Go RVing Blog - WHATS IN A NAME

HAPPY MOM'S DAY

Brad Herzog — Sun, 09 May 2010 01:44:00 -0400

I’ve been saving this one for today because it’s a rather unique way to wish my wife Amy and my mother a Happy Mother’s Day. You never know what you’re going to find, as you rumble along the nation’s back roads. A couple of years ago – during a stop for a meal at the Pie Town Café in Pie Town, New Mexico – this is what I came across:

OTHER BRAD HERZOGS

Brad Herzog — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 15:25:00 -0400

Since today happens to be my birthday, I’m going to write a post about Brad Herzog. But it’s not entirely about me, so it’s not completely narcissistic. You see, among the many “story idea” files that I keep in my office at home (as opposed to my summer office on wheels) is a file with this title: “Other Brad Herzogs.”

I’ve been known to Google myself on occasion, just searching for book reviews and newspaper articles and such. I know there’s an element of vanity involved, but well… the life of an author can be a bit of an ego rollercoaster, so sometimes I need all the self-esteem I can get. In the process of such searches I’ve occasionally come across other Brad Herzogs. So I started keeping a file, although I was never quite sure what I would do with the information – until now.

(Disclaimer: This won’t really work if your name is Joe Smith – too many possibilities. Or if your name is Fannie Katzenellenbogen – too few.)

Anyway, here’s what I’ve found: There’s a Brad Herzog who teaches literature at Southern Arkansas University (I’d like to meet him). There’s a former high school swimmer from Broken Arrow, Oklahoma… and a 275-pound wrestler from Beachwood, Ohio… and a business economics graduate of the University of California in Santa Barbara… and a police officer in Marseilles, Illinois… and a bank manager in Orinda, California… and a photographer in Massachusetts… and a skier in Montana… and, apparently, a big fan of dachshunds in Colorado. Historically speaking, there’s even a Brad Herzog who fought in the Battle of the Bulge.

And a few months ago, I received a Facebook friend request from a fellow from Kansas City named… Bradley Herzog. So that was weird.

What does this have to do with my traveler’s journal? Well, what intrigues me about these other people is that we’ve gone through life with a shared name but obviously dramatically different experiences. Frankly, it fascinates me.

The same is true for American places. Pick almost any town name, and you can probably find at least a few other hamlets around the atlas that share it. Occasionally, you can find dozens. Let’s pick one as an experiment. To keep the narcissistic theme going, how about Bradley.

There happens to be a hamlet named Bradley here in Monterey County, California. It's the site of a military base. But there’s also one in West Virginia, and it is home to Appalachian Bible College. And the one in Maine is near the Sunkhaze Meadows National Wildlife Refuge. There’s a Bradley in southern Arkansas, about five miles from the Louisiana border – and fewer than 600 people live there. But there’s also one in eastern Illinois, on the outskirts of Kankakee. More than 12,000 people call it home.

Imagine the varied experiences people have had, all of them living in a place called Bradley. Someday, I’d like to explore them all, just to get some more insight into the diversity of places that are similar in name only. And in a house on wheels that just may be a possibility.

But I wonder if they also prefer to be called Brad.

ABE LINCOLN AND TED KACZYNSKI

Brad Herzog — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 16:44:00 -0400

Today marks the 200th anniversary of the day Abraham Lincoln was born. Best I can tell, there are at least two-dozen towns named Lincoln in the United States. Oddly, I think I’ve only been to maybe three of them.

My cousin and his family used to live in a restored schoolhouse in picturesque Lincoln, Vermont. But my one visit there happened to coincide with the only time I ever contracted poison ivy, so it wasn’t as enjoyable as it could have been. And last August, we stopped in Nebraska’s version to get the oil changed in the RV’s generator. But that’s about all we did there, so it wasn’t particularly exciting.

All things considered, I’d have to say my most interesting visit to a land called Lincoln came just under four years ago when I motored through Lincoln, Montana. Because that’s where the Unabomber lived.

Situated high up along Highway 200 and named for the fact that there was a gold strike there at approximately the same time President Lincoln was assassinated, Lincoln is just a typical Montana mountain town – some motels, antique stores, several hole-in-the-wall casinos with names like Bootlegger and Wild Jacks – and, of course, an RV campground.

Indeed, there may be no better way to illustrate how ubiquitous RV parks are than to point to one in Lincoln. After all, the town is so inconspicuous that Ted Kaczynski thought it would be a good place to remove himself from society. Most folks knew him simply as “The Hermit,” the guy who lived in a shack and rode his bicycle into town for groceries on occasion, a straw hat covering his scraggly hair. But the FBI finally caught up with him.

I arrived in Lincoln a few years later and enjoyed a sandwich at PondeRose’s Restaurant, a tiny café alongside the Moose Joose Saloon. The restaurant’s motto: “We treat you like family.” (So I expected the waitress to tell me to get my elbows off the table and call my sister more often).

“Do you get tired of travelers popping in here and asking only about the Unabomber?” I asked the waitress.

“All the time,” she said.

So I didn’t bother asking directions to the man’s mailbox, which apparently can still be seen outside of town. Instead, I drove about 25 miles up the road, almost to Rogers Pass and the Continental Divide. There, a sign at a highway turnoff announced that “the coldest official temperature ever recorded in the continental United States occurred at a mining camp near here on Jan. 20, 1954, when the temperature dropped to 70 degrees below zero.”

So I’d say Montana’s Lincoln is famous for a couple of things, but I’m guessing the town might like to be famous for neither.

DON'T FORGET TO WRITE

Brad Herzog — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 19:55:00 -0400

Following up my previous post about Shakespearean towns, I did some atlas studying, and I realized that Bill Shakespeare isn’t the only literary icon for whom American places are named. How about this for an interesting RV adventure: Pack up a few dozen pieces of classic literature – you know, books like A Moveable Feast and Call of the Wild and A Tale of Two Cities – and read from them while passing through a hamlet bearing the author’s name.

Come to think of it, there is the germ of an idea for a book in there. I’m thinking along the lines of an experimental sort of travel memoir in which, for instance, the passages about the hamlet of Hemingway, South Carolina (“Barbecue Capital of the World”) are written in Hemingway’s minimalist style. (They fed us country-style pork. It was barbecued. You could say it was tasty.)

Here’s an author-themed itinerary, somewhat geographically feasible:

Orwell (Pennsylvania)

Poe (West Virginia)

Dante (Virginia)

Ivanhoe (North Carolina)

Hemingway (South Carolina)

Milton (Florida)

Kipling (Mississippi)

Frost (Louisiana)

London (Arkansas)

Virgil (Kansas)

Bronte (Texas)

Thoreau (New Mexico)

Shelley (Idaho)

Lawrence (Washington)

Melville (North Dakota)

Tolstoy (South Dakota)

Dickens (Iowa)

Plato (Indiana)

Granted, for all I know, the above towns were christened without a thought for literature. Maybe they were named after Jebediah Dickens and Bubba Hemingway and Ralph Poe. Plus, I must admit that I don't have the guts to try this book idea. But I sure might like to try the trip. Maybe instead of writing along the way, I could put out the RV’s awning, pull out a folding chair and get to reading some of the classics.

I don’t suppose there’s a town named Rowling…

SHAKESPEARE ON WHEELS

Brad Herzog — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 18:10:00 -0400

There used to be a couple of communities in Florida, both of them settled sometime in the 1850s. One had a few general stores and some other businesses. The other had, at the very least, a post office. The towns were only about two miles apart, each one’s destiny certainly intertwined with the other’s. But today they’re both no more. They’re dead.

Their names? Romeo and Juliette.

Okay, so the spelling of the latter is a bit off. But c’mon, doesn’t that kind of give you ghost town goosebumps?.

And why not Shakespeare, after all? He was the Michael Phelps of the written word. Nobody else even comes close. He coined some 1700 words that are today common elements of our language – everything from “courtship” and “cold-blooded” to “mimic” and “moonbeam.” He also invented dozens of phrases. Without the Immortal Bard, nothing would “vanish into thin air” or be a “tower of strength” or be “without rhyme or reason.” My next travel memoir, due out in May, is called GREEK TO ME. The trip is a cross-country version of Homer’s epic poems, but the phrase – “It’s all Greek to me…” – is Shakespeare’s.

(I must interrupt myself here to note that one of my all-time favorite films is Shakespeare in Love. Truly brilliant. Among the cleverest moments are the ones that suggest comical sources of some of the Bard’s most famous lines. But that’s really the only genius mass-market adaptation I can think of. When “Taming of the Shrew” becomes “Ten Things I Hate About You,” something is lost in the translation.)

Anyway, refusing to “budge an inch” is another Shakespeare phrase. But if you want to do some serious budging – like, say, a cross-country RV journey – you can take a drive through Shakespearean places. They’re all small towns (in this case maybe we should call them hamlets). Among the possibilities:

From Othello, there’s, well, Othello (Washington) and a pair of towns in Texas named Desdemona and Iago. From Troilus and Cressida, there’s Ajax (Louisiana), Achilles (Virginia), Hector (Alabama) and Paris (Kentucky). From Twelfth Night, there’s Viola (Delaware) and Isabella (Georgia). From Julius Caesar, there’s Caesar (Mississippi), Brutus (Michigan) and Portia (Arkansas).

Or you can simply pilot your RV along Interstate 10 into the southwestern corner of New Mexico, just south of the city of Lordsburg. There you’ll find a place called – that’s right! – Shakespeare. This one’s a ghost town, too. But it offers occasional tours. And, in perhaps the ultimate anachronism, it has a website (shakespeareghosttown.com), which states that “Shakespeare is completely uncommercialized.”

Ah, if only that were true…

HOMER, SWEET HOMER

Brad Herzog — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 21:43:00 -0400

The first full length episode of “The Simpsons” aired on December 17, 1989, exactly 19 years ago today. Pretty amazing that it’s still on the air. Even more amazing: it’s still funny… and nobody has aged a bit. Homer and his family live in Springfield, of course. The big question: Springfield, Where?

There are whole websites devoted to the fictional Springfield – lists of clues to its location, a map of the town, that sort of thing. Basically, the geographical clues suggest that it is nowhere and everywhere – which may be the point. There are nearly three-dozen cities and towns named Springfield in the U.S., as well as another few dozen townships (11 in Ohio alone). I maintain that the Simpsons live in all of them, and my RV journeys have allowed me to visit a good many of them. (In fact, at least a couple of episodes feature Homer and family in an RV, purchased – somewhere in Springfield – at Bob’s RV Round-Up.)

Here’s a look at a dozen episodes of the animated series, along with the Springfields that seem to fit the bill:

Feb. 11, 1990: Lisa Simpson, feeling down, meets a fellow blues musician, Bleedin’ Gums Murphy. (Oregon’s Springfield annually holds a Filbert Festival, including the Northwest Harmonica Championships)

Nov. 1, 1990: Pollution from Montgomery Burns’s nuclear power plant results in a local population of three-eyed fish (Idaho’s Springfield boasts one of the largest private fish hatcheries in the West)

Nov. 8, 1990: Dancin’ Homer becomes the team mascot for the Springfield Isotopes baseball team (Missouri’s Springfield is home to the minor league Springfield Cardinals)

Nov. 15, 1990: Bart and Todd Flanders enter a miniature golf tournament at Sir Putt-A-Lots (New Jersey’s Springfield is where you can find famous Baltustrol Golf Club, which regular hosts major PGA tournaments)

May 2, 1991: Marge signs up for Reverend Lovejoy's marriage retreat at Catfish Lake (New York's Springfield is alongside Lake Glimmerglass State Park)

Sept. 26, 1991: The Simpsons win a trip to Washington, D.C., where Lisa's faith in democracy is shaken (the Springfield in Illinois launched the careers of Abraham Lincoln and Barack Obama)

Nov. 7, 1991: Homer moonlights to pay for a pony for Lisa (Wisconsin's Springfield boasts a horseback riding trail)

March, 5, 1995: Fictional Springfield holds a film festival to boost the town's sagging popularity (many real Springfield's hold unique annual events – West Virginia's Peach Festival, Colorado's Spring Equinox, Minnesota's Christmas in July…)

Dec. 7, 1997: Homer buys a 1960s hot-rod convertible at the local police auction (Vermont's Springfield features a Corvette Museum)

Nov. 7, 1999: The Simpsons move to an old farm where Homer and Bart conjure up "Tomacco," an incredibly addictive cross between tobacco and tomatoes (Kentucky's Springfield has an annual Sorghum and Tobacco Festival)

Feb. 8, 2004: Homer's co-workers, Lenny and Carl, are re-imagined as Lewis and Clark (South Dakota's Springfield overlooks Lewis and Clark Lake on the Missouri River)

May 16, 2004: Bart participates in the annual Springfield Elementary Donkey Basketball Tournament (the Springfield in Massachusetts is home to the Basketball Hall of Fame)

Here’s a pic from the hoops Hall:

TRICK OR TREAT

Brad Herzog — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 15:58:00 -0400

Today is the day before Halloween, but you never hear anyone call it Halloween Eve, do you? That’s probably because Halloween is also known as All Hallow’s Eve. So All Hallow’s Eve Eve would be plain silly. Regardless, have fun celebrating a holiday that promotes poor nutrition, panhandling and anonymous vandalism. Is that a bit cynical?

Actually, I enjoy watching my kids enjoy the holiday. This year Jesse is going as Harry Potter, and Luke is dressing up as a wizard. (Yes, I’ve been reading J.K. Rowling’s books to them. You could say they’re hooked.) Meanwhile, I’ve been trying remember what costumes I used to wear during my childhood, and I have this disturbing lack of recall. However, I think I know why: Because I’m pretty sure I went dressed as the Fonz for about seven Halloweens in a row. Really, I used to have the hair for it. I wonder if Amy ever went as Pinky Tuscadero.

Anyway, in honor of Halloween I’m going to offer up a list of towns with a little flavor. America offers a smorgasbord of such places, and I think it would be a tasty RV excursion – a treat, if you will:

You can begin in a West Virginia hamlet called Kitchen. Maybe from there you can drive to the North Carolina town of Frying Pan Landing. See where I’m going with this? Actually, you should really start with a good breakfast. How about Two Egg (Florida), Bacon (Washington) and Toast (North Carolina). Follow that with some fruit salad for lunch – Cherry (Tennessee), Strawberry (Arizona), Cranberry (North Carolina), Orange (Vermont), Plum (Kentucky) and a dash of Lemon (Pennsylvania) and Lime (Oregon). Or maybe a Bread Loaf (Vermont), Fries (Virginia) and a plate of Artichoke (Minnesota), Tomato (Arkansas), Olive (California) and Pimento (Indiana).

You can have a snack before dinner – a mix of Raisin (Texas), Almond (New York), Walnut (Mississippi), Peanut (California) and Pecan (Pennsylvania). Follow that with an appetizer. Personally, I always enjoy a good Oyster (Virginia). Finally, the main course. How about Chicken (Alaska) or Veal (Georgia). Or maybe Corn (Oklahoma). Or, if your stomach can handle it, there’s always Chili (Indiana) and Tomales (California). For a side dish, you have a choice between Noodle (Texas), Rice (California) and Wild Rice (North Dakota).

You’ll need to wash it all down with a drink. Perhaps Goodwater (Alabama). Or maybe you prefer something with a little caffeine (since you’re doing the driving). How about a Coke (Texas) or Tea (South Dakota) or Coffee (Georgia) with Cream (Wisconsin) or Buttermilk (Kansas). If you’re not doing the driving, I suppose you can secretly add some Bourbon (Indiana) or Cognac (North Carolina). And, of course, we can’t forget dessert. Try some Popcorn (Indiana), or why not make a stop in Pie Town (New Mexico)?

Unfortunately, so far Pie Town is the only one of these hamlets that I’ve actually been able to visit during one of my family RV trips. It’s along the Continental Divide, a little burp of a place. But let me tell you, the pie there – at the Pie Town Café – is DELICIOUS.

MILES & SMILES

Brad Herzog — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 03:08:00 -0400

Did you know that Friday was World Smile Day?

It’s true. Apparently, Harvey Ball, the fellow who designed the ubiquitous yellow smiley face in 1963, decreed it to be so. The inaugural World Smile Day was celebrated nine years ago. There was a proclamation on the floor of Congress. Schoolchildren created smiley cards. The U.S. Postal Service unveiled a smiley-face stamp. Dignitaries showed up to… grin, I guess. This year, in celebration of the 10^th Annual World Smile Day, the World Smile Foundation is sending packages of smiley cookies to U.S. soldiers serving overseas. Makes it kind of hard to be cynical about the whole thing, no?

Harvey, who died in 2001, called Worcester (Massachusetts) his hometown. On the first Friday in October, it is the epicenter of everything smiley. (Unless, of course, the Red Sox have been forced to end their season prematurely – then all bets are off).

Anyway, you don’t necessarily have to travel to Worcester to find happiness. You can go to Happyland. It’s a small town in Oklahoma. In what will be a continuing effort to offer possible small-town themes for RV road trips, I suggest any smile-seekers (and those seeking a certain satisfaction, even a perfection in life) try visiting these places:

Happyland, Oklahoma
Pleasantville, Indiana
Pleasureville, Kentucky
Carefree, Arizona
Delight, Maryland
Bliss, New York
Harmony, California

Nirvana, Michigan

Utopia, Texas

Eden, South Dakota

Paradise, Pennsylvania

Little Heaven, Delaware

Oasis, Nevada

Bountiful, Utah

Peaceful Valley, Colorado

Eureka, California

Bonanza, Oregon

Avalon, Mississippi

El Dorado, Kansas

Camelot, Tennessee

Or you can set the bar lower. There’s another town in Oklahoma, about 40 miles southeast of Tulsa at the southern end of Fort Gibson Lake. It’s a little crossroads called… Okay.