Day Five
Winston Salem, North Carolina
Remember Pleasantville, the 1998 film where everyone initially saw the world only in black and white?
Color invades 1950s Pleasantville half way through the film as the town and the lives of its citizens become more complicated. The film moves from a simple, drab, sepia landscape to a Kodachrome world full of fear-fueled hope and opportunity.
Pleasantville offers viewers two realities.
We witnessed those two realities today.
Our 715-mile-journey through five southeastern states was on one level a drive though and around Monet’s palette. But our trek was also a gallop through a lifeless land devoid of color, personality and possibility.
Life springs eternal at this time of year. The cherries and dogwoods are in full bloom; the landscape an explosion of pink, white and violet. The fields are a verdant, lush green, covered with pale yellow ground flowers, likely mustard or some other plant I could not identify. In places the moist, brown earth has been turned, awaiting seed, sun and water and a chance to produce new life.
But the landscape is also barren, lifeless.
We raced by miles of silenced road construction projects. Everywhere we saw the ubiquitous orange safety cones and orange and white barrel dividers defining travel lanes. There were sturdy concrete dividers too and admonitions to merge up ahead. And signs warning “reduce speed, fines doubled in construction zones.”
No-one slowed down! There was no need.
There were no people. No workers in hard hats. No flag men or women. No grating sounds of progress.
Heavy equipment, earth movers, cranes, dozers and trucks sat silent, lifeless and unmoving: sculptures or historical monuments to another place, another time.
Perhaps the workers were sheltering in place. Maybe they all called in sick. Or they were off celebrating St. Patrick’s day, beer and whiskey in hand in a time of pandemic. Social distancing.. Or not!
The interstate was busy, cars and trucks hurrying pell mell to destinations unknown. But busy is relative. Busy is not bustling. Last time I drove through Atlanta, the traffic rivaled Boston and Los Angeles. It was bustling, bare-knuckled and moving at a snails pace, if at all.Today we breezed through Atlanta at rush hour at 70 miles per hour, no stopping, no slowdowns.
Onward we drove to Winston Salem.
This is not normal. It is beyond eerie. We have entered an alternative reality, not quite “The Twilight Zone” but “Pleasantville” for sure.
Suddenly terms you hardly ever heard before have become an essential part of our lexicon. Shelter in place. Social distancing. Self quarantine!
They were unimaginable just two weeks ago. Now they are the norm.
An alternative reality.
President Trump wants to give everyone $1,000. As my youngest son said on the phone today “the only way to save capitalism may be to embrace socialism.”
Whose reality is that? Bernie Sanders, maybe Andrew Yang. But Donald Trump?
Life goes on. People and businesses are adapting. The breakfast buffet at our Marriott suites hotel in Mississippi this morning was busy. But it is no longer self service. A sweet woman loaded each diner’s plate with food. I call this new reality “point and plate.”
We are far from home. But we are headed north, no longer fearful we will not make it. We expect there will now be a lockdown. We will be home when it happens.
Oh, our story may make the TV news. I was interviewed today. More on that when we know when it will air.
Finally, the billboard of the day. We saw it in Alabama. It read simply:
“Jesus”
Be safe!
Winston Salem, North Carolina
Remember Pleasantville, the 1998 film where everyone initially saw the world only in black and white?
Color invades 1950s Pleasantville half way through the film as the town and the lives of its citizens become more complicated. The film moves from a simple, drab, sepia landscape to a Kodachrome world full of fear-fueled hope and opportunity.
Pleasantville offers viewers two realities.
We witnessed those two realities today.
Our 715-mile-journey through five southeastern states was on one level a drive though and around Monet’s palette. But our trek was also a gallop through a lifeless land devoid of color, personality and possibility.
Life springs eternal at this time of year. The cherries and dogwoods are in full bloom; the landscape an explosion of pink, white and violet. The fields are a verdant, lush green, covered with pale yellow ground flowers, likely mustard or some other plant I could not identify. In places the moist, brown earth has been turned, awaiting seed, sun and water and a chance to produce new life.
But the landscape is also barren, lifeless.
We raced by miles of silenced road construction projects. Everywhere we saw the ubiquitous orange safety cones and orange and white barrel dividers defining travel lanes. There were sturdy concrete dividers too and admonitions to merge up ahead. And signs warning “reduce speed, fines doubled in construction zones.”
No-one slowed down! There was no need.
There were no people. No workers in hard hats. No flag men or women. No grating sounds of progress.
Heavy equipment, earth movers, cranes, dozers and trucks sat silent, lifeless and unmoving: sculptures or historical monuments to another place, another time.
Perhaps the workers were sheltering in place. Maybe they all called in sick. Or they were off celebrating St. Patrick’s day, beer and whiskey in hand in a time of pandemic. Social distancing.. Or not!
The interstate was busy, cars and trucks hurrying pell mell to destinations unknown. But busy is relative. Busy is not bustling. Last time I drove through Atlanta, the traffic rivaled Boston and Los Angeles. It was bustling, bare-knuckled and moving at a snails pace, if at all.Today we breezed through Atlanta at rush hour at 70 miles per hour, no stopping, no slowdowns.
Onward we drove to Winston Salem.
This is not normal. It is beyond eerie. We have entered an alternative reality, not quite “The Twilight Zone” but “Pleasantville” for sure.
Suddenly terms you hardly ever heard before have become an essential part of our lexicon. Shelter in place. Social distancing. Self quarantine!
They were unimaginable just two weeks ago. Now they are the norm.
An alternative reality.
President Trump wants to give everyone $1,000. As my youngest son said on the phone today “the only way to save capitalism may be to embrace socialism.”
Whose reality is that? Bernie Sanders, maybe Andrew Yang. But Donald Trump?
Life goes on. People and businesses are adapting. The breakfast buffet at our Marriott suites hotel in Mississippi this morning was busy. But it is no longer self service. A sweet woman loaded each diner’s plate with food. I call this new reality “point and plate.”
We are far from home. But we are headed north, no longer fearful we will not make it. We expect there will now be a lockdown. We will be home when it happens.
Oh, our story may make the TV news. I was interviewed today. More on that when we know when it will air.
Finally, the billboard of the day. We saw it in Alabama. It read simply:
“Jesus”
Be safe!
Great stuff, weird times. Hope you make it home safe soon. XXOO (from a distance, of course!)
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