Inbound

Dateline: EFFINGHAM, IL    
The Crankies are returning to Cranky Girl Farm from their glorious trip to the nation's capitol. They easily could have stopped in Terre Haute, Indiana, but they're getting a cheap thrill from saying "Effingham" at the slightest provocation.  C1 smiled immoderately at the sight of the Effingham water tower, which bore the city's name, proudly writ large. Uncle Michael obliged Meta Cranky by asking whether she was going to the Effing swimming pool. Effingham may become the Cs' expletive of choice; they certainly will get their money's worth out of this stop on Interstate 70.

Almost heaven, I-70. Roads are flat there, flatter than the Walmart parking lots. Meta Cranky will take it any day over I-68. Who knew that Maryland had mountains? Meta Cranky never saw a single one at Camden Yards. Not that it isn't heartwarming to see a billboard for God's Anchor of Safety church on a hill with a 6-degree grade. Still, the Crankies would again slog over mountains, or even across the Tappen Zee Bridge (no small feat for the gephyrophobic Meta Cranky) to see their dear DC pals, let's call them Lillian and Dashiell. Wherever they are posted, be it Lodge Pole, Nebraska, or the Federal Territory of Kuala Lumpur, the Cs will follow the Hellman/Hammetts (and their lovely thespian daughter) for their extensive board game collection, their exemplary grilling skills, and their fathomless knowledge of things historical, architectural, or simply fun. They had C2 at "hello," but their understanding of the Sponge Bob oeuvre deepened an already vigorous relationship.


The Crankies' DC tour is the longest road trip of their collective career, and the experience has left them pondering the mysteries of enduring friendships and sisterhood in confined spaces. In addition, the Crankies will be processing the random information they have gleaned along the highway. For example, Indiana appears to be the high fructose corn syrup capital of the planet. Mile after mile of corn, taller than your minivan. Drive a few miles further, and Indiana's roadside advertising features an individual who successfully lost 200 pounds via surgery and, apparently, wants to help you do the same. Hmmm. Corn. Morbid obesity. Could there be a connection? Corn probably is not an issue in another Indiana observation: Signage indicates that Eastern Indiana citizens want desperately to see you in church. Any church. In the western part of the state? Bleh. Western Indiana appears not give a damn about your immortal soul. The Crankies are curious about why Indiana is running hot and cold on this one.


MC suspects that children of a certain age may not remember the lovely reflection of the Washington Monument on a glassy smooth Potomac, or the uplifting words of FDR carved in stone. They will, however, remember playing pickup-sticks at a certain national park and seeing a sleeping panda. MC herself will remember the Air and Space Museum for its space shuttle-shaped gummies, which C1 thoughtfully selected for  C2; C1's satisfaction in conquering the Metro on her second trip is also a keeper. The complete Cranky party will remember C2's appreciation of Walmart's advertising in Wheeling, West Virginia: Reading the phrase in the store's parking lot, she began vigorously chanting, "We sell for less!" Her interpretative recitation wasn't completely squelched until the group reached the produce section. 


MC recognized many years ago that final results excited her more than a discussion of their means of production. However, life with C1 and C2 on I-70 (and I-68!) reminds her that it's not just the destination; it's the journey. Now that she has evoked closure with a metaphor, she can get back on the highway.
--MC  


**Regarding photo, which features a favored koala and a doll named Isabel that plays "Send in the Clowns" when you wind up her bottom: C2 requests that readers observe how neatly she has arranged her friends in the back seat.