The Rock

During my little excursion to Texas and Arkansas last week I rented a car. I was excited about driving to Arkansas from Dallas because I like to drive, and I never do it anymore. I was also excited because Rascal Flats just came out with their new album, and I knew it would be getting lots of radio play. Since I never drive anymore, I never listen to the radio, so it's nice to have some time to myself to see what's new on the country music circuit. And have I mentioned that it was Texas and there are 10 country stations for every 1 Top 40 station, and that I live in NY where there are 0 country music stations? Lord have mercy, it's like living in another country sometimes. Anyway, I bought the Rascal Flats album last week for my iPod, and by the time I rented the car, I already had their new single memorized, because let's face, it kind of sounds like all of their other songs. And I'm not one of those music memorizing freaks like my friend Leah...it's just that Rascal Flats might need to come up with something a little new...but don't change too much...we don't need another Chris Gaines scenario or anything...just a new little twist of Bluegrass would suit just fine thank you.

Anyway...this little disappointment would be the first of many of my little road trip.

Do you notice the line on the windshield in this picture?

Yep, that's the crack that I got after driving for about 30 minutes. The rock hit the windshield and nothing happened. I looked over that the radio to turn up Keith Urban with his amazing highlights, and looked back at the windshield and noticed a shiny new 4 inch crack. Then it slowly grew over the course of 3 days. I could notice how much it was growing because I was measuring it by how close it was to the bug spatters on the windshield. Because when I got the car from the rental place it was DIRTY. Dirty like it had been down 10 dirt roads in 2 rain storms and driven through the Delta at night dirty. For you Yankees, that means it was covered in spattered mud/dust and had lots of bugs on it. Luckily my credit card has rental car insurance coverage. All I have to do is submit a notarized form stating that I don't have real car insurance because I don't have a car and send in about 50 other documents. And this just made me realize that the whole situation could have been avoided if a.) I had a car of my own, b.) I lived close enough that I could have just driven my own car, and c.) if New York could have been founded anywhere SOUTH of the Mason Dixon line. I realize that a and b are a little more plausible, but with the freezing temperatures of late, I've been wishing for c a lot.

Also, the car was driving horribly rough...later I found out the tire pressure was about half of what it should have been. THANKS FOR WATCHING OUT FOR A LITTLE WOMAN DRIVING TO ANOTHER STATE car rental man! It did get me a discount in the end though...so it wasn't all that bad.

Now go over to BooMama and read about her friend from the South that had to endure the North for awhile. I feel like it sums me up pretty well. All I want to do is hang a seasonal wreath on my door, but I feel like I'm crazy up here! Just read the post and you'll get that. I am not the definition of Southern by any means, but I have a feeling that if hearing the word "y'all" or hearing your friend's child refer to her phalanges as "fangers" can make you almost cry, then it's safe bet you belong where tea is served on ice with lots of sugar, no questions asked.