Throughout our drive from Indianapolis to New Orleans and back again, my wife took pics of each major metropolis as we passed through them. During our walks and our detours we found a few other neat vantage points that let us gaze upon these cities and wonder if the life bustling along their streets is that much different from our own. In most cases probably, but it was fun to contemplate.
Previously on Midlife Crisis Crossover:
This year’s trip began as a simple idea: visit ostensibly scenic New Orleans. Indianapolis to New Orleans is a fourteen-hour drive. Between our workplace demands and other assorted personal needs, we negotiated a narrow seven-day time frame to travel there and back again. We researched numerous possible routes, cities, and towns to visit along the way in Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, and Mississippi. We came up with a long, deep list of potential stops, but tried to leave room for improvisation…
Retracing our mileage through those man-made panoramas in chronological order:
After seven days on the road, a week of sweltering heat and very little precipitation and no signs of surging hurricanes whatsoever…then we reentered Indiana to this discouraging, cosmically ironic sight.
So the very last hour on the very last day of our 2015 road trip gave us the scariest moments of all. We’d braved New Orleans without being murdered by all the roving murderers that the travel books told us were out for blood after every sundown. We’d endured face-melting temperatures in the French Quarter and in shade-free Montgomery. We’d avoided street scammers, didn’t have our rental car stolen, witnessed zero outbursts of mob violence, and kept our mouths shut and our manners polite at every single Confederacy hot spot. All those safety measures taken, but leave it to our home state to be the one that actively tries to kill us.
My white-knuckle driving saw us through the long, dense maelstrom, but wiped out the last of my energy reserves. We celebrated our survival and our return home in a manner befitting a couple trying to transition back to humdrum everyday life: we grabbed dinner from the McDonald’s drive-thru closest to our house. We were a long, depressing distance from the New Orleans seafood scene, but we were home at last.
In tribute to our New Orleans experience, a couple weeks later I signed up for SiriusXM just so I could get steady fixes of jazz in my car and maybe learn a little about the several decades’ worth of music I’ve been missing.
To be continued. Next time: outtakes!
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