New Orleans: The Real Sin City

Tuesday, June 10 - New Orleans, Louisiana
Rudy at Golden Shears has been a barber for 45 years. He lets Andy participate in an art: cutting my hair. Mistake.



There’s a nude life drawing class at Gigi’s New Orleans Academy of Fine Arts. They won’t let us film.

Deacon John will, though he’s embarrassed by his sub-par smile after mouth surgery this morning. He plays slide guitar with such vigor but speaks barely above a whisper.


Bourbon Street offers us absinthe imported from Prague, hot dog vendors as artists, Huge Ass Beers, no cover bottomless strip clubs, making it the real Sin City.

Will Smith plays the trumpet and sings “Tip the band, tip, tip the band” until we buy their CD.

Dr. Bob Says, "Be Nice Or Leave"

Monday, June 9 - New Orleans, Louisiana
Dr. Bob: eccentric, colorful, shirtless. “Be nice or leave” is the theme of his work. He offers us a small tree to smoke. Andy declines, accepts a piece of artwork instead.

Nick Florence is on a mission trip from Dallas, and he wants to pray for me. It’s difficult to explain where my Judaism went, so I’m honored to accept the prayer.

Dinner on Josh and Dana, Nawlins style. Potato-crusted mahi mahi, cornbread, crab cakes, cajun-spiced shrimp.


Justin Long (Mac in Mac vs. PC commercials) is a gentleman. He wants to know how fast Christine goes and whether we drive it on the interstate.

Meat: Boiled, Baked, Basted

Sunday, June 8 - New Orleans, Louisiana
It’s a crawfish boil! And they are screaming. Andy participates by picking up a live one. I participate by screaming with the dying ones.

Windshield destroyed. The worst streets to date demolish it. USAA insurance covers the cost of replacing it completely. Awesome.

Kendall’s gracious family dines us at Ruth’s Chris Steak House. (I’m wondering who Chris is.). Tom is modest about his accomplishments in keeping New Orleans safe and fervent with numerous post-retirement boards and committees to run.

The Boston Celtics win Game 2 as we close down the place.

89 Years Old And Flooring It

Saturday, June 7 - Kinder, Lousiana to New Orleans, Louisiana
Andy’s peeing leads to the scariest flat tire situation to date. On a bridge. Seemingly endless. No shoulder, four lanes of semis and trucks leaving Texas, 65mph speed limit. Nearly a mile of riding on the flat and praying for the bridge to end quickly, the tire blows completely and we’re on the rim; continuing is not an option.

I’m waving the slow moving vehicle triangle reflector and directing traffic into the other lane. The drivers don’t seem to understand. Andy changes the tire and we throw the burning hot flat on top and zip away in under 3 minutes. The bridge continues on for at least another mile. At the end of it are dozens of torn up tires. Frightening.

Almost as terrifying as the Louisiana driver who is waving at us, tailgating, pulling in front and signaling us to stop. He wants to look at the kart (isn’t he already?). He’s missing teeth. “I’m a mechanic,” he shouts. “That thing is awesome,” his wife yells next to us. “My daughter wants to see it.” We’re already behind schedule and Kendall is expecting us in New Orleans. And you guys are approaching this situation rather strangely, no?

After 5 miles, he curses at us, revs his engine next to us on the two-lane highway, and flips a U-turn. I notice our windshield is cracked.

Andy’s friend Kendall is a welcome relief from today. And she’s bringing us to her grandmother, Dorothy “Gigi” Coleman, without showers or clean clothing for more than 48 hours.

Gigi floors the kart around her neighborhood. She’s having a hard time understanding that we’ve traveled from California on a kart much like her own. But she’s quick-witted approaching 90 years and founded the New Orleans Academy of Fine Arts — she knows exactly how to touch our hearts.


Miles traveled today: 185
Total miles traveled: 2098

I'm Fairly Certain Mosquitoes Can Bite Through Fingernails

Friday, June 6 - Houston, Texas
Well rested and ready for the Art Car Museum. Totally funkified automobiles decked out with seashells, steel fish scales, trinkets, crocodile skulls, figures of the Virgin Mary, duct tape ... lots of duct tape (I wonder if anyone has made a duct tape car ... would it run on rubber cement?).

And we’re off to New Orleans. Now that we’re out of Texas, the mustache is no more. Andy will have to live vicariously through someone else’s facial hair.

Campsites cost money. Hotel rooms cost money. Couchsurfers aren’t in every city. Why not sleep at a Church?

How’s the First United Pentecostal Church of Kinder for ya? God has sent the mosquitoes as punishment for our transgressions. We zip the tent with at least a dozen zipped in with us.

Miles traveled today: 192
Total miles traveled: 1913

Video Blog #1

Edited by Lyman Smith for Eagle Ridge Media

Ritchie Valens Sounds A Lot Like The Rolling Stones

Wednesday, June 4 - Thursday, June 5 - Houston, Texas
Jeremy’s blogging now while we’re in Houston to catch up, relax, download pictures, let the rents know we’re not dead.

Salsa/Cuban/African/Spanish/rock music in the park. Andy gets on stage to sing La Bamba (or something by the Stones?). He’s rockin’ out like it’s the Stones, even if it’s actually La Bamba.

I jump in the Conga line with the old ladies. The cute, younger ones do the filming for us.


Yvonne Tims sings for us with even more soul than when she sang years ago at the World’s Fair.


A new tequila recommendation from our waiter leads to Big Buck Hunter, pictures with calendar girls at the bar, cowboy hats, and more RockBand until 3am.

Nails & Tires: Enemies From The Beginning

Tuesday, June 3 - Austin, Texas to Houston, Texas
Another flat tire on the way to Houston (it’s only 160 miles for God’s sake). We dish out the $30 to have our tires checked, rotated, balanced, repaired, what the heck is it that we’re paying for? The mechanics tell us it would be better to drive these tires at slower speeds around 30mph rather than 70mph. “So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.”



My friend Sebastian greets us in Houston, moves his custom Infiniti G35 out of the garage and into the street so Christine can be covered for the night.

Jeremy takes the couch.

Miles traveled today: 168
Total miles traveled: 1721

Squirrels, Mosquitoes, and Fireballs, Oh My!

Monday, June 2 - Austin, Texas
Smithing today. As in blacksmithing. Shannon Von Wright has great spirit and compassion in her. Efficient, honest, a noble teacher.

I make a hook. Shannon’s impressed with my hook. Jeremy makes a sailboat. I’m actually impressed by his sailboat.

Shannon lets us shower under her outdoor showerhead. I think there’s a squirrel watching me. Jeremy says a mosquito bit his penis.

John Arthur is lighting alcohol on fire and spewing it across the bar at Treasure Island. Not even a weekday can slow the 6th Street craziness. We’re homeless ... again. John supplies a bed and couch at after leading us and golf kart through the streets of Austin at 4am. I win the Ro-Sham-Bo, Jeremy takes the couch.

Hey There, Cupcake, Wanna Pillowfight?

Sunday, June 1 - Austin, Texas
I’m on the floor. Sharing a bed with Jeremy didn’t sound appealing last night.

Madi, Hoof’s oldest daughter at about 7 years old, wants to drive the kart. Jeremy assists from shotgun.

In Austin, it’s straight to Hey, Cupcake, a mobile home converted into a cupcake stand. We met the owner in Marfa; he promised us a free one. Jeremy participates in an art by squeezing whipped cream into the center of his pastry with Rose’s help (Lady and the Tramp style to boot).

It’s hot, we head to the river but get distracted by a homeless man with a guitar. We pull over and park and get distracted again by girls playing volleyball. Jeremy learns the art of setting and spiking ... kind of. Shalee and John are good teachers: they’ve been playing every weekend this year and since 8am today.

Tough girls at the Roller Derby John and Shalee invite us to. Chola sets a new Roller Derby record: she is ejected from the game ... twice! (She threw a girl to the ground the first time and spit at the ref the second). Penalties take the form of pillow fights and spankings but pillows are abandoned quickly when the girls go for all out brawls instead.

Headhunters bar afterwards and a round of drinks for the Derby girls on Bellco Credit Union (Jeremy received a gift card from Laura Higgins, the Director of Marketing, for his work in the commercials).

Nowhere to sleep. John and Shalee save the day.

JOHN/SHALEE: Just ask. Cut the foreplay and just ask, man.
ANDY/JEREMY: Wou--Would that be a problem?
JOHN/SHALEE: Is it a problem for you to ask?
ANDY/JEREMY: Can I stay at your place?
JOHN/SHALEE: (indifferently) Yeah.

Hoof

Saturday, May 31 - Del Rio, Texas to Austin, Texas
Yeah, like we’re not going to call for a late check out ...

Barely in San Antonio by 6pm (with more than 100 miles to go before Austin). Nails in three of our seven tires.

Ripping, stabbing, pumping, plugging, wiggling, pulling, cutting. This is what it takes to fix a flat. I rip out the nail with pliers, stab the hole to open it up (am I really making the hole bigger to then plug it up?), pump fix-a-flat goo and air in through the valve, plug the hole with rubber cement-laced straws of tire tread, wiggle the jamming tool out, pulling part of the straw with it, cut off the end of the straw. Repeat as necessary (three fucking times).

1am. We finally arrive at Rodger Hoofnagle’s house. The kids are asleep, the beer is cold, and the trampoline is prepped for Jeremy to jump and then pass out hard. We talk about our old job together. “Hoof” moved on to a higher salary and more responsibility. I quit to drive a golf kart across the country.

Miles traveled today: 234
Total miles traveled: 1553

You've Got A Little Dirt On Your Face

Friday, May 30 - Marfa, Texas to Del Rio, Texas
13 hours on the road to Del Rio (that puts the border in border town). And not a single problem with the kart. Good Christine.



Motel 6 is a must. 250 miles to drive tomorrow and the wind is picking up again. Here we come, Austin.

Miles traveled today: 230
Total miles traveled: 1319

Adam's Geodescent Dome of Eyeballs

Thursday, May 29 - Marfa, Texas
11am. Thankful for the recovery from the violently loud camping escapades yesterday. Stupid wind with its stupid blowingness.

Food Shark for lunch. It’s an old, metal trailer Adam drives into town every day. Middle Eastern kick to it: falafel, curry, lamb. Strange considering there are only two other restaurants in town. I set up a meeting with Adam later tonight at his geodescent dome of eyeballs (it makes sense in person).

Until two years ago, Rachel tells me, Marfa residents drove more than 30 miles to find the closest laundromat.

Minimalism at the Chinati Foundation that preserves Donald Judd’s work, the cultural guru who spurred the Marfa art scene. Boxes made of steel. Lightbulbs of neon blue, green, pink, yellow. We dance in front of them and make our own art.

Buck and Camp are fantastic. Free spirits of a new-age Wild West. They bought the first church in Marfa and converted it into a work space and home. Camp tells us about his woodwork, Buck tells us about how proud she is of her husband.

Off to Adam’s dome. Camp brings the tequila, we bring the golf kart. Eyeballs on television sets. Creepy and totally awesome at the same time.

Some people wear Superman pajamas. Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas.

Wednesday, May 28 - ?, Texas to Marfa, Texas
It’s sort of raining and it’s cold. What if it actually starts to rain?

Ralph is the only man in Van Horn, Texas who knows how to help. He does and tries to charge us $93. Jeremy talks him down to $38.

I fall asleep at lunch. Jeremy is trying to figure out what it means that there are bags of water over the door and salad bar. Weird.

We ambush our second Couch Surfing friend, Rachel Lindley, at her place of employment, Marfa Public Radio. She’s surprised (has she heard that we’re coming?).

Ricky at the coffeeshop next door makes us Shortstop Shakes and wears a t-shirt that says “Some people wear Superman pajamas. Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas.” I like Marfa, Texas already.

Chase and Rachel are vegans. We pick arugula from their garden. Obama’s as outraged as we are by the price of it at Whole Foods so we’ll accept the gracious salad and pasta meal Chase whips up. Spicy, garlicky, sweet, great flavors. We eat on the rooftop as the sun sets, laughing about the illusive Marfa Lights.

Jeremy loses the Ro-Sham-Bo and sleeps on the couch. I get the bed.

Miles traveled today: 150
Total miles traveled: 1089

Wind, Roosters, And Sunrise: The Perfect Storm

Tuesday, May 27 - Las Cruces, New Mexico to ?, Texas
The Bean coffeeshop for wireless internet access, a loaf of banana nut bread, and a soy chai smoothie.

Headed to Marfa, Texas next. Expecting the largest drive yet: 274 miles.

Andy’s blogging now:

Lush farm land surrounds us. These are the drives that make travel in a golf kart a luxury.

And terrifying.

“Did you turn off the lights?” I ask, 70 miles outside of El Paso at the only truck stop we’ve seen in hours.

“No,” Jeremy says. We sit in silence. “Did you?” he asks me.

“NO!”

I remove the seat and squeeze some wires together. It worked before. It works again. The lights are on.

Flicker, flicker 50 yards out of the light. Darkness. Raul asks if we need help and guides us back to the truck stop and drives away. It’s eerie. We pitch a tent. 1am.

The wind starts up, whipping across the open Texas plains at what must be 70 mph, twice the speed of the golf kart.

Jeremy is anchoring his body against the side of the tent. So that we don’t blow away?

I don’t know whether to laugh or scream. 3 hours of this. The rooster is crowing. No gas, no food, no cars, but a rooster whose clock is set to Atlantic Standard Time. It’s 4am and the sun isn’t even close to rising. We pack up (a feat in wind this brisk) and get back on the road.

We need oil.

Miles traveled today: 123
Total miles traveled: 939

Whiskey By The Fire ... Don't You Wish You Were A Sponsor, Knob Creek?!

Monday, May 26 - Las Cruces, New Mexico
Elizabeth tells us about her work with hospice patients and breathes life into one of her poems and we drive her to the Plaza in Mesilla to get b-roll and catch up on The Blog.


A second night at Josh’s, a playwright and teacher who’s back from the University of Southern California in Los Angeles. More whiskey and Mac and Cheese with Louisiana hot sauce around the fire.

The Pump Isn't Pumping

Sunday, May 25 - Spafford, Arizona to Las Cruces, New Mexico
Leslie wasn’t joking. She knocks at 6am and tells us to leave. We eat cereal and bagels and muffins and oranges and drink milk and orange juice and jump on the road with danishes in napkins.

The kart begins to putter somewhere between Deming and Hatch, New Mexico. Fuel isn’t getting to the engine. Andy replaces the fuel pump with the spare electric pump. I stand far away and film the inevitable explosion (it never comes).

The electric pump isn’t pumping.

Andy switches it back to the first pump.

Who knew driving a golf kart around the country would be so difficult?

Elizabeth Vega and a dinner party are waiting for us in Las Cruces.

We make it to a gas station in Hatch, New Mexico and try the electric pump again. It works. She’s running smoothly and the noise is only slightly louder.

There’s a parade stopping traffic on the highway. A religious parade. Nuns being carried on a float, a priest adorned with gold and flowers and dressed in white.

Elizabeth greets us in Las Cruces, New Mexico, cooks garlic and chicken and mashed potatoes, and takes us to a backyard campfire at Josh Wheeler’s. Everyone here is an artist. Josh, Rachel, Kevin, Blaze, Joe, Elizabeth. And everyone drinks whiskey and Tecate. It's our first Couch Surfing experience, and it's a great one.

Miles traveled today: 249
Total miles traveled: 816

Handlebar Mustache As Bodyguard

Saturday, May 24 - Phoenix, Arizona to Spafford, Arizona
Driving. On US-60 and US-70 for as long as we can. With a new set of handlebars. (Andy believes that if one of us has a handlebar mustache, we'll avoid a beating throughout the south ... he can't grow one so I'm stuck with the idiocy on my face).

We stop to refuel in Globe, Arizona. Martin invites us into his daughter’s Quinceañera. It’s a Mexican tradition for girls much like a Sweet 16 party but at the age of 15. There’s food. Good food. Tamales, guacamole, beans, pulled pork, all wrapped in a tiny tortilla. We take pictures and video and watch as Mom cries, Dad dances, and friends and family cheer. We look for camping in Thatcher, Arizona on the recommendation of Anne Raney, Andy’s sister. The road to the campsite is rocky and unpaved, and Christine can barely handle it. We turn back towards Safford, Arizona to look for the Wal-Mart where we’ve heard people can camp for free in the parking lot at anytime.

Not the case. Only RVs and only if the Store Manager allows it. He doesn’t.

The first hotel is $60 even though it’s 1am and we’ve assured the manager we’ll be out by sunrise.

The Budget Inn is another story. Leslie J. at the front desk agrees to let us stay in the employee room if we don’t tell a soul and promise to leave before 6am when she gets off work. (Breakfast will be available if we’re out early enough).

The bathroom is filled with dead cockroaches and beetles, but the room is free and the beds wreak only slightly of body odor and hard water.

Sam Hendrick calls at 2am from New York City. He’s heard about kART and wants to say hi, wish us luck, and ask more questions than I can answer at this hour without more sleep in my body and mind. We’re grateful for his blessing and curiosity, though, and look forward to his company when we get to the Big Apple.


Miles traveled today: 165
Total miles traveled: 567

Playboy Bunnies vs. Christine

Friday, May 23 - Phoenix, Arizona
John Tsaninos at Procart Industries agrees to take a look at Christine, see if he can help us out. He doesn’t know where to start. He wants to cut the body, put it onto a newer Club Car with better wiring, less of a mess around the gas engine. John’s working on a custom build for Hugh Hefner’s girlfriends and the playmates at the Playboy Mansion, and his shop holds the world’s longest golf cart and dozens of other sick rides. None have the character and poise of Christine, but we cover her eyes nonetheless.



John sends us away with three better tires for the back, a handle on the passenger side, and a quick cleaning. We’re as grateful as we’ve been for the better handling on the Phoenix streets and the shine on the hood.



Rock Band and Wii Mario Kart happen until 3am.

Light, Dark, Light, Dark

Thursday, May 22 - Phoenix, Arizona
Rachel Richards owns a shop in downtown Phoenix called Bunky. She doesn’t think of herself as an artist but she’s got style and the outside wall of her clothing store is tagged with graffiti art.


Erin Garmon teaches art to troubled teens. She encourages her students to create dark artwork rather than acting on their dark and violent fantasies.


Wayne Michael Reich has problems with the Phoenix art scene. He wants the work to be better and knows what it will take to bring business to town. His paintings lean towards comic book fury, his nude photography very sexual.


Chris Benavidez improvises on the saxophone for us at his house and tells us about the problems and rewards of the medications he’s been taking.

Traffic Stops The Arizona Way

Wednesday, May 21 - Parker, Arizona to Phoenix, Arizona
We buy two dozen fuses. 20 amps. Ain’t no short circuit gonna fuck with us again.

Big Papa Ray and Tammy don’t believe we drove a golf kart from San Bernardino last night. We show them the kart. They believe us.

Much of the drive to Phoenix is caught on video and still camera by Brian. As is our second traffic stop almost immediately after entering Phoenix. 3 police cars, 5 officers. They radio in the license plate to dispatch. Dispatches response: “Yeah, it checks out. 1985 ... um ... Club Car?”

Jacque Johnston is waiting with hugs, clean towels, and turkey sandwiches. Rock Band will have to wait until tomorrow.

Miles traveled today: 163
Total miles traveled: 402

Traffic Stops The California Way

Tuesday, May 20 - Rialto, California to Parker, Arizona
Didn’t sleep a wink. Too fearful. It’s 3:45am. We change out the larger back tires for smaller ones to get more torque up Big Bear Mountain.

We’re going. Finally. After nearly two years of dreaming and planning. We break down less than two miles from George’s house at the first gas station at which we try to fill up. Somehow, coddling gets the kart started again. We lose the key to the kart with the engine still running. Weird. Turns out a flathead screwdriver does the trick.

We stop at the crest, across from Rim of the World high school where the assistant principal Dave wants to show us his students’ artwork. We’re impressed by their action photography and ceramic pottery. They’re impressed by the golf kart.

Jim doesn’t have a spare Club Car key (any Club Car key will work in any Club Car ignition ... shhh), but he offers us $500 for the kart or an even trade of an old Harley. Hard to justify that deal, Jim, sorry.

Lunch at Quiznos and then a decision to avoid restaurant chains on the trip. McDonald’s is quintessentially American, but how much more interesting is Big Papa Ray’s cafe on Route 95 in Parker, Arizona (we’ll be there soon, Big Papa).


Pass through Joshua Tree again (this time at 32mph). Sleep on hot parking lot gravel with a water jug and road atlas for pillows. Pulled over by the police outside Joshua Tree. Our first traffic stop. D.W. Bradley asks questions, laughs at us, and lets us go.

Nightfall. It’s very dark on Route 62. 120 miles without streetlights and our headlights are getting dim. Quickly. We haven’t seen a car in an hour. We consider setting up camp on the shoulder and waiting for sunrise. I find a fuse. Placed carefully by God’s hand into Christine’s glove compartment. Scarily miraculous. Metal touches metal and the entire kart lights up. We drive in silence and fear.

A rocket screams past us about 200 feet overhead. The only warning is the blue hue from the afterburners. Weird. It’s 11pm on a Tuesday in the middle of nowhere. Testing? Training? Practical joke to scare the shit out of two already panicked kids?

Brian Landis Folkins is splitting the cost of a rental car with us and driven from Denver to meet us at a hotel room in Parker, Arizona. Brian is the kind of person you want to sit with, drink with, smoke with, and be around as often as you’re awake.


Big day, small hotel bed.

Miles traveled today: 239
Total miles traveled: 239