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April 17, 1976 - Image 12

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Michigan Daily, 1976-04-17

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Page Two

I HE MICHIGAN DAILY - TRAVEL SUPPLEMENT

Saturday, ADH 117, 1974

- . - . -I, .

r I.' y~r

i

TravelSupplement
Staff
EDITORS: Dan Blugerman and Jeff Epstein.
BUSINESS MANAGER: Dan Blugerman.
SALESPEOPLE: Colleen Hogan, Jeff Liebster, Jeff
Goldsmith, Nancy Granadier, Carol Keller, Sue
Marsch, Larry Juran, Jeff Epstein, Ollie Kiesel.
Thanks to Lucius Doyle and Arch Gamm.
The Travel Supplement to the Michigan Daily was a
publication of the Business Staff. Articles attributed to
MADEMOISELLE appeared in the March, 1976 issue.

71

Highway life provides traveler with wealth of experienc'

I

(continued from page 1)
began thinking of finding a place
to stay the night. I felt my back
pocket, ,and with a shock rea-
lized that my checkbood was
gone. Probably sitting on the
preacher's front seat.
This was just dandy. Here I
was, the author of a thesis on
the King of the Beat Genera-
tion, eight dollars in my pocket,
tired and cold and unable to get
a ride out of Atlanta. I began to
get a little delerious. There were
two yellow blind spots in the
middle of my vision from star-
ing at people's brights. I began
talking out loud, addressing the
_friendly people of Atlanta: "My
friends, I have often been told
that much is expected of those
to who much is given. That isi
probably a true statement, buti
dear friends let me tell you
about the poor man, the starv-
ing man, the lonely man, the
man to whom nothing is given.
Of him much is demanded."
Before this went too far, a
soft voiced black man in a white
car stopped for me. He was just
going about 10 miles up the
road. I asked him if he knew of
any cheap places to stay. A
perfect gentleman, he took me
a mile out of his way to a six
dollar motel. "Thanks," I said,
"right now you're the kindest
person in Atlanta."
The room was $6.24 with tax.
This gave me $1.76 to eat on
for the next two days. After
checking in I walked up the

road a bit to a McDonald's and
had two cheeseburgers. $1.05
left. It was the only food I'd
had all day, and I was pretty
damn hungry.
It took me a long time to fall
asleep. I was hungry, and as
lonely as I'd ever been.
I woke at daylight. It was
pouring rain outside the window.
Great. Hitching in the rain is
even worse than hitching at
night. Either way, people figure
you're a raving maniac, and
they'll move into the outside
lane just to avoid you.
Luckily, I waited less than two
minutes for a ride. I never did
find out the name of the guy
who picked me up. About all I
know about him is that he works
thirty miles north of Atlanta,
which is about thirty miles north
of where I was just then.
One more thing. He had a CB,
radio. "I just keep it for com-
pany," he said. Which is prob-
ably the same reason he picks
up hitch-hikers in the rain.
"Hey," he said, "I bet I could
get you a ride with this thing."
"Breaker One Nine, I'm look-
ing for a north-bounder on I-75.
We need someone to carry a
young man a little farther
north." The call went out about
six times before there was an
answer. It was garbled so bad-
ly that neither of us could under-'
stand it, and 'after a minute it
died out altogeth'er. I had given

message came1
that hitch-hiker,
back to you, can
sage, comon."

through: "On
he's coming
I relay a mes-

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"Ask him for a 10-20, comon."
"He's waiting for you up by
the Shell station where I-75
starts again."
Soon we had an "eyeball" on
the Shell station. Right out front
was this big white Cadillac. That
car looked mighty pretty in
that pouring rain. It was the
greatest stroke of luck I had on
the trip, and it made up for the
long hopeless night in Atlanta.
The man in the Cadillac in-
troduced himself as Eliot (it's
just as well that I don't remem-
ber his last name) and he in-
structed me to put my pack and
sign, both of which he regarded
with apparent disgust, in the
back seat.
Eliot's accent was a combina-
tion lisp, proper English, and
Georgia drawl. Obviously it
sounded funny, but it was also
very charming.
Right before the ramp going
onto I-75, three hippie types
were thumbing a ride, sheltered
from the rain by only the over-
pass.
"I would never give a ride to
cweeps like that," Eliot said.
I squirmed a little bit in my1
seat. My hair is long, though not
extremely long. I was dressed
in my worst pair of jeans. I
didn't look a whole lot different
from those three guys under the
overpass.
To change the subject I asked
Eliot what he thought of Jimmy
Carter.
"Behind that big smile he's as
corrupt as they come. He was
the worst governor Georgia has
ever had. He was in big with all
the Mafia types in Atlanta. oYu
know, I think Richard Nixon
was one of the best presidents
we ever had. You don't thinkf

that he was a good diplomat?
The Chinese sent a f---ing 707,
for him."
I acknowledged the fact that
the Chinese had sent a plane for
Nixon.
"Actually he didn't do any-
thing that bad. All he did was
cover for his friends. If a friend
of mine got in trouble and asked
me to cover for him, of course
I'd do it. So would you.
Just as I was beginning to
think I'd run into Rabbi Baruch
Korf in disguise, Eliot turned in-
to a Howard Johnson's for some
coffee.
Eliot ordered some breakfast.
Mindful of my budget, I ordered
coffee.
To the waitress, a rather
frumpy, middle-aged blonde, El-
iot called, "When you gonna
run away to Florida with me,
honey?"
Obviously pleased, she ans-
wered coyly, "Oh, but I'm mar-
ried."
"So am I!" laughed Eliot tri-
umphantly, as if that settled it.
"My son," Eliot said, "he's a
lot like you. He got into some
trouble with drugs. Of course, I
had to help him, he would have
had ten years. My lawyer ar-
ranged a lunch with the judge,
the D.A., and the two narcs that
framed my son. Nothing was
said about the case; they just
sat there soaking up Bloody
Mary's, me picking up the tab.
Jesus, I've never seen guys
drink - so many Bloody Marys.
So then my lawyer told the
judge that we wanted to make a
contribution to his campaign.
The judge said $4,000 would be
appropriate. The D.A. cost me
another two grand, the narcs a
thousand each. My son got off
with a ssupended sentence."
Eliot - took me all the way to
Knoxville. The second time we
stopped for coffee, Eliot asked

me if I had any money. I told
him how much I had. He stuffed
three bucks in my shirt before
I could refuse it. "Here, buy
yourself some lunch. I only give
money to the ones like you,
who are too proud to ask for it."j
He was making me feel like a
frigging lily-of-the-field.
When Eliot let me off he shook
hands patronizingly, "Too bad
you can't stay the night in Knox-
ville, I could get you a good
lay." I said thank you, but no.
The purpose of this trip was to
forget about a bad love affair,
and besides, it made me ner-
vous to stay in one place too
long.
I felt a little nervous hitch-
ing in downtown Knoxville. I
was now poor enough to be a
vagrant if I was picked up. I
waited only three minutes
though before yet another white
Cadillac stopped for me.
The inside of the car was a
complete wreck. The upholstery
had been almost totally burned
by cigarettes. There were three
guys with very bad acne, and
an ugly girl, who was sleeping
in the back. It didn't take me
long to find out that these guys
had just gotten out of the pen,
and that the car was stolen.
They had trouble ge t t in g
through a single sentence with-
out busting out laughing.
"We'll take you out of the city
so you don't get picked up. The
pigs here are bastards, Yester-
day we picked up a guy with
60c, so we bough a gallon of
gas, and drove him till it ran
out. That's all we do all day,
drive around."
They left me off at the first
exit out of the city. If I'd given
them some money, they would
have taken me farther, but I'd
rather be on the road than in a
stolen Cadillac. ,
I waited a long time. But
then I wanted to. The hills north
of Knoxville were beginning to
come to life. There -were the
flowers and the fresh green
leaves of spring. A warm breeze
blew from the south.
I was picked. up by a couple of
0. of K. students onatheirway
to Louisville in a Pinto. They
told me that U. of M. had beat-
en Notre Dame. I couldn't be-
lieve it.
These guys didn't talk much,
except about the strip mines we
passed. I told them the whole
story of my trip to break the

up hope.
"Then,

sparkling clear, theI

silence. Then I fell asleep i
the back seat of the Pinto.
When I woke up we were i
Louisville, and the day w
coming to an end. I had a tr
mendous backache from sleet
ing in that cramped seat.
As I waited out on the roa
I began to fear another lonel:
night, only this time there wa
no money for a motel.
Up to this point, I had n
used my sign very much. In
ticed that people were laughin
when they saw how far I has
to go. But now I needed a goog
ride, and I wasn't all that fa.
from Michigan. So I' held ou;
the sign.
A red Ford Econoline vat
came to a quick stop. My hear
leaped as I saw the hokey bi
centennial license plate.
As I settled into the rear o
the van, i girl who introducet
herself as Debbie handed me i
joint. "We're gOing to Detroit'
she said.
But I wanted to get still fa
ther, I wanted to get on. I
If you are going to be in Eu
rope and know an Anthropology
or Art History professor whe
would consider giving you inde.
pendent study credits, maybe
you can arrange something
through the new American
Chapter of the Archeoclib d'
Italia. This is a group of Italiaxl
archaeologists who are at wors
excavating, restoring, catalog
ing and helping to put local
museums together. 'They plsc
are generally raising- money
and public interest in preserv-
ing 'and restoring major site
of historicand iartistic signifi
cance all over Italy.
Interested people should-write
as soon as possible to Archeo-
Iclum d'Italia,' 37 Charles~Hl
Circle, Orinda, Calif. 94563.. The
Chapter will then act as liaison
in arranging for small.-parties
to get inon actual digs,:and
will help set up local accom
modations.
Teo days' participation on-
dig is the average stay-oon
and board usually works out t
under $1S a day; add $15;
membership in the Archeocl
d'Italia. All trips are individ-
ually planned and require much
advance paperwork, so write
far ahead of when you want tc
go. -- Mademoiselle.
The American Indian Travel
Commission is a non-profit, or-
ganization that provides trav-
elers with a listing of vacation
possibilities at Indian-owned-
and-operated facilities. For free
copies of ,"Campground and
Trailer Parks" and "Motels and
Resorts," write the Commisslo
at Suite 550, Westland. B
Building, 10403 W. Colfax Ave.
Lakewood, Colo. 80215.

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