traffic weaver and I did a lot of it here. Finally, by 6:00, I was far enough away from the city, and rush hour was nearing it's end and so I was cranked up to a good 75 m.p.h. Boston was so close I could feel it. I hit Connecticut. I hit Rhode Island. I hit Massachusetts.

I was so excited, I was shaking. So close so close. It was getting dark now at about 7:30 and there was a fog that was rolling in. The Boston Turnpike is a much less safe version of an LA freeway. 6 NARROW lanes, no lights, no reflectors on the lines, so it's really hard to even know if you're even in your lane. I was white knuckled the entire time.

The old John Hancock building in Boston is famous for it's weather detector. In the top of the building is a light that tells Bostonians what the weather is going to be. "Steady blue, clear view. Flashing blue, clouds are due. Steady red, rain ahead. Flashing red, snow instead." After 4 days and 3000 miles of driving, I cannot describe the feeling in my chest upon seeing that flashing blue light from the outskirts of Boston. It was my lighthouse, my beacon. I was home. I am choking up now as I think back on that emotion. Driving deeper and deeper into Boston, going from the subburbs into the heart of the areas I knew by heart: the North End, Fanuiel Hall, Storrow Drive, passing underneath the Arthur Fieldler footbridge which led over to the Emerson Dock, and then making that left up towards Beacon Street, passing my old dorm, heading over to Arlington Street and parking my car.

I went into the dorm and called my friend Maria. She said "Hello," and I just said, "Come down stairs." Her voice got all high-pitched as she said "HODGES? Are you down stairs??" And she hung up. When she bolted out of that elevator, she hugged me tighter than I've ever been hugged before. We went up to her room and called all the troops. It was Cinqo De Mayo. And hey, Hodges was back in town, we had to party. I told my friend Daniel that I'd be coming over and we'd all party. Maria was going to catch up with us a little later. When I got to the other dorm "the Little Building" I called up to Daniel and said I was downstairs. When the elevator opened, it wasn't just Daniel. It was about 20 people who I had known and loved for the past 4 years. It was a huge group hug as everyone came out of the elevator. A bunch of us went over to Flynn's the hole in the wall bar we always frequented. We drank. I told the story of the tornado over and over again to each new person. Terry stopped by for a second. He wasn't 21 so he couldn't come in, but I saw him from the doorway and ran over and gave him a hug. He and his girlfriend Courtenay were going to meet up with me after closing and I'd crash with him tonight.

I can pinpoint the exact happiest moment of this whole day. Probably the happiest single moment of that whole summer. I was sitting on a stool talking to this chick I used to work with at the restaurant when I looked over and in walked Maria… with Tara. Tara who had been one of my closest friends since freshman year and who during the last year, something had started to happen with us. Something that we couldn't quite put our fingers on, but was never really played out. I saw her walk in wearing a leather jacket and she looked absolutely beautiful. After 4 months of hanging out in LA with people I was sick of, she was my angel. I literally stopped mid-sentence and just got up off the stool and walked over to her and hugged her, held her tight. I ran my hands over her face. I was home.

As we drank and caught up, she asked me if I was buzzed yet because there was something she had to tell me and had to wait until we were both a little farther along. I wasn't quite yet, so she waited. A little later, with the alchohol setting in, a few of us were perched at a table and I don't remember what the conversation was that led to it, but I know it was related to what we were talking about, I started kissing the inside of Tara's wrists. We were all good friends. We did shit like that before and it had never meant anything. But now, I suppose it did. I asked her, "Okay, what did you want to tell me. I think I'm far enough along now." So we went to the back of the bar where there was this little alcove away from everyone.

She started talking about a night during first semester where a bunch of us had gone out to a bar and then afterwards, I had come down to her room and we talked for an hour and I ended up falling asleep in her room. She asked me what my intentions were that night because she thought there might have been something there. There had been. It was one of those things where there is definite chemistry there, but neither one of you wants to risk taking that step and possibly screwing up a great friendship, or at the least making it weird. She told me that she had really just wanted to kiss me that night. I told her the feeling was mutual. God it was so sweet the way it all happened. Her saying that she thought something was there, but wasn't sure. I told her that I felt the same. She said, "Are you sure?" I said I was sure. "Are you SURE?" Yes Tara, I'm sure. And then, in that alcove in the back of Charlie Flynn's, before she could lose her nerve, she went up on tip-toes and kissed me. I think she thought it would be just a quick thing to show me what she was feeling. But I instantly put my hand on her neck and held her there in probably the most tender, emotion filled moment of my life. Even now as I think back, this was probably a more powerful moment than when I would kiss Mary Ann next to the river 5 days later. Everything made this evening perfect.

As it turns out, I DIDN'T crash with Terry. I went back to Tara's room and we did a lot of kissing and just holding each other, falling asleep in each other's arms. The ensuing week would prove to shake things up and confirm fears we had had about taking this step. The whole thing with Mary Ann would no doubt complicate things and come between us and risk screwing up and cheapening everything. It was a drama to unfold, but for right now, in this moment, all was right with the world. I was home.