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Originally published at Route 96. You can comment here or there.

We drove late that night because the next day was my birthday and I wanted to make it to Vancouver to celebrate. As in Texas, that long quiet night drive became one of our favorite parts of the trip.

This time the grandeur of the scenery was vertical instead of horizontal: the black bulk of the mountains, and the winding highway through those incredible ancient trees (…of mystery!). If I tell you that the Oregon woods at night made me think of Twin Peaks or The X-Files, that would be true, but my near-automatic television references don’t convey the dark magic of the forest at night, a magic that is the territory of the Brothers Grimm as much as David Lynch or Chris Carter.

I knew we’d have a good party when we got to Vancouver, but as I drove along through the age and stillness of the forest, I decided that I would count that night as my real birthday. And so, somewhere on the twisting road between Crescent City and Canyon Creek Pass, I turned twenty-five.

[2006 Edit: “The territory of the Brothers Grimm”? And so… I turned twenty-five”? Jeez, that sounds goony. Thing is, that’s probably the one moment in the entire zine that I drop the sarcasm level and get just a little bit earnest without a follow-up joke. When I sent him his copy of the zine, Derek totally gave me shit for it. Picture him imitating me, holding the back of his hand to his forehead, his voice breaking with emotion, “And so… (SOB!) I turned twenty-five.” Jackass. Probably I had it coming–seems to me at one point in university I eviscerated some adolescent poetry Derek had published in our Grade 8 yearbook, and nobody should be held accountable for poetry they write at age 13. Still, here you see one difference between my generation and the emo kids that followed us. Look at–well, I won’t name names, but I’m sure you could think of some MySpace or Xanga pages where every sad song that comes up on the iPods demands a soak in the lake of self. Hero/Civic Generation” my ass. While for us emotionally stunted Gen-Xers, even the mildest sentimentality can only be couched in sarcasm, reference, or Eggers-esque footnoting and insincere self-denial. Like this footnote right here!]

Date: 2006-09-07 01:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chris-goodwin.livejournal.com
Oregon: It’s California’s Canada!

Bwahahahahahaha!!! I've never heard it called that before.

Do Canadians hate USAiaians as much as Oregonians hate Californians?

Date: 2006-09-07 03:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] emilytheslayer.livejournal.com
You know, Texans like to call Oklahoma the Canada of Texas. Or North Dallas.

Date: 2006-09-07 03:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chris-goodwin.livejournal.com
Having lived in Garland, yes.

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