Reconstructed Notes from a Journal: 8/21/01

We were on I-80 heading from Nevada to San Fransisco. We decided to stop in Reno a few hours before sunrise. It's the worst place on earth, worse than Newark. We parked at an Exxon and took three pills to stay awake and two to stay calm. A bucktoothed woman asked us to buy her a drink.

"Why not?" I thought, but she already moved on. Three beers and a pack of cigarettes for $10, and all the slots in the world to watch.

Of all things, I don't know why I thought about Aquino's death anniversary. Shot in the back of the head as he was exiting a plane 18 years ago. His speech was still in his front pocket: "I have often wondered how many disputes could have been settled easily had the disputants only dared to define their terms..."

I knew my endorphins were sinking to a new low, but that was fine as long as I could stay awake. A cop waved us over at a tollbooth between Nevada and California. I pushed the empty bottles under the seat as John rolled the window down.

"Transporting any fruits or vegtables?"

"No sir."

"Move on."

It was a beautiful morning, one of those small things, undeserved, that stays with you a long time.