Gemini Gypsy

Before air travel got cheap enough to open the country up, vacations were limited by how far you were willing to drive. The harsh reality of distance and time meant that if you grew up in the Midwest, for instance, anything beyond the Rocky Mountains wasn’t on the table unless you wanted to spend the better part of your vacation in the car. California might as well have been on the moon. And that only added to the mystique. Movies and TV were made in California. The stylized picture that the entertainment industry painted of Los Angeles—everyone was tan, beautiful, talented, interesting—was just accepted as fact by people in the Midwest. Since the 2,000 miles was too goddamn far to drive, especially in a station wagon, how were we to know any different?

When I was 13, my parents bought a Dodge conversion van for general family comfort and more manageable vacations. It had captain’s chairs that could swivel around and face the back bench seat, which folded down into a bed. It had a table with cup holders that became a card table when it was turned over. One of our family friends, who was in college at the time, referred to it as the “fuck truck.” The conversion van was a game changer for comfort, but it did not radically alter our trip radius. California was still not on the table. It took a level of commitment, interest, and wanderlust that we as a family did not possess.

This episode is the story of Lisa, a massage therapist who had all of those attributes working in her favor as well as the luxury of time. At 25, she left Crown Point, Indiana, headed west, and made it to the promised land of California, lured in part by driving the Pacific Coast Highway. It’s a love story between a woman, the myth of California, and a conversion van. She performed an important service for people in the Midwest: she proved not only that the trip was worthwhile but also that California was better than advertised.

One other note: The road trip might traditionally be thought of as the province of men. They likely make up the majority of road trippers, and they have definitely dominated the culture and lore around asphalt adventures. All that may be so. But women have had their own share of experiences, and it’s important to hear their stories. Anyway, I didn’t create this podcast to be the audio equivalent of a Flomax commercial—older dudes driving down the road in a classic convertible. No no. Let me get out of the way so the lady can tell her story.

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Love, Daytona Beach, and Pop-Tarts

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