Bob: “So what did you learn from your roadtrip?”

Tim: “Was there supposed to be some moralistic ending to my vacation?”

Bob: “Not at all, I just know that you wouldn’t drive around aimlessly for ten days because you wanted to take a break from life…”

Tim: “Well, I suppose you’re right, only I didn’t realize it upon leaving. I needed to take the time away to re-evaluate what I want to do with my life.”

Bob: “Which is?”

Tim: “What I’ve always been doing. This right now. This is me, and before I left, I thought I needed something else. It turned out I was probably just smothering the very essence of my living because I was overworked the past few months…”

Bob: “See, so you did learn something about yourself…”

Tim: “Of course I did. I also learned why Bush was reelected president…”

Bob: “Why’s that?”

Tim: “Because even the blue states, the states that voted for Kerry, they’re full of rednecks that buy into all the nationalistic bullshit that started after 9/11….”

Bob: “Even the cities?”

Tim: “Well of course not. But the truck stops, and the roadways and the little slices of daily Americana, it’s all rednecks. Urban existence isn’t the norm for America. It’s very isolated in relation to the rest of the U.S.”

Bob: “So you’re saying that the U.S. isn’t as free thinking as we’re led to believe, even in the progressive states?”

Tim: “Definitely. I stopped at a truck stop in Connecticut, which is technically commuting distance from New York, and there was a sign on the wall that read ‘Support Our Troops, Let’s Roll Baby!’ It was horrifying. I could expect something like that in Iowa you know, but seeing that kind of thinking in a progressive state so close to New York City was pretty surprising…”

Bob: “I’ll say.”

Tim: “And the truck stop’s menu featured freedom toast and freedom fries!”

Bob: “Ouch, that does hurt.”

Tim: “It didn’t really. I ordered onion rings and raisin toast with a faux French accent….”



Bob: “I feel like a dick for saying it, but it seems like I can tell whether or not I’ll like a person from the type of car they drive.”

Tim: “I wouldn’t feel like a dick for saying that. It IS true in most cases.”

Bob: “Like tonight, I was dropping off some mail at the mailbox before I went to the ATM, and this big old American-flag bearin’, loud ass Chevy pickup comes barreling into the parking lot. It wasn’t a brand new one either, so it must’ve had quite a bit of restoration done to it.”

Tim: “And the guys were assholes I presume?”

Bob: “I don’t actually know as a fact that they were, but I got the feeling that they liked beating people up, eating lots of red meat and voting republican simply from the truck they were in and the callous way in which they felt they could drive it.”

Tim: “That’s not an asshole Bob; that’s a typical American…..”

Bob: “Well then all typical Americans around here must be assholes.”

Tim: “I guess so, but there are some OK ones in there.”

Bob: “Yes there are, but as a rule, typical Americans don’t venture for understanding of different subcultures outside of themselves, and I think that’s my problem with assholes that drive big American pickup trucks. They’d rather just heckle other people and try to fight them than understand that there’s some different thought processes going on outside of their silver-backed group.”

Tim: “Well we do that too. Only we offer sarcastic comments on the side instead of heckling and fighting.”

Bob: “Fine, I’m a hypocrite. You made your point!”

Tim: “I’m not saying you’re a hypocrite, Bob. We all are to some degree. That’s inherent, it’s not a bad quality either, since a lot of the time it actually helps us achieve better understanding of such subjects…. Besides, I don’t like the guys you described either. I’m not like them and they’re not like me, and us discussing their mode of transportation and how it relates to their levels of testosterone isn’t going to bring us closer together….”

Bob: “I guess what I’m getting at is that the high school levels of strata I grew up with never left; they just changed from expensive sneakers to obnoxious automobiles. And it didn’t help that I was still on my bike while I was dropping off my mail….”

Tim: “Here we go again, you and your problems with jock culture and how it ruined the world…..”

Bob: “It’s true. America is the land of jocks. The land was bullied from its original inhabitants, the president is still bullying countries around left and right. It’s all a big metaphor for the jock picking on the nerd in the locker room.”

Tim: “Except now you can add ‘Jocks that drive restored American pickup trucks’ to that.”

Bob: “And I will next time this comes up. But the beginning premise doesn’t just concern jocks. The wiggers around here got some explaining to do as well.”

Tim: “Now you’ve lost me.”

Bob: “White kids pretending to be glorified gangstas from the street, lowering their cars, putting expensive rims and those big fins on the backs of their cars.”

Tim: “Yeah I don’t understand them either, and their cars all do look extremely dumb, but at least most of them aren’t voting republican.”

Bob: “Wow, you are really optimistic tonight. What are you drinking?”

Tim: “Same shit as always. I’m just somewhat friendly with a few people that could be considered both jocks and wiggers, and yeah, they both do some really dumb shit that I’ll never understand, but deep down, they’re ok people that just eat, talk, dress and drive differently than us.”

Bob: “I see the moral here. So you look past the differences, find the few similarities you have with them, and try and live harmoniously from there on out…..”

Tim: “Hell no. The jocks I know always want to drive if we go out, and the wiggers I know always have the best weed. I enjoy the fringes of their subcultures and we remain friends because of it….”

Bob: “I’ll give you a ride home if you can score me some of that weed then!”