Yet there is something wonderful about roadtrippin America. Everything is the same yet everything is different. Accents change, dialect changes, culture changes, religious view and political opinions often change. During this particular season i left the cold of New York City behind and with every 50 miles i swore there was a temperature increase of one degree until i finally reached my destination and rested comfortably at 70 degrees. America is beautiful. I think we forget that. With a large proportion of our population gathered in urban areas its easy to neglect the natural splendor that is America.
Roadtrippin in something sacred in our culture. It goes back to our inception. To our birth. Give me your hungry and poor, your disposed. American is the land of opportunity. Even if you are no longer an immigrant traveling by boat weeks on end to reach Ellis Island, you can still find your pot of gold somewhere else. Thats because no matter how wonderful America is wherever you might be, there is a possibility that somewhere else might be better. And i think that feeling still remains. There is something amazing about heading out west, something freeing. Its as if the gold rush never stopped.
So you pack your things into your car, put your windows down, pull on the highway, blast something incredibly American like Springsteens Born To Run and feel the wind in your hair and remember that your American and your pot of gold is waiting. Youll just have to pull over eventually.
