This is the furthest west I have ever been.

I am in Omaha, Nebraska, which - at night - is basically indistinguishable from any other major midwestern city. The drive has been good. My father and I talked the whole way, covering topics from the physics of engines to economic/political ideologies to sordid family history. (Did I ever mention that apparently, my biological mother was a bit of a whore? She apparently even cheated on my father with his brother, which explains why my aunt hated her so much.)

Anyhoo, the plan is to awaken bright and early and finish the trek to Salt Lake City, which is about, I think, 10 hours. Okay, I need some sleep. I'll check in sometime tomorrow. Until then, remember kids - do your homework in the dark and eat your cereal with a fork. (Yeah, Pump Up the Volume, ftw!)

Voice Post

The lake is made of salt.

I have arrived in the Great Salt Lake. Okay, actually, I'm in the city surrounding the lake. We pop out of a series of winding mountainous roads a suddenly the whole city looms ahead.

I'm skipping dinner and going to sleep right away. My hotel is great and I'll partake of their deluxe breakfast. After breakfast tomorrow, I can't eat until after my surgery on Monday.

Although driving so many hours has been wearing, it's been good. The country here is beautiful. Catching up with my dad has been good. I've gotten to hear what the first few years of my life were like; I filled him in on some of my exploits as a teen he never knew (the sit-in, the suspensions, the school board meetings, the underground newspaper...) It's been revealing and healthy.

Sleep beckons, dear reader.