In 2002 I decided to cross one of the items off my bucket list (I hate that expression – if someone knows a better one please leave it in the comments) and took a trip to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. My boss didn’t want to sign off on the vacation time because he was anticipating some sort of crisis during that week, so I almost had to quit my job for it. It was one of the few times I actually played hardball – I was playing chicken with a $2000 Christmas bonus that wouldn’t be awarded unless you actually worked for the company the day they handed out the checks – but I eventually got my way and flew out to Austin to join my college friend F****. Our plan was to rent a car and drive from Texas to Louisiana, stay at an as-yet undetermined hotel on the outskirts of Louisiana and drive into town each day for parades.
F**** and I didn’t have a great track record of traveling together. During our senior year in college, we’d embarked on a cross-country journey from Virginia to California in an aging Ford Taurus that my parents had given to me. After a single day of being on the road together, we came to an unspoken agreement that if we didn’t make it across the country as quickly as possible, our journey might outlast our friendship. We ended up driving in shifts for 34 straight hours, from Asheville, North Carolina to Las Vegas, stopping only for food and gas. We survived, and our friendship survived (that particular trip, at least – we’re no longer friends today), and it didn’t seem like a bad idea to try it again four years later.
The Film: Easy Rider
The Song: “Ballad of Easy Rider”
The Artist: Roger McGuinn
