The Backwoods

There is a discreet balance in the scenery out here in the Ohio backwoods. Large, thick tracks of treelands surround the retro grade neighborhoods that have been frozen in time since the 50's. General stores, gas stations with service attendents, and a myriad of local drivers in half broken down rusted out domestic brand lifted trucks with confederate flags are the norm. Yet no matter where my travels have taken me over the decades, the invisible magnetic beam of the weird somehow continues to pulls such outlandish individuals as those who drive such trucks into my presence. The first one must have been supplementing his income with regional meth sales as the guy behind the wheel and his friend cranked up the latest death metal sounds that Wal Mart had not already gone out of there way in banning due to sacriligous nature. Either way, these two epitomized the essence of rebellion in the small town country of southwestern Ohio, which happen to more or less border Indiana and Kentucky, don't think the proximity really had anything due to the stereotypical characteristics of the two individuals who in their cut of sleeve/ shirtless nature took turns leaning out their respective open doors while crusing down the roadway. Couldn't tell if this might be part local custom, mating ritual, or an all out effort to invoke a new form of intimidation not scene since the movie Deliverance. Of course, the fact I was driving a shitty little Hyundai compact car in the land of the free, home of the brave may have highlighted my already unwelcomed arrival.

There was not much I could do, besides turning back around to the Indiana border, most anyone with all their teeth and a bit of an education would stand out in these parts which makes the fact that a major university sets somewhat hidden in these mountainous hills, a bastion of learning where the overall intelligence level probably makes the entire state of Ohio appear partially capable of thought process, but do not be fooled it is down home right here in the backwoods, as the two screwballs bang on the sides of the truck doors to the death metal music while driver revs the engine somemore, not much else to do but laugh, already half pissed off because none of the road signs match any of the maps in my possession. There must be some sort of code or legend on the map I am missing which shall translate the myraid of posted highway markers alongside the shoulder, going on nothing but instinct at the moment, roadside taverns be damn, should just pull over and forget it, have a few drinks with the locals, instigate some violence then head down to the police station.

Regardless, the Dukes of Hazzard turned in another direction motivated by other means of spreading narrow minded hate amongst the citizens of Hamilton Ohio or wherever I happen to be at the time, everything looks the same, the houses, the treeline, the shaved mullets, and mini cars with sticker letters spelling out car detail services even though the car with the letters on it has not been detailed in years, missing bumpers, primer paint job, cracked windows, and enough junk the back pickup to make even the most endeavored horder turn awash in envious bliss. Guess the whole rebel flag thing might have to deal with our current president or proximity to Kentucky, quite possibly just small town America period, as if it matters anymore, symbolic if anything, like any other extremist activity in the US, outside of ideology Muslim related. Had to stop in a convenience store for directions finally, did want to spend the entire night driving around in circles looking for Miami University, the place just sort of appears alongside the road without much prompting which makes me crazy, either way, not much left to do but roll down the window, crank up the Greatful Dead and open a beer.