For the last time…
Go West! Life is peaceful there.
Go West! In the open air.
Go West! Where the skies are blue.
Go West! This is what we're gonna do.
-The Village People
And it feels like I've got something to prove,
But in some ways it's just something to do.
My friends turn me around and say,
"You go west, young man."
-Liz Phair
We wanted to go away for Labor Day.
Doesn't everybody?
We wanted to drive.
We picked Lando as the preferred method of transport because air travel is annoying and expensive, not because of any fears of terrorists or snakes.
The maximum driving limit is around eight hours.
It translates to: an hour an a half of normal, happy driving; an hour of cranky, whiny driving; a half hour of get-me-the-hell-out-of-this-car; stop for lunch; repeat.
We wanted to go someplace we haven't been before.
Last year, we went to Maine together, so we've pretty much exhausted all of our options to the north. And we've pretty much been everywhere within our driving radius to the south with our respective families. So, as Ms. Phair, Monsieurs Village People, and countless Oregon Trail champs have professed: Go West.
And by west, do you by any chance mean Pennsylvania?
Not particularly, but there seems to be a lot of it to the west of us.
I've heard the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame is kinda cool.
Really? Sounds good to me.
And that is pretty much how we decided upon the great city of Cleveland as our vacation destination. So stop asking!
Have a great weekend, everybody!