Nice to Meet You. I Like Your RV!

Good Morning Megan,

Such a joy meeting you this morning in the Golden Corral parking lot — My hubby (Earl) and I are here to celebrate our 45th high school reunion – We met in the 9th grade and after 44 years of marriage it’s great to see old friends and family this weekend. When this book is published I want a signed copy — “Marjorie”

Hugs and blessings to you and may Our Lord Bless You.

Earl & Marjorie

Peter 5:7

May 22, 2015

Megan,

Truly a random visit!

Earl

W.E. Ham

I was man-ing a community garage sale booth (I am trying to declutter my life so I can focus on what really matters — family, book projects, and art, plus I am bit of a hoarder as you must know I have all my journals) at the Golden Corral this morning and a couple perused the lone three parking lot booths. They smiled and walked towards the big grey RV that was parked at the end of the parking lot. I had noticed the RV as I have many of my own memories of traveling in an RV as a child. We spent many summers in our RV traveling.

I said hello and asked them if it was their RV.  I struck up a conversation with the couple and learned they were back in town for their 45th high school reunion. They met when in the 9th grade and still are clearly in love. Earl told me he went to Northwestern and majored in mechanical engineering. Marjorie shared she grew up on a farm in Eastern North Carolina. People are so darn interesting. That is my favorite part of the journal as it is a way to meet people and talk to strangers.  I asked them to sign the journal and explained the three rules. Marjorie paged through the book and commented she liked the yellow butterfly. And that is the page she signed on, as did Earl.

Everyone has a story! What’s your’s?

Marjorie and Earl

Marjorie and MemoMuse (Meg) in RV

MemoMuse (Meg) in front of Marjorie and Earl’s RV. I grew up RVing. KOA anyone?

Photo shoot of Marjorie and Earl page in The Original Journal.

Original Journal photo shoot

This Kind Old Bus

This Kind Old Bus…

This kind old bus what a beautiful site with black smoke rolling around the tail lights.

From Maine to Wyoming in a single bound on seats too close 3 feet from the ground all for a small fee of 169. Don’t figure we talk of a plane or even a train but decided to take the dammed old bus! And leave the driving to them.

— Bill Maxfield

Newport, ME

I’mon this bus

Leaving everything behind

Going from Canada to home

Omaha is so friendly and kind

I meet this girl

So sweet & fine

You say I must write in your book

You rekindled my thoughts that

There are still some good ones left

I hope your trip is a safe & happy one

— Kevin Block

Council Bluffs, IA

From The Greyhound Journal (traveling from Boston to Cheyenne in August 25-28, 2000)

See this post, The Life of a Journal, for context of trip.

The Life of a Journal

Photo of Dan from England signing the Greyhound Journal at a layover in Nebraska.

This is a then and now post. I scanned in the photo of Dan from England signing the exact page you see in scan. You can see the black page in the photo that is on the right. I wrote that in white chalk, “Love heals hate.”

Dan from England wrote:

Dan from England…

This bus trip is possibly the most insipid, nightmarishly boring journey I’ve ever encountered.

I feel that journals are so important as they allow us to take notes on our lives. It is a snapshot and time capsule into the past. I am looking at this journal 15 years after this Greyhound Bus trip and can connect through simple handwriting the emotions and circumstances of that instant.

I’ll continue with a post tomorrow about the green page that is poking through, behind the black page. The green page is a pocket page and inside the pocket is loose-leaf paper which has other signatures on it, but also some journal entries from me. One of which reads:

I’m sitting behind a spoiled snotty, 18 year old. He keeps moving the seat back-n-forth. He throws a silent tantrum if anything is near him. Clearly, he annoys me.

I usually write in cursive in my journals, but the above is written in slanted print, showing the frustrated emotion of the moment — one moment of many in late August of 2000 when I found myself traveling from Boston to Wyoming, bound for home. I had no money and had spent what I earned as a camp counselor at a summer camp in Vermont. I was so lost, without any hope for the future, but traveling home, where I needed to be. Traveling is such an interesting exercise in humility. I had no idea what I needed to do next. I had a college degree, four years of teaching experience under my belt, yet — I did not know where or what I needed to do next. So I went home.

Somehow, without any money in my pocket and barely enough money on my credit card, I was able to buy a bus ticket — one way from Boston to Cheyenne, Wyoming. When I got home, my father picked me up. He didn’t waste anytime in telling me my mom was sick. Soon I would learn she had brain tumors that were diagnosed in September.

I was one of many traveling West on that bus from Boston. So many stories and layers, shared in moments written on a page in a young girl’s journal. The Greyhound Journal is one of my favorite Original Journals. I passed it around the bus, tapping on the shoulder of the annoying boy who sat in front of me with a note written on the front cover that said:

To: Fellow Greyhound Travelers.

I need you to help me. I am a writer writing a book about Greyhound, buses, modes of transportation, the road, etc. But I would like to know your story.”

Front Cover of Greyhound Journal (Boston to Cheyenne)

I wonder where the 18 year old who threw silent tantrums signed the journal and what he said. I believe he scoffed at me though and added a dramatic sigh and passed it forward.

To be continued…

Jen from Jersey

Jen from Jersey, from “The Greyhound Journal”

Well I must be crazy for doing this 70 hour trip again but its worth it. Theres no shortage of strange people and stories. It’s about hour 56 for me right now and so I can barely think but Ill be sure to send along some stories of the rest of my trip including Truth or Consequences.

Traveling is a very cool thing — seeing new places, meeting new people. Its all good.

Later

Jen from Jersey

Cricket

This journal (The Greyhound Journal) was passed around a Greyhound bus going from Wyoming to San Bernardino, California. 29 hour trip.

Meet Cricket, one of the many Greyhound Journal OJ signers.  Happy St. Patrick’s Day from The Original Journal. Be safe. Call cab. Call a friend. Walk. My dad, a true Irishman, always said, “Amateur drinkers are out on St. Patrick’s Day and New Year’s Eve. It’s not a safe night out to be driving.”

From “The Greyhound Journal”

FUN IS…

FUN IS GETTING A PACK OF SMOKES, ENDING UP IN RANDOM PLACES, MEETING INTERESTING PEOPLE, AND EATING. EATING IS FUN AND FISHING…

– R-DICK DIME

Circles of Life

Schrijver

Schrijver means writer in Dutch.  This is a page from The Holland Journal.  Someone I had met in Holland (back in 2000) recently got in touch with me via email. An excerpt below from the recent email:

            One evening a friend (Cathelijne) and I decided to hang out in the Irish pub.                     Soon we started talking with this nice girl, Megan, carrying a notebook. She told             us that she was from the United States and was traveling through Europe and                 the Netherlands and for some reasons I do not remember anymore about why                 she visited Groningen that day. See was curious about our lives, the                               Netherlands and the city of Groningen.

            It is a weird thing that for reasons unknown and at times you least expect it you               meet people you never forget. It is that magical thing that makes some people                 and some events more special than others. I remember we liked the girl and                   decided to take her on tour in the night life of Groningen. It became a great                     night. We visited many bars, had many, many dances and had a lot, lot, lot of                 fun together. It was so to say legen, wait for it, dary (to quote Barney from the                 sitcom How I Met Your Mother).

           I remember that it was already early the next morning when I walked the girl                    back to her hotel. I remember me and her talking about her dream to write a                    book about her travels and about the poetry see sometimes wrote. Since she                  had to travel back further (I think even back to the States) the next day we                      decided to exchange e-mail addresses and keep in touch and maybe, who                      knows, meet again somewhere.

          Do you remember?

          Is it weird to reply to a 14 year old e-mail (and spam it to all other addresses I                 could find of you)? Yes, it definitely is but my curiosity wins it over the chance                 you do not like it or do not remember so here is my reply. I hope that you                         receive it, read it and maybe reply again and answer the questions. How are                   you, are you well and do you remember? …. I do…

We had kept in touch briefly by email in 2000 and life faded into life for both of us on separate continents.

I often thought of this person wondering what happened to him.  So interesting when life comes full circle. For me, 14 years later, he remembered the girl with the journal who asked people to sign it.  He could very well be the person who wrote “Schrijver” in the journal. I love this page of the journal. There is a coffee stained poem written on the back.

2-13-00

Walking

Strolling along in

Amsterdam along

A canal lined street

2 young girls scream

In fun, “Halo” to fellow Sunday

strollers.

Little Girl amusement sings

in their shirts

I ask to take their picture

and they say cheese with

innocent gaiety.

As I walk away on of the

girls says, “Touriste.”

I say “Watch it…no

touriste…artiste.”

               ***

There is a quiet hum

Now as I sit on green

Steps. My yellow backpack

Blends in so

And I share a moment

With grace.

Fun Is…

“Fun is getting a pack of smokes, ending up in random places, meeting interesting people and eating. Eating is fun. And fishing.”
— R-Dick Dime
1998
From the Turquoise Snake Journal

Turquoise Snake Journal cover (Front Door)