Westward Hoes!

Elisabeth Boonin

• 3 min read

Before we'd even started on our eastbound trip (aka "The Long Goodbye"), we'd decided that the return voyage would be called Westward Hoes.  I'm only now trying to figure out the plural of ho, however. Seems like the "e" is more common.  However, Sara is arguing with tremendous vigor for the spelling "hos," She worries that the reader will interpret "hoes" as a plural of a garden implement. I am more inclined to trust the reader to get it. That being said, people continue to disappoint me in what they "get." And, Sara is amazing and smart, but also unique.... shall we call her a unicorn?

Sara is cooking dinner as I write this. I said, "I'm blogging about you, calling you a unicorn." She asks "Is that one of those trans things?" I'm not sure what that means. 

I was a slacker yesterday and didn't document any part of our trip. We're now in Adair Iowa, at another really great rest area enjoying another beautiful sunset. Sara and I figured the return trip would take longer, but these hoes are booking! Two days in and we're on track for the same schedule– 5 days coast to coast– seems like we might roll in to home sweet home on Friday. But we're not going to push and we have to allow for a couple of days of incarceration in Wyoming if we run into the same state trooper.

I feel vaguely guilty for not tuning into the news more.  I know there's crazy shit going on out there but it seems like getting across the country is the most I can handle. We were listening to the audiobook of Lonesome Dove yesterday. The RV makes a LOT of noise and we were kind of blaring it on the speakers to hear it and we got an emergency alert about exit closures in Cleveland due to curfew restrictions.  On the interstate, there aren't protests, just stretches of good and bad pavement, and the occasional aggro trucker crawling up our ass when we tried to pass someone else. We see lots of "Stop covid" highway signs and avert our eyes when we pass a "Trump 2020" sign. I was immensely proud of my high-school aged niece Emi for participating in a peaceful protest march today, but due to intermittent connectivity the time between hearing she'd left her high school for the march and hearing she'd returned safely before Oakland curfew was approximately 7 minutes. Time compress and expands. We're measuring our progress in tanks of gas and driving shifts.

I spent way too long at an Illinois gas station trying to figure out if I could pay at the pump while it was still light out

But even on our trip, the polarization of the country is palpable. We're at this super groovy rest stop right now. There's an impossibly tall windmill blade on display here in Adair Iowa, along with various placards describing wind power. I look up reviews for our rest stops before we commit for the night and this one has rave reviews from some, but is panned by others for glorifying wind power. Quote from a reviewer: "I like fossil fuels!"  (And admittedly, I'm a fan of the Sinclair Dinosaur!")

C'mon, that's a big, awesome windmill blade.... can't we like fossil fuels AND windmills? Sara is stalking off into the sunset protesting me on my computer when she's cooked me a great dinner.

OK, Dinner is being served on the dinette & we've got Good Wife reruns to get through... duty calls.  My brother Sam just texted me some helpful info about the plural of ho. I'm sticking with hoes no matter what.  Sleep well, everyone. I hope our generator isn't bothering you.