Week of 4/1

Regis Michelena

Domo arigato, that guy!

            If this column had a theme song, it would probably be “Mr. Roboto” by the amazing but critically panned group Styx, who I got to see in concert last week. Oh, yeah- it kicked ass! I say this with the intent of continuing the tradition of theme songs that have absolutely no business being theme songs, such as “Love is All Around” from Mary Tyler Moore, “Best Friend” from The Courtship of Eddie’s Father, and “Where Everybody Knows Your Name” from Cheers.

            Let’s face it, kids- nobody knew anybody’s name on Cheers. 

            The reason that “Mr. Roboto” works is because I am not a robot, nor are there any robots that do anything involving this column that I know of.

            Anyway, like many of you, I did a lot of driving over spring break. I drove from Laramie to Sheridan, from Sheridan to Casper, returned to Sheridan,  then to Casper again, then back to Sheridan, after which I went to Taco John’s, and eventually I wound up in Laramie again. Yep, I spent more time in a car then I did with my family, friends, and betta fish, excluding the time that he was in the car with me.

            During my excessive driving, I realized a few things. First, if you pass a rest area, you will really have to pee within fifteen minutes. This happened a few times, but luckily, traffic wasn’t all that heavy. I could have done without the school bus of elementary schoolchildren and the car full of nuns, but that’s life.

            As large and unpopulated as most of the great state of Wyoming is, you’d think that there would be a lot of dead spots, where no radio stations come in. Don’t just tell me to put in a tape or a CD- my car only has a radio. The closest I came to a dead spot were a few stretches where I only had two choices: NPR and a country station. Nope, certainly not a dead spot, but definitely worse than death.

            Please, don’t get the impression that I think that NPR is bad. It is often quite entertaining and enlightening, unlike many other stations that play drivel that was mistakenly classified as “music.” But everybody has an off day. Is it just me, or is the evolution of the custom of arranged marriages among Indo-Americans not conducive for driving entertainment?

My life isn’t that boring.

            And then there’s the guy that’s either from South Dakota, Colorado, or Montana. Yeah, that guy- the one at parties that everybody refers to as “that guy.” This is the kind of idiot that would try and pass you on the shoulder of the highway because he is too stupid to realize there is a lane designed for that kind of thing. So “that guy” is burning down the interstate at least fifteen miles over the established and clearly posted speed limit and riding on my tail. If his pickup had lips, it would be kissing my car’s figurative buttocks.

            But before any actual physical contact could happen, something must have clicked in his brain to change lanes. So he did, nearly swapping paint with me, and blew by faster than the Roadrunner. But was he alone? No, of course not- there was that other guy right behind him, about to rear end the first guy. Luckily, they got past me incredibly quickly and were beyond the horizon within minutes. I estimate that, including pit stops and sleeping periods, these guys are now approaching Guatemala City, Guatemala. If only they could drive to Europe- they’d probably fit in there.

            Driving alone for long distances is one thing, but being confined to the same small space as family members is something completely different. Road trips now are not the same as they were back when you were a kid. Granted, your mom will still listen to the same country “I got drunk, my dog died, and/or I wrecked my truck” music as back in the day, but now you can’t ask “Are we there yet?” at regular intervals or seek solace in your Game Boy. Now you have to talk about important and sometimes intellectual things. I’d expound my personal experiences here, but I don’t want to give you all nightmares.

            If you have learned anything from all of this, I earnestly hope that it is to beware of the interstate/highway driving that is all-too-common here in Wyoming and the US as a whole. It is a risky endeavor at best, but with the proper precautions and preparations, can be survived.

            Just watch out for that guy and that other guy, especially if you happen to be driving through Central America. ¡Tengan cuidado, amigos!