|
LESLIE'S JOURNAL |
![]() message... |
|||
| Date: 8th May
| Time: 12:34am | Place: Chicago | |||
|
Once more I am sitting in Larry Steger's front room, looking out at the Cross House over the road, this time with the trip behind instead of in front of me. Last time I sat here writing, snow was falling outside. Tonight is beautiful and clear and Larry has taken us out into the garden to show us that the poppy seeds we left are coming up. He said they just appeared and he was wishing we were here to see them when we appeared suddenly out of the night. We had no arrangement to meet Larry and in fact, were just driving past to wave hello to a familiar spot on our way to a hotel room to do our web duties before greeting Larry on the morrow. But just as we drove past, Larry walked out the front door and spotted us. He insisted that we stay and it seemed fated somehow, so we nipped round the corner and bought strawberries and champagne to bring back to celebrate the end of the road. I hope our web readers will forgive us for imbibing in a few glasses before settling down to our journals. In some ways it would have been more practical to do things the other way round - what are the laws as regards cruising the info. superhighway over the legal limit? - but we couldn't help ourselves. The trip has been such an amazing adventure that I can hardly comprehend the notion that we won't be jumping in the car tomorrow and heading somewhere new. When we left Larry's three and a half weeks ago, headed for the 'BEGIN ROUTE 66' sign on the corner of Michigan and Adams, he gave us a sheet of adhesive silver stars to take with us in case we wanted to them as leave a little traces of our passing. To mark the beginning of our journey, I climbed up the pole of the sign and left a star to punctuate BEGIN. This evening as we parked under the 'END ROUTE 66' at Michigan and Jackson, Helen climbed up the pole and gracefully punctuated END. After she got back in the car I looked over and noticed tears trickling down her face and almost cried myself, thinking, 'yes, its over now...' and then she informed me that she had an eyelash poking in her eye and I felt foolish at being so sentimental. Helen shouts across the room that she has written about our meetings with the Funks, which is good, as it deserves an entire chapter to itself, far more than I in my reduced state am capable of at this moment. There is so much more I could say. And will. This web site and this journey are only the beginnings of further writings and projects. As I watched Helen shimmy up the pole to place that silver star on the END sign post, I couldn't help thinking, you know, if we turned the corner to the next street, to Adams, we could start the whole thing over... |
|||||
|
|||||