The Urge to be Someplace Else

Open a drawer in a motel room and there’s a Gideon Bible, right?  Not always. 

In the class of motel I frequent there is often nothing, but on a recent trip I found Gideon has some competition.

This was a new one on me:

Here’s the Amazon description of this book:

“The Bhagavad-gita is the main source-book on yoga and a concise summary of India’s Vedic wisdom. Yet remarkably, the setting for this best-known classic of spiritual literature is an ancient Indian battlefield.

“At the last moment before entering battle, the great warrior Arjuna begins to wonder about the real meaning of his life. Why should he fight against his friends and relatives? Why does he exist? Where is he going after death? In the Bhagavad-gita, Lord Krsna, Arjuna’s friend and spiritual master, brings His disciple from perplexity to spiritual enlightenment. In the course of doing so, Krsna concisely but definitively explains transcendental knowledge; karma-yoga, jnana-yoga, dhyana-yoga, and bhakti-yoga; knowledge of the Absolute; devotional service; the three modes of material nature; the divine and demoniac natures; and much more.

“Bhagavad-gita As It Is is the largest-selling, most widely used edition of the Gita in the world.”

And then there’s the Jehovah’s Witnesses.  I found this card in the drawer of another motel.

The venerable Gideon bible distribution concept began in 1898 with two traveling salesmen sharing the same hotel room in Boscobel, Wisconsin. 

(I know that in 2026 that statement carries some meaning that it probably did not have in 1898 and I say that because I have a cousin whose wife’s family still owns a stagecoach stop/inn on the Boston to Montreal run that has ledgers that showed men used to share not only rooms, but beds, back in those days, because it was cheaper. In the case of these two it is explained they had to share a room because there was a convention in town and rooms were scarce).

Anyway, John H. Nicholson of Janesville and Samuel E. Hill of Beloit  became friends and decided to form an association to unite traveling salesmen in evangelism.

Nicholson and Hill, along with a third man, William J. Knights of Janesville, formed The Gideons International as an evangelical Christian association for men in 1899, taking the name from the figure Gideon depicted in Judges 6.  Bible distribution began in 1908 in rooms at the Superior Hotel in Superior, Montana.  These days it distributes complete bibles or portions thereof in over 100 languages, in mostly lodging rooms, in addition to medical facilities, schools, military bases, as well as jails and prisons

As of 2022, The Gideons reported having 269,500 members in 200 countries and territories. Membership is of current or retired business or professional men (except clergy) aged 21 or older who are members in good standing of an evangelical or Protestant church and adhere to the core spiritual beliefs of the organization.  Wives of Gideons may similarly join the Auxiliary of The Gideons International.

Room 19, at left, of the Central House Hotel in Boscobol is still kept as it was in 1898. 

The building is on the National Register of Historic Places, where it is noted as the birthplace of Gideons International.

For more about The Gideons, here’s a book suggestion:

The Swift River, as I have come to characterize it, never disappoints. 

It’s a slow-moving, cold-water stream in central Massachusetts that winds south from the huge Quabbin Reservoir, the drinking water supply for much of the thirsty Boston area. I find it a dependably quiet, peaceful place to paddle.

And it has some decent yard art along the banks. And even a stolen beware of alligator sign from Florida.  Not many rivers up this way can make that claim.

I was there just a few days ago, and I must say that a few of the art pieces could do with a bit of tender loving care.  And maybe a new installation here and there would be nice. But on the whole they are holding up well.

Below are a few then and now pairings, followed by the rest of the photos from my most recent visit.

The Alligator sign. My first sighting of this was in 2013. It is very worn but still standing.

This couple, on the contrary, has held up well over the years. I know they get covered in a tarp during the winter. Here they are today, on the right, and six years ago, on the left. It would help my view of them if the weeds got trimmed.

This classy mermaid was in a pink Barbie car back in 2020. These days she’s on a tricycle and could do with a hair and makeup session.

The dragon could use some body work but is still impressive after six years.

This one has faded a bit in six years, but hangs in there.

My first photo of this guy was back in 2016, when he still had full wings.

Not much has bothered this guy in the last three years.

And this sign remains timeless, I hope, though the log it’s on has moved a bit in the past three years.

Below are all of my photos from the other day. Enjoy!

Today was the first of many paddles I’ll be organizing this season up here in the northeast.  It was especially nice because it was on the Salmon River down in Moodus, CT, a favorite venue for me, and because there were a lot of familiar friendly folks participating.

The wildlife didn’t cooperate much, keeping their distance, but the weather sure did: warm with a slight cooling breeze.  The weather so far this season has been iffy, to be charitable about it.  I’ve been up here for a month and this weekend was by far the best.

The photos are below.  Click on any one of them to start a slide show of the larger versions.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted any photos of nicely reycled gas stations here. It’s a matter of not doing so many rambling road trips lately. I did venture up to Mississippi late last year and I meandered a bit on my ride from Florida to Connecticut this spring, so I have a few new ones. They are below, and they will of course make it to the full collection.

Vicksburg, MS. The Amazing Grace Restaurant. It was the “Now Serving Breakfast” sign on this nicely reused station that grabbed my attention. It was worth the stop. Since my stop in December, it has moved across the street and has been renamed The View, in honor of its view of the Mississippi River.

Wilmer, AL. This classic old style station is now the office of a used car lot. It would make a great tiny residence and the bones look good.

Palm Springs, CA. My friend, Leslie Dreier, sent me this photo. Even a check cashing store looks a bit glam in Palm Springs.

Greenville, MS. This is an appropriate style of classic gas station to house something like the Delta Monument Company. The building is a monument of sorts all by itself.

Florala, AL. This station’s been in the same family since 1925 and there’s quite the story behind it.  Ed Smith operated it for 53 years—until 1978– when he was killed in a robbery.   A suspect was found, and tried, but acquitted. The crime remained unsolved for 38 years.  In 2016, that same man, in jail for life for a murder in 1995, confessed to Ed Smith’s killing.  Ed’s son, Charlie, who took over the station after his father’s death, still owns it.  It was all decorated for the holidays when I happened by in December of 2025.

Pearson, GA. This old station is now Jo’s Cafe. I dropped in, of course, for breakfast.

Natchez, MS. The Midtown Grill. I like the way the pump island has become a long built-in picnic table.

Columbia, MS. The Refilling Station. At first I thought it was a cleverly-named restaurant or bar, but according to its Facebook page, “We are an eco friendly, bulk retailer for dry goods, household products and personal care products.”

That’s it for now. Don’t forget, the whole collection is here.

My birthdays in the past few decades have been largely low-key, for a few reasons:  I don’t much care if they are celebrated, I don’t have a large extended family living nearby, and my daughter and family live in Connecticut and I stay where it’s warm in March.

My daughter and I actually share a birthday.  She was born on mine in 1980.  Restaurants with ‘free breakfast on your birthday’ specials were always fun with us, and still would be if we lived closer together.

My birthdays this year and last have been far more social than usual, though, and here’s why. 

A high school classmate who lives in Florida has been hosting other classmates who live in Florida, or who are snowbirding, to her house on a late weekend in March every year.   It’s a lunch on the Saturday at her house, dinner at a restaurant on Saturday night and brunch back at her house on the Sunday.

Shows you what a magnet Florida is, doesn’t it? We’re talking about the class of 1962 from Bradley-Bourbonnais Community High School in Bradley, Illinois.

The calendar did its magic and my birthday, March 22, has fallen on that Florida reunion weekend for two years now, last year on the Saturday and this year on the Sunday.  I think maybe it was back when I was six and my mom invited all the cousins, yes, even the girls, when I have had so many folks singing happy birthday to me as there were last Sunday.

And most all of them I have known since I was a teenager.  When does that happen these days for folks in my generation?  If you’re at a senior warehouse facility, yes they’re all your age, but your link is you’re old and you moved in a year or so ago. 

In this mobile, fragmented world we live in it is highly unusual for someone my age to be getting together with so many folks he’s known nearly 70 years to celebrate a birthday.

As I said, the calendar cooperated.  And I will admit I am happy it did. It made for a nice birthday. Thanks all.

Here we are in the photo below.  As always, I am the tallest.

I could feel it when I saw this huge sign atop a hill along the road in south central Alabama:

Here’s the thought: “Somewhere in town there will be a big sign proclaiming this place to be the ‘City of Opportunity.’

Right?

Well…yes, finally, but almost not.

During my search, I found this:

“Shop Opp.”  Not bad.

And this really nice farmer’s market, all decked out for the holidays:

And finally, the one thing I’d been looking for:

There it was, the slogan I’d been seeking. From the obvious age and condition of this huge mural I suspect the “City of Opportunity” slogan had been used for many many years some long time ago and the place just got weary of it and moved on.   This was the only use of that slogan I found around town.

According to Wikipedia, the city’s slogan is indeed “The City of OPPortunity” but there’s no mention of that on the city website or Facebook page.    The Chamber of Commerce, however, comes through with this logo:

This 25-square-mile burg of some 6,700 souls was named after Henry Opp, a lawyer for the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, at one time one of the south’s premier rail lines, operating on 6,000 miles of track in 14 states.

It’s the hometown of three NFL players, Tim Jessie, James Logan and Lamar Rogers, and also of Alberta Martin, believed to be the last surviving widow of a Confederate soldier.  She died at age 97 in 2004.

She married 81-year-old veteran William Jasper Martin in 1927, when she was 21.  At the time, the healthy Civil War pension checks were said to be a motive for many younger women marrying older, often widowed, veterans.  She was one of four such women known to have survived into the 21^st Century.  The last of them died just five years ago.

I may wander back to Opp one of these days.  It’s home to a pretty big Rattlesnake Rodeo, a three-day event celebrating the Eastern Diamondback rattlesnake.  Coming up from March 27 to 29 this year it features a beauty pageant, snake cooking and handling demonstrations, kids’ rides, a car race, a 5K run, arts and crafts, and musical entertainment.  It’s been going strong for 60 years.

I stumbled across the lowest of the highs last month.  The lowest high point in all of the high points of each of the country’s 50 states, that is.

It’s a mere 345 feet above mean sea level and it’s near Lakewood, Florida, way up north of me just a couple miles south of the Alabama state line.  That’s lower than many buildings in the state.

The high point is atop Britton Hill, named after early 1900s lumber mill baron William Henry Britton.  The surrounding Lakewood Park is on land donated by the family in 1976.

Where’s the second-lowest state highpoint in the country?  It’s complicated.  The official one, marked with a National Geodetic Survey benchmark monument, is the Ebright Azimuth in Delaware, at 448 (447.85) feet. 

Later work by the Delaware Geological Survey, however, found a point in a nearby mobile home park to be some two feet higher.

The wording on the official monument sign slides by all this conveniently by stating that “The Delaware Geological Survey through its relationship with the National Geodetic Survey has determined that this bench mark monument is in the vicinity of the highest natural elevation in the state.”

If you’re looking to visit every one of the highest state points in the US (and there are some folks who do) you’ll be happy to know that going to the Ebright Azimuth sign will fill your obligation in Delaware, according to the standards of Summitpost.org, a group that tracks such things.  You need not trespass on private property to find the marker in the trailer park, and another on a private road.  It is in fact discouraged.

And for a time it was thought that Delaware, not Florida, had the country’s lowest high point, simply because the game Trivial Pursuit had it wrong.

I’m a sucker for modest looking motels that sit up on a hill and have nice overhangs.

And I’m a sucker for pink flamingos.

What happens when you put all those flamingos in a row and add a swing and a rocking chair on a front porch?

The American Inn in Camden, Alabama, sucked me right in, as these photos illustrate.

So be good, folks.  He’s out there keeping an eye on you.

My pool service emails me a photo of the sparkling water at the completion of each weekly visit.

Look who they caught in the shot!

Spotted in Natchez, Mississippi.