Actually IN hippieville

So we're currently in Eureka, CA, just one stop away from Berkeley, and there are hippies EVERYWHERE. Not just casual, into the environment, loose pants hippies, but full blown, flute blowing, drum circling, curb sitting dirty hippies. It's pretty intense. We're visiting Becca's sister at Humboldt State, and it is something else, and just about the opposite of everything we've seen so far. Because I can say for certain now that I have seen America and it is a scary place.

So after Nashville (thanks again to LBo for hosting us. Glad I finally got my coleslaw from the worst waitress of all time) we went to Chicago. Basically just switched my stuff out and then we headed to Iowa. We went to family weekend at Grinnell where I once again remembered why it was dumb to graduate, saw the family, developed a giant fear of lymphatic cancer, and then moved on once again to the Field of Dreams.

Becca and I both enjoyed emerging from the corn and sitting on the bleachers. I got a pretty sweet necklace there, too. I had to commemorate my near brush with Kevin Costner. Little did I know it would be the first of several...

After the field we continued driving west. I honestly forget some of what came in between, but we ended up in Minnesota at the world's best truckstop and restaurant, Trails. I ate the best broasted chicken (pressure cooked in oil. so so good) and Becca found a super awesome $5 sweatshirt. We spent the night in a lovely KOA before continuing on to visit the Spam Museum where I tried Spam for the first time (so vile I couldn't swallow) and then we went to what can only be described as the weirdest place in the world: South Dakota.

Honestly, I think we both would have been happy spending a couple weeks in this wacky place. There was so much to see and it really felt like a sociological study. When Europeans think of America, they have to be thinking of South Dakota. Still, it was the most foreign place I've ever been. Our first stop there was Buffalo Ridge. The sign promised a live buffalo herd, but it was just 2 sad buffalos behind a wire fence. We went inside, hoping for a snack. Instead we encoutered the scariest man ever. Upon entering he asked where we were from. We answered, and asked about him. Apparently, he was from Las Vegas but moved there to get away from all those damn illegal immingrants. To his dismay, they followed him. Now he warned us not to vote for that damn Barack Obama. "That Barack Obama wants to make us all learn Spanish!" Oh no! The horror! A nation of bilinguists able to communicate with our neighbors!!! We left with a pretty good idea of what was to come.

Our next stop was the Corn Palace in Mitchell. The Palace was reccommended to us by the lady at the Spam Museum, so we held high hopes. I guess she hadn't seen much outside of Spam, because it ws pretty weak. It's this big building that an artist from Mitchell decorates every year with corn. There are corn murals which are pretty cool, but I was expecting a building constructed from corn. Thus, a disappointment. No worries though. South Dakota had more in store.

Becca and I intended to make it all the way to the Badlands and camp there. However, it started to storm just as we were approaching. Being from CA, Becca had never seen so much lighting in her life. I had, but it rivaled some of the big storms back home. We decided it might be better to sleep indoors. So we went to Wall, home of Wall Drug Store and also the Cactus Lounge.

After checking into a hotel, we decided to get dinner at the Cactus Lounge. One bad sald bar later, we were ready for a drink. So we headed to the other side of the wall where the full bar was waiting for us. We were served by Chris, a bald Bears fan in his 40s wearing a Sturgis Motorcycle Rally denim tank top and super tight jeans. We soon met Calvin, a 36 yr old dry wallist in an American Flag tank top and track pants, Tyson, a fat guy with a love of hunting and a misguided knowledgte of history, and Jake, an angry blad guy with bad facial hair and a deep running hatred of Democrats. These were our new best friends. We played dice, chatted about their trip to Wyoming to go hunting, our crazy liberal ways, Calvin's dream to open a restaurant, etc. We tried to laugh at their somewhat offensive jokes. We danced. Then, at some point, my line was crossed. Actually, it was when the jokes went from kind of sexist to hating on fags and the punchlines were about killing black people. I had to leave. A little more educated about America and a little dismayed.

Anyhow, there's much more to report but a porch swing and a shower are calling my name. More later, from Berkeley.