Slow News Week
Or rather, no news week. Going on vacation trips with Mrs. Lipstick means we head for those blank spots on the map with few little symbols and fewer amenities, those lonely stretches where "Here be Monsters", where towns are rare and far between. And that's just the way we like it. We prefer to do what I guess would be unconventional activities - we get our kicks far from jostling crowds and we prepare to be self sufficient and out there by ourselves. Hence taking a hammer to a trailer window when the idiot RV decided to lock us out like Hal locked out Dave in 2001.
We spent our days 60 miles from the nearest habituation in the high desert of Eastern Oregon so there was no television even if we wanted one and no daytime radio. Newspapers are for lighting campfires. Of course there's always nightime AM skip but aside from Coast to Coast there's nothing remotely to care about in the loud and fetid AM swamp. I forced myself to catch a little fading happy commuter talk from Salt Lake City before the rising sun blotted it out just to see if WW3 was going to be a factor in our road trip, and I learned exactly two stories in between the incessant traffic, weather and commercials - miners are still trapped in Utah and that bridge is still down in Minnesota. Whatever else happened in the outside world I'm blissfully unaware of. The two huge stories here have been having gas in the tank and keeping the beer cold.
That could change with our new location, a little town on the Salmon river in Idaho. There might be more radio reception here unless the looming mountains on both sides take care of that possibility and there even might be WiFi in one of the little burgs along the river. In fact I'll put money on it as we're here to float some water and there are all kinds of outfitters running around, dumping dazed tourists back and forth from their overpriced river excursions. So this is a Happening Place and pretty soon my self imposed news blackout will end and I'll again learn about all the latest disasters, political chicanery and heavy handed fascist outrage. Lucky me.
We spent our days 60 miles from the nearest habituation in the high desert of Eastern Oregon so there was no television even if we wanted one and no daytime radio. Newspapers are for lighting campfires. Of course there's always nightime AM skip but aside from Coast to Coast there's nothing remotely to care about in the loud and fetid AM swamp. I forced myself to catch a little fading happy commuter talk from Salt Lake City before the rising sun blotted it out just to see if WW3 was going to be a factor in our road trip, and I learned exactly two stories in between the incessant traffic, weather and commercials - miners are still trapped in Utah and that bridge is still down in Minnesota. Whatever else happened in the outside world I'm blissfully unaware of. The two huge stories here have been having gas in the tank and keeping the beer cold.
That could change with our new location, a little town on the Salmon river in Idaho. There might be more radio reception here unless the looming mountains on both sides take care of that possibility and there even might be WiFi in one of the little burgs along the river. In fact I'll put money on it as we're here to float some water and there are all kinds of outfitters running around, dumping dazed tourists back and forth from their overpriced river excursions. So this is a Happening Place and pretty soon my self imposed news blackout will end and I'll again learn about all the latest disasters, political chicanery and heavy handed fascist outrage. Lucky me.
posted by nolocontendere at 12:57 PM
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