The black Suburban rolled down the highway with the mean rumble of a venerated work vehicle. I raised the cappuccino, which I held in my hand, to my lips and took the first soothing sip. Given the distinctly not stylish clothing being warn by Mike and myself and the rugged “Road Warrior” appearance of our vehicle my choice of a cappuccino, as my early morning sustenance seemed a strange juxtaposition—black coffee would have been the appropriate beverage of such a portrait.
“But this is one of the strange facts about Stan Lerner that even you don’t understand,” I thought to myself. A profoundly civilized man and wild beast doing battle in the same being…I smiled at this thought, not because there was any humor to be found in it, but because it is this type of self-reflection that makes it incumbent on all us to travel the long and winding road of life.
Soon, the sun began its ascent above the horizon—its rays of light pouring over the sea of sand, so many grains—countless as the possibilities before us. The slope of Interstate 10 toward State Line still excites my body and soul, as I’m sure it does most. Funny and comforting to think that as time passes there are still sights that can excite even the most veteran of travelers—albeit now in a comforting way. Comforting, because there is a sense of freedom that comes with being able to move around one’s own country with such a sense of anonymity. And with so many freedoms nearing extinction it’s pleasant to know that there is still one left—I wonder if in the future children will understand what I mean by this. Or will they say, “A long time ago people used to be able to travel from state to state without being scanned.”
Why take the time and effort to mention in the first installment of Road To Nowhere my desire to eat at The Egg & I? Not because I was hoping to offer a micro blog / twitter account of my journey, quite the contrary, I wished to offer what should be a philosophical aspect of any adventure—things that have been waiting a long while to be experienced, should be ingested. There are many experiences to be had, but the experience that has been repeatedly at hand, yet not grasped, this creates a hole in the fabric of life, which can only be repaired, not by a patch, but by filling. And even something as mundane as a place to dine should not be ignored, because it is exactly the minuteness of this kind of hole, which causes such disproportionate damage—we are most damaged by what we do not know is missing!
Mike will now attest to the quality of The Egg and I’s Egg’s Benedict and I can see why this eatery is so converged upon by locals who are in the know. The Bellagio Café is still my favorite place to have breakfast in all of Las Vegas, but the Egg and I can now be listed number two on my list and if price matters, well we all have a new favorite place.
The phone rang; Andy had raised himself from a considerable slumber. “You’re already here?” he asked, in a sleepy, not really too surprised kind of voice.
“Here? I called you an hour ago to see if you wanted to join us for breakfast…Hey I have some stuff for your new house, are you home?”
“Yeah, come on by,” he answered, happy to know that his friend since the age of six was about to drop in accompanied by a good friend from high school (Mike). And a little irritated because I have that Cat In The Hat kind of effect on people, places, and things. Meaning I screw things up, tip the apple cart, think out of the box and generally cause a commotion…I like to think of this as helping people.
Shortly there after we arrived at the front of Andy’s single story, which he had just recently moved into after sojourning for the last several months at Dave The Jew’s house. And yes, for my longtime readers, Andy who prefers, now that he is an adult, to be called Drew is the same Andy known as Fat Andy in my more satirical blogs. I handed him a set of towels (Ralph Lauren), a bunch of canned goods, and a copy of my novella “In Development” for his visiting mother, Carol—this book is probably not appropriate for my friend’s mother, but I didn’t think about this until afterwards.
“The waters nice,” I said trying out the new pool. “You want to roll with us?”
“I’ve got Jake til Monday and my mom.”
“Oh. Well you can grab Dave The Jew and meet us somewhere.”
Andy nodded indicating that he liked this idea. “I’ll ask Dave…Stan, we generally swim with trunks on. The neighbors.” He pointed at a curious couple looking on from their back porch. I waved and headed for the house.
“So where are you guys headed to?” Andy’s voice trailed after us.
I opened the door of the big black Suburban. “I think we’ll go catch dinner with Richard!”
“Utah?” Andy shouted.
I nodded. “Utah…”
To be continued…