Getting Ready to Travel

There's not really a whole lot I need to do to prepare for a weekend trip to Kansas, especially when I drive my own car. I only need a couple of clothing changes, and there's enough room in the back of the car that space shouldn't be an issue anyway. The guitar takes up the most space, but everyone knows you can't travel without at least one guitar.

And because Tanner's coming, we'll need room for a keyboard, too. Hmm, maybe there won't be that much extra space after all.

I had hoped to have my dad's family tree and autobiography documents completed, formatted, and edited in time to present them to him on his birthday, but I underestimated the size of the task. They're in pretty good shape, and I've collected a TON of information, but neither document is really ready for publication. I'm hoping that Dad will be able to verbally fill in some of the gaps in the story, and clear up some of the conflicting information.

Other than collecting the suitcase, musical instruments and data files, the prime task is getting the car ready to go. This means removing the tennis racket, sock monkey (don't ask), and various empty water bottles, Gatorade containers, and refillable gas-station drink cups. I'll leave my swimming gear in the car, of course, since I'll be going to swim practice on Friday morning before we leave town. And I've got to make sure there are ice scrapers, spare jackets, and other cold-weather necessities -- it is a trip to Kansas, after all. Then fill 'er up with gas, check the oil, stash away a few cans of Diet Coke (my dad and his wife only drink, ugh, Pepsi), and we're ready to go.

I can't promise any blog entries during the trip; I'm uncertain of Internet access, free time, and how I'll react to the crushing depression that generally accompanies crossing the state line into the "Land of Ahhhs". Lordy. (Let's face it: "Colorful Colorado" may not be the jazziest slogan to put on your state line welcome sign, but when a story about a microcephalic scarecrow, homesick hayseed, and water-soluable conjurer is the sunflower state's only claim to fame, well, you can't really expect Disneyland, can you?)

But it will be good to see the folks. I'll try to take some family photos, and will definitely let you know if anybody has any good stories to tell. In the meantime, if you have close relatives that you haven't talked to in a while, why not give 'em a call?

Have a great day, my friends!