There were plenty of attractions I anticipated while planning for this road trip, one high on the list was Route 66.  In case you have little knowledge of the US, I will let you know that Route 66 was THE way to travel cross country before interstates.  Nicknamed “Main Street of America”, it was a simple two lane highway running from Chicago to Los Angeles.  Our first overnight stop in New Mexico was the town of Gallup, where Route 66 is still in tact.  Gallup seems to be the town where movie stars in the mid-twentieth century went to play.  A specific destination was the El Rancho Hotel.

The interior of the hotel is decorated with the old west in mind.  Covering the walls are pictures of actors your parents went to the theater and paid a quarter to watch in movies on Saturday afternoons.  Among them, John Wayne, Humphrey Bogart, Jack Benny, and our nations 40th president and my father’s hero, Ronald Reagan.

The restaurant in the hotel names it’s meals after the stars who visited the location.  The Ronald Reagan was a cheeseburger with a side of Jelly Beans.  This, of course, thrilled The Max and of course his dinner choice was made easily.

Mr. Pilver and I chose Mexican dishes.  I am a lukewarm fan of Mexican food, mostly for the fact that Mexican food in the northern part of the US is typically horrible imitations built with the contents of canned beans and chilies.  This was such a fantastic change from what I find here.  The food was amazing.

What I really wanted to see on Route 66 were the vintage motel signs.  When I was a kid, and my parents would shove my sisters and I into a car or camper and drive us all over the country, we often would stay at these motor inns with doors leading to the parking lot as opposed to the safety of an enclosed hallway.  I didn’t get the chance to photograph them until the next morning, so I was unable to see them lit up in all their splendor, but I loved what I saw regardless.

I could post seventy-bajillion more photos of motels, but for the few of you who have continued reading this far, I will attempt and keep your attention with this final amazing find.

Half a dozen years back, I bought a print at Ikea.  I love this picture more than I should.  The Max took to it with a purple sharpie and colored some for his own enjoyment and I was furious.  I told him that until he moved out of the house that picture would remain hanging on his wall as punishment.  It’s not really a punishment, but it’s all I could think of at the time.

The title of the photo is Albuquerque, 1969. On our last day in New Mexico, we swung through the city searching for this very location.  While we did find it, the artist, Ernst Haas, must have used a special lens because there was no way we were able to squeeze as much of the scenery into the frame as he did.  Here is one photo where you can see a few of the buildings and signs still standing.

Every time I go on a vacation, I try to decide which of the cities I’ve visited would be my favorite to relocate. Albuquerque wins hands down.  It’s a fairly large city, with nearly 600,000 citizens.  However, it is also very open and getting from the heart of downtown to the stark desert is a thirty minute drive by car.

That’s all I am going to say about Route 66.  I am home now, and typically I write at road trip blogs while on the road, but lack of wifi stalled this tradition.  I have a few more posts to share as we also saw wonderful things like Roswell, The Grand Canyon, and the greatest coffee shop in the west!

Friday, April 1st, 2011 at approximately four in the afternoon we kicked off our first official Pilver Family of Three road trip.  It’s been nearly two years since I have driven cross country and the nomadic strands of my DNA were jonesing for a fix.

Our destination is warmth.  I studied a map until I found the warmest place we could easily travel in the allotted time frame.  I chose Mexico.  Mexico was an awful choice being that I lack a passport and the cities nearest for driving are not always the best for tourism.  So, we decided New Mexico was a just-as-good second choice.

On our first day we drove and drove and did nothing else and saw nothing fun.  Day two was more eventful, beginning with a memorable breakfast at the Buffalo Cafe in Twin Falls, Idaho.  Pregnancy has left me with bizarre eating habits.  Every couple hours I am starving to the point I must eat so I do not become physically ill.  However, once I sit down to eat I fill up after roughly thirteen small bites.  But this doesn’t mean I am done.  Sipping  on a glass of water for fifteen minutes rejuvenates my appetite and thirteen more bites are taken.  This pattern repeats until I feel I am actually full, or The Max grows too wild for a restaurant atmosphere.  The Buffalo Cafe was a great place to eat in this manner.  We ordered four different plates between us and with the exception of the small amount saved for our patiently waiting in the car dog, we ate it all.

After Idaho, comes Nevada.  With Nevada, comes gambling.   The bordering town is called Jackpot and nobody lives there.  In Jackpot are a handful of restaurants, a few gas stations, and many many casinos.  It’s as though the people of Idaho cannot WAIT to gamble so they build the things as near to them as legally possible.

Yesterday was important, because I saw something that has haunted me since I was eleven years old.  After entering Utah, the Bonneville Salt Flats begin almost immediately.  When I was there two decades ago I remembered this crazy statue in the middle of nothing but salt.  While I remembered it clearly, my memory was plauged with doubts that the structure couldn’t possible exsist because it was placed in such a desolate location that it must have only been a mirage.  Yesterday I took a picture of it, and it has a name.  I would like to present to you, Metaphor: The Tree of Utah!

The last time I was here, there was not a barbed wire fence surrounding the statue and I clearly remember climbing all over the base.  I’m a little upset that I could not recreate that memory though viewing the structure once again was well worth the two hours we took out of our way so I could make sure it was real.

I photographed many more things, and someday I am going to show you those things.  Now, I am going to sleep.

Yes, it is true.  I figured April Fools Day was the ideal occasion to announce my fetus to the world! Myself, Mr. Pilver, and The Max are all excited about our new family member.  Mr. Pilver named it Gumdrop because we would rather not call it…It.

This is a picture of a smear.  But, it’s MY smear.  My doctor assured me that everything looks great.  I haven’t been pregnant for ten long years.  When I was carrying The Max I couldn’t understand the concept of a difficult pregnancy.   I worked 40 hours a week, walked three miles a day, and felt better than I ever had.  When we decided to have more kids, I bragged to Mr Pilver how I was the perfect preggo lady.  I lied.

I have spent every day of the past month sicker than the day before. No foods smell good, taste good, or calm my stomach in any way.  I have a stack of books that assure me it ends by the middle of pregnancy, usually.

Beyond the sickness I’m tired pretty much all the time.  I can take a nap at nine in the morning after waking up at seven after a night of ten hours sleep. I’m basically hungover, without experiencing fun the night before.

Now that I have successfully complained, let me tell you all the less depressing details.  I am due in the fall.  I don’t want to say my exact date, because Gumdrop will not come  on my due date.  My best guess as to when Gumdrop will come is late October.  I’m really hoping for a Halloween baby.  We will be having the sex of the baby be a surprise, but we will choose to be surprised at the ultrasound instead of on the day of birth.  I want to name Gumdrop something else already, especially being as my baby is already larger than  a Gumdrop.

I’m showing a bit, but most people probably just think I packed on a few pounds.    Gumdrop’s not that big, but apparently the excess progesterone in my system is causing a faux beer belly.  I won’t be able to hide it much longer at work, though I don’t doubt my co-workers are suspicious being as I have been eating crackers non-stop and my belly is starting to push past my apron.

The best part of finding out you are pregnant is being able to tell other people.  I decided a public bathroom was the most ideal place to pee on a stick.  I shoved the  test into my coat pocket, ran to my car, and watched as two pretty little pink lines appeared in the result window.  First I called Mr. Pilver and sobbed through my words so severely he couldn’t really understand what I was saying.  I told my sisters and parents afterward, still sitting in the parking lot.  I waited a bit to tell The Max.

Two short years ago, Max and I were living alone in the city several states away.  While I would have loved more kids and to be married, I never expected it to happen.  After moving, introducing a step-father into Max’s life and taking him from an urban setting to the epitome of country living I was hesitant to drop another bomb on his life.

Finally, after a couple weeks of telling Max I was too sick to play I felt I couldn’t hide it any longer.  I sat him down and cried the whole time I spoke.  He cried as well and smiled big saying he couldn’t wait to be a big brother.

So, I’m having a baby.  I feel very lucky and blessed.  I’m going to go yak now.

PS- Vacation starts TODAY!!!

I have none.

Every month I receive an email from a blog posting idea boosting site.  I rarely if ever think about using the ideas given to me.  I don’t disregard the suggestions because I think they are invaluable, but I do think I will have difficulty sticking to a theme for an entire month.  March’s theme is “In a word.”  I didn’t read the description of the theme, so I will make up my own.  Also, I will not stick to this for the month maybe even past today.

In a word, to me, will mean having a word of the day.  I remember watching Pee-Wee’s Playhouse as a kid and he would always have the word of the day.   If it was mentioned by one of the playhouse gang, I would of course, scream along with the characters.   One time, I spent a Friday night at my friend’s house.  We sat on the carpet of her family room with her brothers and sisters the next morning with a bowl of cereal and watched Pee-Wee’s Playhouse.  When the word of the day was said, naturally, I screamed, “AHHHHHHHH!”  along with everybody else in Playhouse land.  In real life land, they looked at me as I was crazy.  Apparently not all children took Pee-Wee’s instructions to heart.

Anyhow, today’s word is:  Friend.

I haven’t lived in one place very long at any point of my life.  This has resulted in tons of acquaintances and very few life long friends.  I think of the latter as those people who you can see after many months or years and continue on in conversation as though not a day has passed.  I like those people.

You don’t have to scream if you hear the word friend today.  But if you do, I will high five you.

This was Max in Kindergarten.  He won’t stop growing, as I have requested.

Yessssss!   Max came home today singing a song he’d written.  He decided he needed to write down the lyrics and preform it for Mr. Pilver and I after dinner tonight.  Unfortunately, he’d written two lines into the song that I had to say.  I think I take away from the experience.  See for yourself:

Let’s look at this holiday from the point of view of a stalker.  Stalking being the talented art form, completely misunderstood by the masses. What would a stalker do for their love?  I suppose first you have to understand whether the stalking is done anonymously.  If that is the case a box of chocolates or bouquet of flowers left behind would be locked doors with a secret admirer card is in order.  An out in the open stalker should burst into the home of their love and make an explosive statement with pigs blood spelling out their feelings across a tattered t-shirt.  In either case the card given ought to include special photoshopped images of the two in a loving embrace.  Just once I want to see someone who is being stalked take up their stalker on the offer of love.  What would happen?  Will we ever know?

Happy Valentine’s Day Pilver readers!  Smell flowers, eat chocolates, and re-arrange the photos in that shrine you’ve erected for that special someone not yet in your life.

Hope is the feeling

that the feeling you have

isn’t permanent.

The 1990’s boasted some great films.  We cannot think of the 90’s cinema without thinking of Titanic, the epic drama where Celine Dion beat her fist on her chest for three hours straight.  In all truth, long after Kate Winslet’s heart went on and on we still were having to put up with the Canadian diva’s anthem for those with long lost loves.  I saw the movie at a midnight showing with a dozen or so of my friends at the conservative Christian college I was attending at the time. The guys we went with debated a long time before the show on whether or not they would close their eyes when Winslet undressed.  In the end two of them peeked at her naked parts and concluded that the scene was artistically shot.

Another big movie was Braveheart.  I love Braveheart because Mel Gibson is exactly like my father (minus all the arrests and racial slurs.)  It’s also my father’s favorite movie.  He has it memorized.  He also, and forgive me if I have previously mentioned this, will yell FREEDOOOOM! at random times.  In high school it was embarrassing, but I suspect when he is old and senile, it will be a welcome treat for his care givers who I’m sure love a good laugh.

Toy Story was huge and computer animated movies erupted.  Family movies like Jurassic Park, Home Alone, and Mrs. Doubtfire sold millions of tickets.    Men in Black, Armageddon, and Terminator 2 were among the big action flicks. But what I really loved in the 1990’s was the plethora of awful and wonderful teen and Gen-X movies pumping out of Hollywood at record speed.  A few films that strove to define generation X were Reality Bites and Clerks and Empire Records.

Reality Bites asked us to take a good long, cynical look at things of pop culture, ie MTV.  As four friends moved from college life to real life they were apologetically aiming to define themselves socially.  Ethan Hawk was the genius slacker who had a rough life and carried a damn-the-man chip on his shoulder. Jeneane Garofalo worked at The Gap, ironically, while sporting 70’s fashion and a stoner’s lifestyle outside the mall. Steve Zahn was gay, sensitive and understood the girls in the film better than straight Ethan Hawk could.  And dear sweet Winona Ryder went from over achieving valedictorian to pajama wearing psychic calling lazy girl and back over the course of ninety minutes.  She had an anti-corporate creed as well, but Winona still needed to feel as a productive member of society.

Clerks was golden.  Kevin Smith filmed a movie at a convenient store with his friends and it actually made sense and contained real humor.  The characters in this film would have looked ridiculous on a regular movie set because they were not glossy.  Smith followed the film with several more over the next decade and a half, possibly ending with Clerks II.  If there was an awards show for worst sequels, Clerks II should win every category.  It did not work.  Clerks ended on the day it began.  Re-visiting the characters was a pointless mess.

Empire Records was a movie about the job every teen in America wanted to obtain.  An indie record store with attractive people and a cool boss where you seemed to be able to do anything you wanted including shaving your head on the clock, eating pot brownies, and gluing coins to the floor.  A couple years after watching this movie I was working at a coffee shop in a mall kiosk and I as well glued coins to the floor.  The maintenance crew wanted to have a word with me after that prank, but watching mall walkers attempt to pick up securely fastened pennies was enough entertainment to weigh against the stern talking to I received.  Warren, the shoplifter was my favorite part of ER.  His comedic cluelessness provided relief when we were oh so concerned about Renee Zellweger’s sex addiction and Liv Tyler’s speed problem.  Oh, and Ethan Embry starred in the film.  He was dreamy.

The last group of movies I need to address when thinking of the 90’s are those high school comedy’s and horror movies that jump started and ended the careers of actors like Freddie Prince Jr, Alicia Silverstone, and nearly everyone in the American Pie cast.

First, there’s Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer.  Both movies had sequels.  Both movies had large breasted barely dressed young girls running from bad guys with blood thirsts.  I cannot say I hated these movies, but horror flicks aren’t my thing so you can tell me how they add up and I’ll take your word.

Then, the comedies.  Bright clothing, pop music soundtracks, and at least one character overcoming the pressures of popularity and make-up.  Clueless was my favorite in this category.   I remember wondering if I would ever be able to afford a cell phone like the rich kids in the movie.  And oh, how I longed to have the plaid skirts and baby tees that Silverstone sported in this Shakespeare remake.  I did buy a few similar outfits.  Problem was, I’d toss one of my signature flannel shirts over the dainty clothing and somehow I don’t think I got the same reaction.

These were the films I watched in the 90’s.  I think I watched every movie in this decade.  I know I left out many of the best Oscar winning titles.  Thing is, those were timeless movies.  Shawshake Redemption could have been made last year and been just as good.  These films were good in the 90’s and would have needed to be altered dramatically to have been great in any other era.  Now tell me your favorite 90’s movie.

It’s 2011.  We are officially two decades past the 90’s.  I feel it is finally acceptable for me to miss the 1990’s.  The 90’s brought us so much, in a whirlwind.  Music drastically changed.  Technology drastically changed.  Fashion, television, what have you.  It all changed.  It changed quickly.

I was 11 years old when 1990 began and I was 21 when the decade ended.  My youth was influenced by these great ten years.  I have a handful of blogs in the next few days dedicated to the 1990’s.

Get ready for grunge, flannel and 90210.  I’m excited.

Me, in 1995. The middle of the greatest decade in the ugliest softball uniform ever.