It was like waking up in the Twilight Zone. The sunlight shone through the window this morning, just as bright as can be. Nothing beats an early summer morning.

7:29 P.M. (Or one second later)

You know a great mission is underway when you wake up to begin day two. It is a sealing of the deal.  The sun was shining through the windows of my room this evening as though it were morning. I got up, showered, and plotted supper ( or breakfast or whatever I was about to eat). Peculier, just as I drove into the super small Alfred village the sun began to set. So ended the shortest day of my life.

I got a grinder from a local pizza place and brought it back to the room. As I put this to words I am marveling at how simple my meal tastes were at 18. That was such a good and easy thing. Later in life if I had done this trip, I would have been scouring the countryside of western New York for something that bends the rules! The contrast is fascinating. Let’s face it too, in 1984, there was a lot less rule-bending in the culinary world, at least for the average person. Alfred Village did not appear to be a place that bends rules no matter what decade or millennium it is. The biggest dares I saw back in this era were actually made in my father’s kitchen.

Since it was 1984 I watched Scarecrow and Mrs. King on television. After this, I saw Knightrider. This was an episode that has Michael against the ever-evil twin Garth Knight and the infallible Goliath the killer truck. The episode turned out to be a two-parter that ended just after the Knight Industries Two-Thousand plunged off a 500-foot cliff to meet its supposed demise. Unfortunately, this was a two-part episode and it took me 37 years to finally watch part 2!

11 o’clock arrived and I packed up my Dodge. I am excited. I watched the weather and find that it appears that I will see some rain through the rest of western New York on my path to northwest Pennsylvania.

By 11:45 I had little patience left, so I decided to leave the Squirrels Nest Motel and continue west on Route 17. Working my way back toward 17 lightning flashed on the northern horizon. The car engine, for the second night in a row, just purred along nicely.

When I wasn’t listening to the radio I was playing tapes. I bought two new tapes the week before I left, which I absolutely loved. John Cougar Mellencamp’s Uh Huh and the Kinks, Low Budget. I could not get enough of these on this trip. JCM was burning up the charts in 1984 with Crumblin’ Down and Pink Houses in which MTV, which was in its blowtorching heyday, was promoting JCM’s new album seemingly every 10 minutes. The promotion, in which they would give away a house to the grand prize winner and there JCM stood in front of the camera, drawling, “We’re gonna paint the mother pink!”

But now the chart-topper was “The authority song”. But I have a lot of appreciation for the overall LP.  “Golden Gates” shows a person with his faith shaken and trusting no one. A song that shows the singer understands that people are really not looking out for your best interests.  Especially the government.  This is no surprise to me when you look at the timeline.  John’s next album the following year in 1985 was clearly activism, in support of all of the American farmers who were losing their farms in record foreclosures.  “Jezebel” shows a moral and decent man trading in all his goodness not because he is running to badness, but because he is tired and worn down and thusly trading principles for a warmer place to sleep.  “Play Guitar,” the name says it all. But then again this next line really adds the topping: “Forget all about that macho shit and learn how to play guitar.” This held a special place in my heart having served four years in Waterbury (which I used to write as “Mortarbury.” My readers always got it too, they often said, “it sounds like morbid.” Intent understood: Check!) Waterbury had a group of people who were styling their hair with all that flammable stuff, wearing the bright red shiny jacket and the stupid parachute pants so they could imitate Michael @#$%^!^&^&!! Jackson! BLLLLLEEEEECCCCCKKKKKK! 

OK, breathe….just let the blood pressure return to normal.  Back to JCM.  “Jacki O” is a very strange song but you like it.  It’s one of those songs that you would never tell anyone you liked, at least while you were 18.

Route 17 finally ended and I felt like I had left an old friend.  I followed long dark back roads to lead me to Interstate 90 in Westfield.  It was like I had been in a different world before. I had pretty much traveled 400 miles with minimal interstate exposure, that is until now.

The interstate suddenly brought me back into the twentieth century.  Life! Once again! Cars screaming down the highway! What a change of pace! Kind of welcomed after the years of peaceful gliding I had done across the not-so-empire state of New York.  This sudden change of surroundings signified to me that my journey was in fact being accomplished. Here in the wee hours of Monday morning, I knew the great Lake Erie was within eyesight if not for the dark of night. Alright Tom, maybe you have a point?

I was headed for Cleveland, Ohio. This would be my first time in Ohio. This was also my first time in Pennsylvania. After only one hour spent in the usually much bigger state of Pennsylvania, I crossed into Ohio.  Because I was traveling that northwest little tab that sticks up out of PA between NY State to the east and Ohio to the west, my time in PA was brief. Ohio is the Midwest as it is known.  I learned this from family ties, a show that at the time of this trip was doing very well.

I saw my first interstate bypass loop sign and I took it up on its offer to go around a major city than to go through it. I did have to change to I-71 south anyway so I took bypass I-271 south. This was yet somewhat busy, but nothing like going right into the city. So here I was traveling at night, so I do not get to see a great lake.  Now, taking the bypass loop, I do not get to see my first major city.  I was still OK with it as I was getting used to traveling, but it would start eating away at me.

Sohio is a word I shall never forget.  Sohio stations were conveniently splattered all over Ohio.  Everywhere you looked, there they were.  I remember these fondly.  Why?  They are only gas stations.  I love anything that is unique and has a local flavor.  I loved being in Maine in 1979 because they had a bottle bill. They had Staff brand pancakes.  They talked differently from “normal” people.  Sohios were only in Ohio and that to me made them special. In 1984 I was pretty sure that all the local individuality had been forcefully extracted from local areas thanks to television and syndicated radio watering down accents and local folklore.  I was keenly aware of this having read John Steinbeck’s Travels With Charley in the weeks before I left for this trip.  If Mr. Steinbeck could identify it in 1960, how much more so could I see it in 84?  This 24-year gap may suggest that it is all gone by 1984, but that is not true. Decades later the losses of everything local could almost be classified as cultural genocide. Sadly the Standard Oil Company of Ohio would cease to exist in 1987 with the last sign coming down in 1991 exactly 80 years after the company was started. Globalization now makes 1984 look like the 1930s. At least I can say I knew these places at one time, it is sad they are now gone.

I played tapes all night with the exception of listening to WKBW in Buffalo and trying out WLW in Cincinnati.  Last winter I listened to WLW Cincinnati to a woman psychic doing a show called “Beyond the Norm”. What a cheezy thing it was, but it got listeners. WLW was a powerful 50,000-watt giant like KB that could be heard on certain nights even thousands of miles away.  I was being very good about watching the fuel gauge and other gauges for that matter.  I promised myself I would refuel every time the needle hit the halfway mark. I noticed the alternator gauge was reading a bit under. Like as if gravity were pulling it over to the minus side of the “0”.  It was one of those things. You know it is not an issue but somehow, you just know it will be.

Yesterday I was in western New York as a dreary day slowly changed from black to gray.  But this morning was the opposite. Gradually the daylight revealed a spread open wide Ohio terrain. Beautiful! Yet the flattest state I had ever seen. Flat means tornados. I know. I watched Wizard of Oz. The sun came into view. A beautiful sunrise.

I enjoyed the sights then decided it was time to refuel. Of course, I chose a Sohio to stop at. Gas, coffee, and a pastry, and back to the car. Turned the key. Very slow crank, but she started. That’s why my turn signals interfered with the radio.  I headed north on the highway from the way I came to go to a rest area I had just seen.  All the way to the rest area the alternator gauge read way over on the overcharging side.  Good old girl, she was not one to let me down. I got back onto the southbound lane and found my rest area. The bathrooms were something of the 1890s. Yet outside was so well groomed.  I got into the car, closed the windows, and went to sleep…

When I had gone to sleep the day was new and the temperature was not very hot. It’s 1984 and you have to lock your car if you’re going to sleep in it in a rest area. But man was it hot.  I headed down the highway south on I-71.  It’s nearly July and this is Ohio. I drove through the wide-open Ohio terrain enjoying the spectacular expanse. How beautiful. Around 11 am I pulled off the highway to find a campground that highway billboards warned of. Sunbury, Ohio. Understand that since this was the flattest land I had yet seen to date, the word Ohio may have well been “Tornado”. So this was Sunbury, Tornado. Stupid? Probably. But youth has its ignorance.

I pulled into the campground and there was a lady in her 50s there. She was not very social and looked like she expected trouble rather than business. I really did not like this place as a result. Nor did it have much to offer. Looking back it was hard to believe that at this time yesterday, I was tucked into a nice warm bed on a dreary Sunday afternoon in the village of Alfred, NY. Seemed like a million years ago. 

I lay down on the front seat of the Dodge and turned on the radio. Yes. To WLW Cincinnati.  I had trouble going to sleep today. This is because every jet I heard in the sky I thought could be a tornado. This made me uneasy. But after a while, I began to laugh. How silly for me to think that “A tornado can just come out of nowhere without warning.” my new sensible approach relaxed me. WLW played quietly in the background. Then one line that they said just stood out…And it went as follows…”This is WLW Cincinnati, your tornado information center…That’s right because we know that a tornado can come out of nowhere without warning”. Needless to say, after this I did not sleep.