Nebraska is a Big State

Part 47 of the Cycle-Across-America series. (Read from the start in Boston or see the full index)

Another day in Nebraska. From Hastings on to Nebraska’s “Number 1 Attraction” and ending the day in Holdrege with unwanted attention from a stripper and a drunken mother.

October 2nd

Somewhere between 11 and midnight. Perhaps it’s time to leave Nebraska. The phone just rang and woke me up but nobody spoke at the other end. It’s not very long since I extricated myself from the bar and the drunken mother of 5 who was all over me.

Another late morning. Before I was ready to leave my room two hotel staff entered the room and asked me if my television was working okay. They were lucky. 5 minutes earlier they would’ve found me naked at the desk writing.

After bagels and toast I put on my jacket I bought in Boston, my overshoes I bought in St Joseph, Missouri, and the long pants I borrowed in Kansas City. It was cold and very windy out there.

Used the footpath over the railway. I’d already decided I would bypass the town if possible - the centre anyway. I simply wanted to be out in the corn again. I liked being very much alone like that.

As I passed the IMAX theatre that does features on the Old West I hit a red light at 12th Street. It felt right so I turned west. And that was the road I wanted. A County Road to Juniata and on to Kenesaw.

The wind was very strong and from the North with a little bit from the East. Once you wrapped up it was a beautiful morning. Blue skies again with the exception of small lines of pale purple clouds low in the distance. The skies do seem to be getting bigger as I go further West.

The traffic decreased with every mile and I was really enjoying being on a normal road again - no shoulder, no excessive speed by passing vehicles. By the time I reached Kenesaw, still in Adam’s County, I’d done 15 miles, so time to eat to get me to Minden. That would then leave me just 25 miles to Holdrege.

I liked Kenesaw. It was a familiar layout of a railroad on one side and from it the main street ran. On this street I thought about going into the Silver Dollar bar but I was still hoping to make it to Pioneer Village in Minden so time was important. At the corner gas station I had a 12 inch turkey sub with everything and a couple of drinks.

And then it was due South to rejoin US 6/34. These 3 miles were perfect. The huge wind on my back, milo and corn all around. I thought it was so beautiful I got giddy. This happens sometimes. It happened in Slovenia 4 years ago. And now here in Nebraska I did the Macarena on the bike. I laughed and giggled a lot.

[You can find the rest of this entry below the fold]

Read: Cycling Across America #47 »

In the Nebraskan Corn: York to Hastings

Part 46 of the Cycle-Across-America series. (Read from the start in Boston or see the full index)

October 1st

Toast with grape jelly and strawberry jam, three kinds of donut, grapefruit juice, and two cups of tea while I look at a large map of the USA and answer all the usual questions.

And that was the longest conversation I had all day.

I like Nebraska. Being here. Looking at it. Listening to it. The demeanour of its people appeals to me. But they won’t talk to me.

To be fair, in these parts there isn’t all that many people. If they say anything at all to me it’s of the type :
-you’re not cycling across the United States on a bicycle?

This is where I begin immediately to bore them insisting on telling them that not alone did I begin in Boston but I’ve got here via Georgia, Oklahoma, and Iowa. Can’t have them thinking I came the short way. I must stop doing that.

So straight onto US 81 over I-80 heading due South. Right into that wind. It felt about 25mph and I was going less than 8mph. More frustrating than anything. Holding the bike steady in the shoulder wasn’t a problem but hearing anything was. The wind was so strong that when a semi would go past me you wouldn’t feel the passing air.

First town was McCool Junction. I’d only gone 5 miles so no need to stop. With a population of 703 there wasn’t much life out on the highway but the town was mostly to the east. Still south into the wind towards Fairmount. It was in Fillmore County as I left York County.

It had taken me 2 hours to get here so I would eat even though I still had 45 miles to go. Had to go east for a short distance. The town was dominated by the grain plant and the railway. A train was going west as I entered the town. Over 100 cars of mixed cargo.

Yesterday I’d seen 5 trains, each carrying about 116 cars of coal (I know, I counted them - there’s not much to count out here and this was moving). All of them heading east. Like all of the grain plants out here, Fairmount’s had the name of a co-op on it.

Highway 6 ran along the edge of town cutting off Main Street before it reached the railroad. The town seemed to have buildings dropped casually around in no order except for the main street which was mostly on one side. On the other side there were buildings, including a couple of those corrugated metal hangar shaped buildings, but not like the west side.

An historical plaque told me of the town’s history. It was famous for a creamery which started there about one hundred and fifty years ago. It spread to about a dozen other towns in this area of Nebraska, and eventually its headquarters moved to Omaha. Since then the building that housed its office has been in the hands of doctors in town. The company became one of the nation’s top 500 and I think it was 1974 when it moved its HQ out of state to Houston and was taken over by some other food giant.

[Because I’m not spending too much time editing these journal entries, they’re longer than they need to be, and so I’m putting the rest of this entry below the fold]

Read: Cycling Across America #46 »

Just a quick note that I fixed the link to the 2nd half of the most recent Cycling Across America post (#45) - previously it linked to the 2nd half of the wrong post (#44).

And I’m readying Post #46 in that series right now so it will appear within the hour.

Also as today is a holiday in Britain and in the US, I’m going to concentrate on offline activities such as tripping to the Post Office to send off more paintings.

Read: Housekeeping Notes »

One of the questions I am asked most often about painting is what process I use to arrive at the final painted image, whether I uses studies or photographs, or whether I paint from scratch, etc.

The truth is that I don’t have any consistent method.

Some paintings come out of my head either from no particularly conscious area, or from the part that houses memory. Others begin as sketches or drawings, or maybe even painted studies. Others come from photographs I took intentionally to be used for paintings, and sometimes, though very rarely, I paint based on photographs that other people have taken.

Occasionally I take notes to go alongside sketches or photos, and sometimes I revisit a scene mid-painting to take fresher memories back to the studio where the painting is.

So there is no general simple answer, as any of the above methods are used, and quite often it’s a combination that ultimately leads to the painting.

Here’s a sketch I did of Kinsale from across the harbour just after sunrise one morning. It’s only 4 or 5 inches wide but it took a while because, well because I think I had a fair few pints the night before. (click to enlarge)

And from that small drawing and the memories of a couple of hours just looking that morning, I painted this painting of Kinsale when back in Dublin a short while after. It’s maybe 40 inches wide. (click to enlarge):

Months after finishing the painting I found a photograph of the same scene that I’d taken from where I’d done the drawing. But when I was doing the painting I had forgotten that I had also taken a photo and so it was never consulted once.

Ultimately, though both different from this first painting I did of Kinsale, the process of painting it would have been added into the pot to produce, years later, both Kinsale II and Kinsale III. Update And Kinsale IV

See my other Paintings of Ireland

Read: Kinsale: From a Sketch to a Painting »

Nebraska

Part 45 of the Cycle-Across-America series. (Read from the start in Boston or see the full index)

The next section of the journal is taped and transcribed but as both tape and transcript are inaccessible in storage here is a brief outline of that day from memory, and from excerpts of the journal that was handwritten, a more detailed account of the following day.

September 29. A short day. Nebraska. Omaha to Lincoln.

A sunny day, I took US 6, a rare diagonal road in a world of the perfect grid. It runs southwest, parallel to I-80.

Much of US 6 had no shoulder so luckily it was Sunday as I wouldn’t have been able to cope with the traffic of any other day. In Gretna I took a photo of the water tower, another of those giant white spaceburgers on stilts, and further down the road a picture of an elevator.

I decided on Ashland for food. It meant turning off the road and cycling back for no more than a mile. When I saw what appeared to be an independent sandwich place I decided to try what always seemed too intimidatingly complex - to order a sandwich. I ended up with something hot and ate it outside in the warm autumn sun before ambling back to the highway and peddaling on towards Lincoln.

Greenwood and Waverly are passed, more place names I know from England, before I pass under I-80. I’m just over 60 miles cycled when I reach the Lincoln. It’s early. For me.

Lincoln is instantly beautiful in the sunshine amid the suburban trees. And then I get a puncture. A pod had burst and tons of little spikes released had done the damage. Looking around the street I see countless more of these pods so once I replace the tube I very carefully pick my way into the centre of town.

I make my way through the impressive university campus and then settle in for the evening in a motel. While I have a possible contact for Lincoln I’m pleased it doesn’t work out as the day’s cycling has me wanting to be alone with the bicycle. Despite the puncture it’s still an early day for me, so I enjoy a chat on the phone to Kansas City with a son of Nebraska before dinner and a night with my maps.

[An account of the next day in Nebraska constitutes the rest of this entry and it’s below the fold]

Read: Cycling Across America #45 »

You are an attractive woman. You have long curling dark hair that spills on your shoulders as you drive. You know you look good when the sun shines. You don’t know I am behind you.

You enter a pub in Brookside from the car park, and as you walk up the steps from the back patio your hair dances on your white t-shirt. Your small round jean-clad bottom skips smartly along as A Flock of Seagulls blasts out over chicken wings, salad, and beer.

You look for your sister but she is not here. Your sister is always late. You decide you will be late next time. You see a man alone at the bar yet not at the bar. You don’t like him. You don’t have time for people who don’t make their mind up.

He looks at you and makes his mind up. He walks straight over to you as if he was your sister.
-Hey eh can I get you a drink?

You hate your sister.

-No thanks, I’m waiting for somebody
-Well can I eh maybe get you a drink while you’re waiting?

You will not be late the next time you meet your sister; you will not turn up.

-They should be here any moment
-You look like you might like a drink, that’s all, and I’d eh like to get you one because you seem nice
-I am nice
-Well then you deserve a drink, so what would you like?
-A Grape Crush
-Whoah, what’s that then?

You notice his face is huge. Not his head, just his face. From behind he has a normal size head for his body, but from the front he’s all face, a sea of skin with features like lost islands, and capped with a little tuft of hair like a muppet.

-It’s a martini
-Oh, you don’t want a beer then?
-You’re not going to buy me a martini?
-Oh eh no, I will, I eh just was making sure; I want the lady to be happy
-Thank you. I’m Kerry
-Neat. That’s a neat name. What does it mean?
-It’s Irish. What’s your name?

You know he’s done this for so many years and you can’t understand why he’s so bad at it. You think he might be distracted by the music.

-Oh yeah, sorry. I’m eh Charles
-Charles?
-Yep. It’s a king’s name
-What do your friends call you, your highness?
-Charles

You have confused Charles. You can’t take your eyes off his eyes. Because they are so close together and it’s such a long way from them to his ears. And yet he manages the distance with his grin.

-Do you like eighties music?
-No. I mean maybe. I eh don’t know really. Why?
-This is eighties music
-Oh. I see. This is okay, yeah
-I love it
-Did you eh want to sit down and we could maybe get to know a bit about each other?
-I’m waiting for my sister
-Well maybe you could be eh sitting down while you’re waiting, no?
-I prefer to stand
-Kerry
-Yes?
-Kerry, that’s a neat name. I like that
-I didn’t pick it, but thanks
-When your eyes do that they’re just about as pretty as lightning bugs
-Are you serious?
-Don’t you like lightning bugs?
-Not as much as my eyes
-I used to smear a bunch of those little fellas in my belly button. You shoulda seen it light up

What did you do next?

I ran.

I ran so far a way-ay-ay.

And There’s More:
   • The Driving Range
   • Irish Prison Interview with Philo
   • A Chat With The Plain People Of The Midwest
   • Dublin Slanging Match

Read: Kansas City Stalking »

For those who care about who reads Irish KC, or about numbers in general.

Counted by sitemeter over 2 years:
• Pages viewed are over half a million,
• Unique visitors are over 200,000.

Also:
• By feed there are about 100 readers.
• On Twitter there are 100 followers
• On MySpace there are 1,058 friends

I tend to use FaceBook in a limited fashion, and practically never touch my Bebo page.

Irish KC has only started on FriendFeed, and I haven’t tried to count those who visit Irish KC’s presence on Squidoo or Tumblr. Or Del.icio.us, Simpy, Flickr, Reddit, YouTube, etc. But I may try and integrate some of those services more directly into IrishKC before they go the route of Kinja.

Read: Numbers »

LEGO

Maybe it’s not an international difference between America and Ireland; maybe it’s personal.

Either way it doesn’t half irk.

In Ireland, in fact in Europe as far as I know - and that matters for LEGO is a European brand - we say LEGO.

Because it says LEGO on the box.

That means as a child you are given a LEGO set. And when you open it you play with your LEGO pieces, many of them LEGO bricks. With the increasing variety of pieces away from the traditional brick shape, it is pieces of LEGO that you always seem to be tidying up.

It is used as an adjective.

In America however, there are things called Legos. It is legos that children play with and leave scattered over floors for parents to walk on. Despite the attraction of almost sounding like a Nigerian city on a lesbian island, this is a word worse than sheeps.

According to the official website the name ‘LEGO’ is an abbreviation of the two Danish words “leg godt”, meaning “play well”. So if it were named in English it would be a Play Well set and it would consist of, I would suggest, Play Well pieces rather than Play Wells.

Think of a Jigsaw Puzzle. It is jigsaw puzzle pieces (or jigsaw pieces) that you drop on the floor, not jigsaw puzzles (or jigsaws). Unless you’re particularly careless, that is. And when you think you have completed the jigsaw puzzle only to find a hole in it, you are missing a piece; you are not missing a jigsaw (puzzle). Or perhaps you’re missing 2 pieces, but even so you’d hardly declare that you’re missing 2 jigsaw puzzles - especially when you only purchased one.

And what does the official website say on the matter (link)?

If the LEGO trademark is used at all, it should always be used as an adjective, not as a noun. For example, say “MODELS BUILT OF LEGO BRICKS”. Never say “MODELS BUILT OF LEGOs”.

Oh okay, the sharp-eyed among you will have spotted that LEGO is not only used as an adjective in Ireland/Europe. It is also used as an adjectival noun. For the plural form of LEGO pieces. But this is what happens to adjectives. Especially when they are brandnames. As in “I need more LEGO”, “Who’s after robbin’ the LEGO I left in the fridge?” and “I’m worried about him, he loves LEGO too much”.

See Other Little Differences Between Ireland & the US:
   • Talking Temperatures in Ireland and America
   • Hosting Tourists in Ireland and America
   • Valentine’s Day in Ireland and America
   • All The Little Differences Between the US & Ireland

Read: Ireland & USA Little Differences #25: LEGO »