UNITED STATES—The master got a welcome break from me, alias Luna, for seven days of freedom—a whole week, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. Yes, freedom so appropriate for the lead-up to Independence Day. Both mine and the master’s. His independence from me began with Thursday’s departure from Los Angeles. The morning departure, as it turned out, got a bit postponed, leaving him free to collect his wits and see that he packed the essentials.
Phone charger, for example. The master is finally catching up with modern times and realizes the importance of connectivity, even as we head for the open road. Just as he closed the front door, with satchel over shoulder and pleased with the sagacity of the items chosen to fill it, he picked his way over the steppingstones and stepped bang into one of my gooey peanut-butter-colored gifts to mother nature.
Fortune shined on him, though, for he had chosen a traditional flat-soled pair of dress shoes for the journey eastward. It was humbling, alright, but the goo produced by that off-brand peanut butter, was easily scraped off on the stark edge of a steppingstone. This setback was minimal. And he was able to stay in the in the cement catacomb of the parking garage where his dear Honda Civic would remain ensconced while the journey to Kansas City was launched. The destination: Kansas City Stadium, located in Kansas City, Missouri as opposed to Kansas City, Kansas.
Oh, it was a lot for a poor bloke like the master to keep in mind, the phone charger and that they were going to Missouri and not Kansas. Then again, do we really ever know where we are really, he thought and trusted all would turn out for the best, in the knowledge that to get away from the magnet of Los Angeles takes courage, a force of will bordering on recklessness.
For example, the car that is for many a necessity to work, discover the city and enjoy it on a fuller scale, suddenly turns into a liability if you lack a garage and plan to travel far for pleasure. That is why to have found a place for the Honda was a blessing and a half.
The certitude the master was going to be either in Kansas or Missouri, and away from his neighborhood felt shaky still.
“Where are you from?” he might be asked on the road, in his travel mate’s Bararian auto. He could truthfully answer: “Confusion.”
“Never heard of it…”
“It’s a state of confusion. Feels like home these days, and it is a necessary stop when you escape the vortex of Angel City.”
Yes, indeed.
We travel to leave our cares behind. To feed the mind with new sights and the stomach with new flavors. As the trip to Kansas City, Kansas commenced, it seemed as if the cares wanted to hitch a ride. It wouldn’t be a true bon voyage if it were otherwise. Meanwhile, I, Luna was delighted as a teen left at home while the rest of the family went to Yellowstone Park.
Luna was ready to party. Woof, woof!
To be continued…
