A Freeway Runs Through It

Walked into a bar with my sister, her husband, and my Dad (well, we met him there). All these people in cowboy boots and hats, big-buckled belts,and clean, crisp clothes were line dancing and doing the two step. We had to wait for a space in the undulating crowd to zip through to the bar. Who'd a thought it? But then a gain: Cattle raisin', Cowtown, with the stock auctions and rodeo, 4-H. The sort of think you would see in Wisconsin...makes sense. Here is a link with some photos of Cowtown. http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattron/tags/cowtown/

View up Delaware River from Penn Beach. Delaware Memorial Bridge from Pennsville, NJ Just had the best tuna sub ever. It was frickin' HUGE! South Jersey has the best subs. Topped it off with pack of Tasty Kake Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes. My sister and I just came from visiting our ex-stepmother who used to beat me with a coathanger (among other things). She lives in a run down rusted trailer out in the sticks. The living room was piled with junk. An overturned chair. The only open space was a walkway toward the hallway and an area around an old beat up recliner and the space between that and an old color TV with soap operas on. Kitchen counters and sink filled with dirty dishes. After climbing up the aluminum steps, my stepmother opened the front door and we were greeted by a little white poodle with cataracts wearing a black sweater. Surveying the scene I felt sad. Here was the person who used to beat the crap outta me living alone and in squalor. She still seems to love my fathe...

My Dad at Fort Mott, in Salem County, NJ. Sitting in my Dad's living room here in Pennsville, New Jersey. Went to Cow Town yesterday. It's a big flea market, more like a giant dollar store, with vendors set up in stalls inside what used to be big, long cattle barns. Outside you can find more used stuff and antiques and collectables. There is also a regular animal (stock?) auction, and the Cow Town Rodeo, which I believe used to be on local television when I was a kid. "Cow Town: Often Imitated, Never Equaled." Oh, and they have the best hot italian sausage sandwiches with grilled onions and tomato sauce at a few stands, "Eat with the Millers!" the sign demands in bold red letters. Reminds me of being a kid when my stepmother used to be a vendor there.

Industrial deconstruction, Pennsylvania. Train to D.C.. The mountains of Pennsylvania, Ohio, West Virginia and Maryland. The poverty of Appalachia. Old crumbling factories. Ramshackle houses, some falling in on themselves replaced by faded trailer homes; yards filled with rusted out automobile carcasses and appliances; embankments strewn with trash by the tracks; catatonic towns with rundown wooden houses and empty storefronts; a burned out, derelict cinderblock building; rows of rabbit hutches beside mud splattered ATVs. Detritus of the American dream.