362 Miles to Glory--- Peace of Mind

January 5, 2006

BENSON, AZ-  Welcome to Arizona, or as I like to call it, ‘The Land that Grass Forgot’. I’ve been in the south entirely too long.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve driven for 10 hours straight and never seen a single tree or random cow pasture. Thankfully Interstate-10 has a few dead animals in the road so the freeway still has a bit of “southern flava”.

About two hours south of Phoenix is where we are today, Stopping for gas.

 There’s a certain peace of mind that comes over you when the gas pump speeds past $100 in an attempt to fill up your truck.  It’s funny how we as a people will act a fool if something is slightly overpriced but if it’s RIDICULOUSLY overpriced we’ll kind of accept it.

Kinda how if a soda machine in the hotel wants $2 for a soda you’ll frown upon it. But if you go to a sporting even of the movies, that same soda is $5. I guess the difference is that when you go to the movies you’re already expecting to be screwed. At the hotel you were probably expecting a .75 cent / $1 soda so the $2 pissed you off.

Maybe the problem lies in my expectations. I wasn't expecting the usual $40 fill-up but I also wasn't expecting to break $100.

That’s why I’ve always gotten a kick out of people who eat at restaurants that don’t put prices on the menu. How gangsta is that? You order something and you have no idea what it’s going to cost you. You just know it’s going to be expensive. Maybe the problem is that I'm not rich. Rich people don't seem to have same worries as regular middle class people.

When I look at a restaurant menu I first look at the prices and THEN I look at the corresponding food that matches the price. The prices on a menu dictate what I have a taste for, not my natural cravings.

I’d rather not know that it takes $108 to fill up a 24-foot U-haul when it only has a quarter of a tank of gas left. After the gas pump passes $50 the display screen should just go blank leaving you oblivious to exactly how much you’re being screwed over.

 I’ve somehow managed to break the battery charger to my laptop so I’ll have to keep this one short and go reply to some e-mails before my battery dies. 

362 to go.

 Seacrest Out.

 Wood, Jr.