Redneck Roadtrip

With many Americans gearing up to travel over the river and through the woods for Thanksgiving, is it possible to make a 1,000 journey seem bearable?

Well, of course it is.  It’s all in how you approach your trip.

First, you need something to eat.

A chocolate dipped cone always starts my road trip off on the right wheel.

Filling up on cheap spirits (they have to last nine hours, so don’t get anything top shelf) will help you pass some time. If you drink just enough, you will get out of your leg of driving, (clever, yes. Well received by other passengers? Not so much. But who cares, you’re ready for karaoke in the car).

Road rot gut. Taaka vodka and a Diet Coke from Quik Trip. Keepin’ it classy while killing brains cells and miles.

Car karaoke is performed by travelers who are just drunk enough to play one CD ad nauseam and sing every word (that they don’t know –  it is a constant mumble until the chorus) so the most annoying passenger (usually me), wants to throw themselves out of the moving vehicle to prevent their brains turning to mush.  It is imperative to pack good tunes or you might turn yourself into roadkill.

My ears were bleeding at the sound of any lyric off of this Luke Bryan album that was played on repeat no less than 13 times.

Take pictures of machinery indigenous to the region of the country in which you are traveling. It will provide endless confusion as to what the object you just photographed could be…

Is it a combine? A tractor? Who knows?  It’s definitely not an International Harvester.

Make sure you bring a coat to put over your head to ensure privacy during phone conversations.

My mom in her sound proof phone booth, talking to my Gma.

Presents are a good way to distract the impatient folks who incessantly ask that dreaded question, to which you can reply, “No we’re not there yet but how ’bout a gift?”

Who cares if we have 658 more miles to go? You just scored a mini bottle of rot gut vodka AND a framed photo of you from your cheerleading days in college. Lucky!

Every time you stop to get gas, be sure to get a snack. And also NEVER wear non-elastic pants in the car (they won’t expand with all of your mindless eating out of boredom).

My fourth carton of the most delicious dip in all the land – Anderson Erickson’s French Onion. See the big sweatshirt? Expands with each dipped chip I inserted into my yapper (people who travel with me like it when I eat. I’m quiet for the 30 seconds it takes to inhale my snacks).

And hopefully, when you arrive to your final destination, Grandma is waiting just as anxiously as Teddy impatiently waits for my return home.

WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? My fur ball welcoming committee of one usually cops an attitude the second my key hits the lock.

Now you have all of the tools needed to quickly pass the nine hours it takes to get to your crazy relative’s house for the massive amounts of turkey, stuffing, yams, turkey, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, turkey, green beans, pumpkin pie and turkey.

Just don’t forget your drawstring pants for the ride home.