My Apologies, Iowa, You’re Not That Bad
Indiana, Illinois, and Ohio are the real criminals.
I started to feel grumpy as I made my way through Iowa. I thought it was just Iowa. I took Rt. 20, which was a fine road, just straight and uninteresting. I started to notice a change in how things felt and looked, and it was hard to describe until I thought about it, and trust me, I had plenty of time to think about it. But as much as I thought Iowa was as meh as it could get, then came the unholy trinity of ugly: Indiana, Illinois, and Ohio.
The sky was paler and the horizon was hazier. The trees looked less beautiful, more scraggly, like broccolini instead of broccoli. (However, from a culinary perspective, we all know that broccolini is superior.) And overall, things were just… uglier. But why? I think it’s the humidity. There was a marked increase in humidity as I made my way through Iowa, and it came into full effect in Illinois and stayed that way. Maybe the changing climate is what wrecked the roads beyond the incompetence of the contractors who paved them.
It’s if the builders of the roads decided that “it’ll work” instead of making a smooth surface for pleasurable travel. The roads in South Dakota were pristine, as if the builders put an extra touch of flatness on them, such that they disappeared under my tires in a smooth beautiful hum so I could give my full attention to the landscape as it whizzed by. In Illinois, it’s as if the builders intentionally made the seams regular, painful, interruptions, as if to punish you for trespassing. Imagine having the hiccups, and every time you hiccuped, you got hit in the head with a whiffle bat. Not a big deal until the 100th time when you want to strangle whoever is doing this to you. I wanted to get to my parents as quickly as possible so I took the 80/90 toll road for hundreds of miles as well, and for a road you pay to use, I felt as though they should be paying me.
It’s as though whoever designed the bridges simply gave up on trying to make things beautiful. Why are the bridges ugly? Brutalist design, form completely reigning over function, serving only as tools to shuttle the hapless traveler ever-faster out of this green, but lonely place. Farms were devoid of any aesthetic interest grasslands were patchy and neglected. The only interest I could see were signs dotting the landscape with biblical tropes, “Only through JESUS can you be saved.”, “Man is appointed once to die, and after that the judgement.”, “Frustrated? Jesus provides the answers.”
Yes, I am frustrated, but unless Jesus is going to repave your abomination of a state, I’m shit out of luck.
I see signs all over the place. Biblical signs. Political signs. But what are these people trying to do? Are they trying to change my mind? As if some random passer-by is going to see a sign, pull over, and immediately begin repenting. Or some “Don’t blame me, I voted for so-and-so!” billboards. Are you just trying to make me feel bad? I sincerely don’t get this at all, and I’ll tolerate it if your state is beautiful, but Indiana, you can just keep your damn opinions to yourself. *sips beer* *takes a drag*
And finally, the Indiana toll road system. I entered it twice, I exited it twice. Each interaction had an issue except the first time. The second time I couldn’t get a ticket. I had to press the little button to call for help with a bunch of cars behind me. They had to do some magic and the robot spit a ticket at me. The first time I exited the toll road, it was at 11pm at night, and it said my ticket was invalid, call for help. Um. So I pushed the button, and it kept repeating over, and over again: “WE KNOW YOUR TIME IS VALUABLE, SOMEONE WILL ANSWER YOUR CALL SHORTLY. WE KNOW YOUR TIME IS VALUABLE, SOMEONE WILL ANSWER YOUR CALL SHORTLY. WE KNOW YOUR TIME IS VALUABLE, SOMEONE WILL ANSWER YOUR CALL SHORTLY.” I waited for about 3 minutes. When it was obvious that nobody was going to come to my aid in the middle of absolutely nowhere, I off-roaded Stormy around the gate and sped off in a huff. Yeah, take that, Indiana. The second time I tried to exit their hell road, I put my ticket in and the LCD screen kept flashing “ENTERING TEST MODE.” What the hell. I called Technical Support™ and they finally answered, this time, there were about 10 frustrated cars behind me. “What’s the problem?” I told them. “Where you coming from?” “I have no clue.” I responded. They rattled off town names, and I just picked on randomly. They accepted my lie, charged me $4.50, and let me go.
I have no pictures from this day, nor any good memories, but it did get me farther down the road. I can only imagine that if someone chooses to live in one of these three states, that basically bleed together into one slab of anguish, they are either: 1. insane, 2. living in Chicago (see #1), 3. have family there, 4. were unlucky enough to have their job transfer them there.
If I lived here, I’d put out a sign too, to somehow justify my beliefs to the world, just to try to make some meaning out of life. I guess it’s the same as me writing this blog.