Road Trip!

The last movie I saw was Sideways. Sideways is, in a broad sense, about two guys that go on a road trip. Forgive the language, I fucking hated that movie. I hated the way that one guy never really made any amends for being a complete asshole, I hate the way the other guy just stewed in his own juices, I wasn’t particularly amused by the whole insider whine – I mean wine – language. I just couldn’t see what was so great about that movie, except for maybe the fact that it sure captured the character of the sorry ass guys at the center of the story.

Then, last night, I went to see Motorcycle Diaries with E. at the Crest. (For you non-Seattleites, the Crest is our cheap theater in the North End, three bucks gets you the big screen before the movie goes to video.) Motorcycle Diaries, is, in a broad sense about two guys that go on a road trip. That’s where the similarities end. Okay, for starters, it doesn’t hurt that Gael Garcia Bernal is wide-eyed and dishy, but even if he wasn’t, I’d have loved this movie.

I’m a sucker for a road trip. (That’s how I ended up going to see Sideways.) At the risk of sounding like a tiresome hippie, I think that road trips – travel, in general – are all about opening your eyes to the world and experiencing some kind of transformation. You get a teeny tiny serving of this at the end of Sideways but for me, it wasn’t enough. “Maybe I WILL go see her!” Bah. Boring! But when Ernesto swims across the river – okay, it’s a hokey enough metaphor, but still, it’s so much bigger.That’s transformation through travel. Whew. That was the most satisfying movie I’ve seen since, well, I don’t know when.
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In case you’re wondering (and you’re probably not) I do still come home with renewed insight in to something nearly every time I travel, though it’s not always very valuable, I’m no Che Guevara. This time, I have the misfortune of noticing that all over the place, we are driving the biggest damn cars you ever saw in your life. Okay, I’m sure I knew this already, but there’s something about coming from the winding roads of the snow covered mountains where people drive around all winter in plain old two wheel drive cars and then seeing the broad avenues of the Pacific Northwest choked with giant SUVs.

I’m sorry, you can not convince me that you need four wheel drive. It’s ridiculous. I drove a two door front wheel drive hatchback all winter long. We chained up ONE time for two days. And it snowed and snowed and snowed. What are you doing in that giant car? I don’t understand. I don’t believe you “need” it. You just don’t.
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After the movie, we went to Gordito’s, a place that makes burritos that are bigger than your head. No, really, they do. There’s a picture by the register of a new born baby next to one of their ‘grande’ burritos and they are The Same Size. I’m not kidding. I ate half of mine for dinner, scrambled a slice of the leftovers with an egg for brekkie this morning, and I still have enough left for a full meal.

Anyway, they had all this Hawaiian propoganda for upcoming Hawiian events around the Seattle area by the front door. E. handed me a copy of the Hawaii Times, a local community paper. We wondered what the connection could be between this very popular burrito joint and the Hawaiians. “Dunno,” said E, “but I’m sure you’ll find out.”

The woman at the checkout stand, after ringing me up said, “I see you’ve picked up the Hawaii Times…” and we started to talk. “I play the ukulele,” I said, and she lit right up. She’s from Hawaii. She asked me how long I’d been playing, where I’d learned – “Oh! Up at Aunty Gloria’s place! She’s SUCH a nice lady!” She’s taken lessons from a teacher that helps run SUPA and naturally, I said she should come and play with us.

I’m standing by my assessment that playing the uke brings you Aloha. You don’t even need to have your uke with you. You just have to play. Though one of the things I love about the uke is that it’s small enough to take with you where ever you go. It’s the perfect companion for a road trip.