Downtown Gilroy looks like the

Downtown Gilroy looks like the perfect place for my pizzeria that will never exist.

Downtown Gilroy looks like the

Downtown Gilroy looks like the perfect place for my pizzeria that will never exist.

Downtown Gilroy looks like the

Downtown Gilroy looks like the perfect place for my pizzeria that will never exist.

Coastal California

In the coastal region of California between San Francisco and Los Angeles, including those cities, the local people just will not stop to offer you a ride, regardless of how deep you may be in the middle of BFE (Butt-Fucking Egypt). Right now I can only remember receiving rides from six people in that area. (I think that's all of them; they were all last year.) Three of those drivers were from New York; two of them were from Mexico, one of which didn't speak English but still found enough kindness in his heart to give a white boy a ride and $5; and the other ride was with three 20-ish British guys touring California for about a month. --> North of San Francisco it's a totally different story, though. In northern California, people will wait in line to give you a ride and a big fat joint. --> Right now I'm walking south on Monterey Road, about 20 miles south of San Jose. I should be
about to Gilroy (the garlic capital of the world!) tonight if I don't get a ride.

Busted!

I was handcuffed yesterday for the first time in my life. It wasn't really a big deal, though; I wasn't arrested or anything. It was just a rookie CHP officer learning how to do his job. Why was I handcuffed, you may ask. Well, because I was walking along the 101 freeway south of San Jose. As is the norm when cops 'pull me over' on the freeway, these guys gave me a ride to the next exit (which was less than a mile from where they found me). It made sense for them to cuff me because unlike most police cruisers I've ridden in, theirs had no barrier between the front and back seats. It also had much more leg room than the typical cruiser, I might add. --> Shortly after my encounter with Ponch & John, I stepped into a McDonald's to fill a water bottle. Seeing Bill Maher on Larry King, I took a seat and was soon joined by a guy named Eric (Zamora?) after he inquired about my gear. We talked
for like two and a half hours. Very cool guy. I've walked all the way from SF, with much zig-zagging.

I am Forrest Gump

Some people dull life's pain with alcohol. Others do it with heroin or religion. I can think of one guy who did it by running from coast to coast and back again. Me, I do it by walking miles and miles almost every day with more than 35 percent of my own body weight strapped to my back. You may wonder, 'Does it kill the pain?' All I can say is FUCK NO! I've been taking an average of about 40,000 steps a day over the last several days, and with each step all I think about is Missy, wondering why it turned out like this; wondering why I never get what I want. --> Sometimes when I walk, people yell to me, "Hey Forrest Gump!" I nod and continue walking. While it may seem funny that people greet me this way, I really am Forrest Gump. Like myself, Forrest Gump knew exactly what he wanted from life but never got it, except for a few short glimpses here and there. And then Jenny died. Life
fucking sucks.

Aimless is not a love

Aimless is not a love story. Forget the rest of the story because it was too perfect to be real.

Looks like Stanford University is

Looks like Stanford University is going to make an excellent campground tonight.

No comments?

Are y'all telling me none of my recent posts are worthy of comments? Do I have to be an asshole to get comments or something?

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Here's another pic of me and Missy. --> I just ate at Wendy's after not eating all day and not even seeing a restaurant or store since this morning. Anyway, after ordering three .99 items at Wendy's, the cashier told me my order came to $3.22, which is about what I expected it to cost. While I waited to pay, however, I noticed that the register read "2.14," so I thought maybe she was not going to charge me for my fries. But when I gave her the $3.22, she put all of it in the register drawer. --> Later, while I was eating, I noticed that my receipt said "TOTAL 2.14, CASH 3.00, CHANGE 0.86," which made me realize the innocent-looking cashier omitted the fries on purpose, knowing she could fetch them herself and pocket $1.08. --> I thought about telling the manager at first, but then I reconsidered. Instead I figured, 'Fuck it. More power to her. They're ripping her off; let her
reciprocate.' --> I don't even know where I am. I think I'm south of South San Francisco.

Aimless: A Love Story?

OK, it's time to flash back about five days.

Immediately following his Dallas delivery, it looked like Vernon Almighty would be going to Indiana or something, but I guess he was able to decline that load because he needed to sleep. The next morning when he found out where he'd be going from Dallas, he woke me up to let me know we'd be going to San Leandro. He knew I'd be pretty excited about that.

By this time, having read Missy's somewhat recent e-mail message, I felt much better about the state of our blossoming friendship (which I've patiently tried to initiate for almost four years now), so I sent a text message to her e-mail address.

At 12:32 PM EDT on August 14, I said simply: I bet you could use a vacation in San Francisco right about now.

I didn't necessarily expect a response because, well, I mean, how does someone in Oxford, Mississippi respond to a message like that?

So the day continued as any normal day might. Vernon and I took US 287 from Dallas to Amarillo, where we switched to I-40 West toward New Mexico. About 70 miles before reaching Amarillo, we went through some nasty weather. I'm pretty sure it was the kind of weather that forms tornadoes, so it was a little scary. Aside from the scare, I really enjoyed the sights along Route 287 and I recommend driving that route if you ever get a chance.

At 2:21 AM EDT on August 15 we were in New Mexico, approaching Albuquerque, when my phone beeped four times, indicating a new text message. For some reason, only part of the message came through. It said: ancisco around monday or so. When will you be there?

With the 662 area code and the San Francisco reference, I knew it must have been Missy, but I wasn't 100% sure, so I responded at 2:28: Is this Missy? (Don't know your number.) Your message was incomplete. Are you going to be in San Francisco?

After sending that message, I received the first part of the initial message (2:26): Hey, it's Missy. Guess where i am? Sacramento! There's a pizza spinning event that me and caroline are doing here. We were thinking about going to san fr

Then I received a response to my message at 2:29: Yes and yep. I think around monday, with caroline.

Missy (2:36): Let's meet up.

Ryan (2:37): I'm game. This is crazy.

Ryan (2:39): We're coming up on Albuquerque. Should be in Bay Area Saturday afternoon.

Missy (2:42): I know! When will you be in sf?

Ryan (2:44): Probably Saturday. Have no plans of leaving right away, either.

Missy (2:48): What are your lodging plans?

Ryan (2:53): You know I almost always sleep in my tent, right?

Missy (2:59): Yeah. Well i'm off to bed now. I'll contact you when i'm close to arriving. If it's not monday, I'll let you know ahead of time. Goodnight!

Ryan (3:01): Very good night! ; )

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

The most beautiful girl in my world

Here's a picture of Alcatraz. (Did I spell that right?) Oh yeah, and there's Missy and Ryan, too. You have no idea how much I adore this girl. Just the thought of her warms my heart and helps me through some of the toughest times. She's gone now, headed to San Jose with her sister Caroline, where they'll be picking up their mom at the airport before going to LA for a trade show. As we walked through Fisherman's Wharf, at least a couple people thought we were 'together,' which is how I think it ought to be. I don't know if she feels the same, but something inside tells me she does. We'll see. I just like being with her. I think very highly of Caroline, too. (Thanks for taking the pics, Caroline.)

Are there still any Berkeley

Are there still any Berkeley students out there reading this? Or Billy Lieberknecht? If so, I'll be there in about an hour. Call me or something.

Fate?

You'll never believe the things that have happened to me the last few days. --> Remember how I was hoping to see a certain girl (Missy) in Oxford, MS a few months ago? Remember how I left Oxford disappointed because she did not respond to my texts/e-mail? Well, it turns out that she didn't get them until July. --> I checked my e-mail a few days ago for the first time since June. There was a message from Missy, dated July 6th--a response to an e-mail I'd sent her in which I apologized for acting kind of obsessive in my texts. Her response was friendly; surprisingly friendly. I responded to let her know I'd just checked my e-mail for the first time since she sent it. --> Long story short: I'll be seeing her in a few days... I've just told you approximately 1 percent of this story. The rest of it will blow your mind.

All the way

Here's a picture of Vernon. By the way, I'm still riding with him, even though he went to Buffalo while I was at the truck stop near Erie last weekend. We're leaving Dallas and heading to San Leandro, CA. --> Last night when we arrived in Dallas and exited the interstate to deliver some engines to an International plant, there was a dude unconscious in his car at a stop light. There was an older guy in another lane who had already stopped to check on him; I think he was talking to 911 when we stopped. After Vernon and I got out of the truck, I stood by the unconscious driver's window as a fire truck approached. Before the firemen arrived, the driver regained consciousness but had no idea what was going on. When his foot came off the brake pedal, he began coasting into the intersection, so I yelled in the window for him to pull the parking brake. Still not quite awake, he pulled the
lever after several seconds. He seemed more alert by then, so we took off, leaving him with the firemen.

Vernon

Leaving home Thursday July 31 just after 5:00, I embarked on a 17-mile walk to I-70 Exit 79 (Ohio), where there is a TA, a Pilot, and several fast food joints. By Friday afternoon I’d arrived at the exit, where the excessive heat and humidity had me pretty beat. Hanging around the TA fuel islands for a few hours that evening, I didn’t get a ride, but that was OK because I wanted another night of good rest before hopping into some stranger’s truck. So I found a nice place to sleep pretty early that night.

Uncomfortable with TA’s layout, I crossed the overpass Saturday morning to check out the Pilot station. Although I usually prefer TA over Pilot, I liked this particular Pilot station, partly because I found out right away that the management had no problem with me being there, as long as I wasn’t bugging drivers for money, which I never do. After a few hours with no ride offers, I walked back across the interstate for a light (cheap) lunch at McDonald’s, then returned to Pilot, where a driver immediately asked me where I was headed.

When I responded “Anywhere,” Vernon Mack told me he was going to Buffalo, then gave me the signal to come on over and get in the truck. So I climbed up into the truck and put my stuff in the sleeper, and we were gone.

A few minutes after we hit the road, Vernon, who is black with some Cherokee, German, and other blood, began telling me about one of his previous jobs. For ten years he worked at Warner Brothers Studios in LA, doing security for live-audience TV shows, a job he acquired after a chance encounter with Queen Latifah, who was largely unknown at the time. Even though I had not even mentioned my interest in making movies, Vernon proceeded to tell me about how I could land an entry-level job at WB, which could lead to cooler jobs like editing. He told me who to talk to and stuff like that. It’s something I’ll definitely look into whenever I get to LA.

Vernon’s load was bound for Connecticut, but he planned to spend almost a full day in Buffalo first, visiting his mom and various other friends and family. By the time we neared Buffalo, Vernon and I had established a healthy rapport. So instead of dropping me off in Buffalo, as was the initial plan, he ended up inviting me to hang out with him and his people, which I did. He also invited me to keep riding with him beyond Buffalo, which was a fine idea with me.

On our night in Buffalo, Vernon parked the truck behind his mother’s inner-city apartment. Shortly we rode with his sister to her house, where we hung out with her husband and one of her husband’s old friends for a while, drinking a couple screwdrivers and having some nice conversation. Eventually one of Vernon’s cousins (Cliff) showed up and took us to a barber shop in another primarily black neighborhood, where we met yet another cousin, Tony (who owns the barber shop), before going off to an apartment in downtown Buffalo, where we hung out and imbibed all night.

The next day, as we sat on the porch of the housing project where he grew up (and where his mom still lives), Vernon pointed to a third-floor apartment in the next building and told me that’s where Rick James lived before he hit the big time. Vernon had a lot of stories to tell about Rick James and some other characters that came from Buffalo’s projects, but I can’t remember enough to retell them.

Late Sunday afternoon we hit the road again, heading east from Buffalo on I-90 to southern Massachusetts, then south into Connecticut, where we spent the night before dropping the load and picking up a new load in New Haven.

Monday afternoon we passed through Norwalk, CT, where I spent a month in 1994 with Katie Hemingway before she broke my heart and sent me home. This was the first time I’ve been to Connecticut since then. Less than an hour later, in the Bronx, traffic crept along at a snail’s pace for about an hour before finally picking up some momentum in the upper tip of Manhattan as we approached the George Washington Bridge, where I finally got a good look at the beautiful and amazing metropolis of New York City. I ♥ NY, so it was difficult for me to just ride right through the city, then watch it slowly disappear from across the Hudson River in New Jersey.

Eventually I could no longer see NYC, so I turned my attention to ugly, industrial New Jersey. Soon we neared Philadelphia, but I never saw Philly because we stayed on the toll road east of the city, in the Garden State. In a nearly never-ending chain of cities that I suppose begins north/northeast of Boston, we continued until the morning hours, passing through Wilmington, then Baltimore, then the outskirts of Washington, DC, then Richmond. Only after Richmond did the hundreds of miles of continuous city finally come to an end. Finally, in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, we arrived near the home of another one of Vernon’s cousins (Brad) in Raleigh, NC, where we watched some TV and slept until late in the morning.

Our trailer full of used automobile tires was destined for a small shop in Columbia, SC. As we headed toward Columbia, Vernon called the shop and found out that they close at 4:30, which meant we could not get there in time to make the delivery that day. So we pulled into a Flying J on the north side of Columbia sometime that evening and had plenty of time to relax and sleep before making the delivery Wednesday morning.

Compared to Buffalo and the rest of the northeast United States, which had beautiful weather while we were there, Columbia was HOT!!! I saw a digital sign somewhere that said it was 106 degrees. Consequently, I was glad we’d be heading north again. For the next delivery, we had to pick up in Florence, SC and deliver to Birdsboro, PA (Reading), where we did not arrive until about 3:30 Thursday morning, partly thanks to a couple dumb-ass drivers in Baltimore who, after turning their cars into accordions and basically closing the interstate, probably still haven’t learned why it’s not a smart idea to ride the ass of the car you’re following.

Thursday we picked up another load near Bethel, PA and took it to Bradford, PA (home of Zippo lighters), where we spent the night. Vernon was looking forward to a weekend in Buffalo, so Friday afternoon he went a little bit out of his way to drop me off at a truck stop in Harborcreek (Erie), PA, where I finally was able to finish writing this post (but couldn’t send it because there is no free wifi).

I was at the truck stop until yesterday afternoon. Now I'm in Kentucky, on my way to Dallas.

Unless I just can’t find any time to type, I plan to write more about my adventures with Vernon. So keep an eye out.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Columbia South Carolina

I've been riding with Vernon ever since Ohio. We had a delivery to Columbia, South Carolina this morning, and now it looks like we're going back to Pennsylvania, near Philly. I have a lengthy draft of a blog post taking shape in the laptop, but I'm not finished drafting it and it's not always easy to find free WiFi when you're riding around in a truck. (Most truck stops have WiFi, but you have to pay $15 to $20 monthly to access it. That's total bullshit.)

Raleigh, Norph Carolina.

Raleigh, Norph Carolina.

New York City!

New York City!

We're now in Springfield, Assumchusetts,

We're now in Springfield, Assumchusetts, about to enter Connecticut. I'm still riding with Vernon, who picked me up in Ohio. More to say later.

Being so close to home,

Being so close to home, I switched to "Anywhere" mode, rather than heading west right away. As a result, I'm on my way to Buffalo.

On the road again

I'll be back on the road within a couple hours. I just have to do a few more things before I'm all ready to go. Even though I could be ready to go by noonish, I think I'm going to wait until mid-afternoon, to avoid the hottest part of the day and to give myself a half-day to ease back into things.

I have a new backpack, which I think will make a HUGE difference in a whole bunch of ways. (For example, my attitude. Let's hope, anyway.) Unlike my huge Kelty Red Cloud 6650, which is only available in one size, the Gregory Palisade 80 (Medium) is made to fit me. I feel like the new pack has a superior design, in terms of comfort and ergonomics. With most of the pack's weight resting above my butt (on my lumbar?), it just feels right, even when I don't have it adjusted well. Instead of dragging the pack with most of the weight digging into my shoulders, which is how I felt with the Kelty pack after several miles each day, this pack feels like it's a part of me. I can adjust it so it barely even touches my shoulders, and I can even run while carrying it.

I have jettisoned A LOT of stuff from my pack, making the load about 7 lbs lighter than it was on my most recent venture. Some of the items I removed:

2 cotton t-shirts (9 oz each);
Tripod (21 oz);
Electric shaver (9.5 oz);
4 pairs of socks (10 oz); and
Condiments and stuff left over from the MREs (9 oz.).

I also removed a lot of smaller things that add up to a lot of weight, like a Drakkar bathroom bag, flashlight (I still have an LED headlamp), small bottle of Listerine, sunscreen, Purell, waterproof pack cover, and "other crap." Additionally, I replaced several items, trimming a few ounces here and there. I replaced my denim jeans with lightweight, convertible pants, which weigh 11 oz less than the jeans.

But some of my new stuff is actually heavier than what it's replacing. My new tent, for example, is about 12 oz heavier than my old one. Oh, but it's worth an extra 3/4 of a pound. For starters, it's much easier to set up than the other tent. Also, the canopy's mesh is considerably more durable than the other tent. Unlike the other tent's canopy, I'd have to be very abusive to put any holes in this one. But what really makes the new tent great is the extra room. There is tons of room for me to move around or sit up, and there is plenty of space inside for both me and my gear. This tent is awesome!

Not all of my gear swaps are so easy to assess, though. For example, I've replaced a desert camo Army jacket (given to me by a young Iraq War vet in Mississippi) with a down jacket and a fleece top, adding about 18 oz to my pack weight. However, I can use the jacket(s) as a pillow, so I don't need to take my compressible pillow (13 oz) this time. As a result, I've added about 5 oz to the total pack weight, but I no longer need to avoid or worry about very low temperatures. Plus the down jacket feels awesome!

For the first time ever, I feel really good about my gear situation. I'm pretty much equipped to go anywhere in the United States at any time of year now. But with the showdown between the Buckeyes and the Trojans coming up in mid September at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, you can bet I'll be heading to SoCal pretty quickly.

My injuries have not healed 100 percent, but they're getting close. I'd say both my hand and my toe feel about 90% healed. They feel pretty good; good enough to get back on the road without feeling handicapped or otherwise affected.

One more thing for now: No credit card this time. Even though it might be smart for me to have a credit card for emergencies, I'm leaving it behind because it is too tempting and I think it compromises the integritah of this project.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Introspection

I've said a lot of stupid and embarrassing things on this blog over the last two years; some things I'd like to take back and other things that just came out wrong. Considering I am a very introspective individual who tries to learn from my own mistakes as well as other people's mistakes, I assure you my future blog posts will be...









[Scroll on down.]









...just as ass-brained, profane, and embarrassing as they've ever been!!!

FUCK YEAH!

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With my hand nearly healed and my toe getting better, I expect to be back on the road within about ten days, maybe sooner. This time I do not plan to return "home" in October. In fact, once I hit the road again, I'll have no plans of returning to central Ohio at all--not even for Christmas--unless I end up here randomly.

Come November, I would like to vote, but I'm not sure I'll be able to arrange that.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Setback?

When I got the cast off my arm last week, I mentioned my toe injury to the doctor. He said I should put tape around the two smallest toes. I didn't do it.

So today I jammed my little toe again and it hurts like hell. It feels like I totally nullified the past two weeks of healing. You don't realize how important your little toe is until you injure it like this, then try to walk.

I was planning on hitting the road again in about two weeks (with a fresher, more positive attitude), but I fear this re-injury may set me back a little. That sucks.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Broken bones and Pittsburgh

Wow. Until the last week, I had no idea how difficult it is to regain mobility after wearing a cast for less than three weeks. I've had my cast off for a week now, but my ring finger (which was not even injured) is still very stiff and immobile. I can move it reasonably well, but I still can't do much with it.

I guess when your tendons are completely inactive for a while, they shrink. That's what it feels like, anyway. I don't know because I didn't ask. (I didn't ask because I didn't realize I was facing such a long recovery.)

The only other time I've ever had to wear a cast was when I was ten years old, when a broken beer bottle severed five tendons in my wrist. That time, considering surgeons had to overlap my tendons to stitch them back together, it naturally took quite a while to recover mobility in my hand and fingers. (I think they had to make the tendons overlap, anyway.) Also, I had to wear the cast for much longer that time; two months maybe.

The broken bone has not healed fully yet, but it's not really giving me any trouble; just a little pain here and there. It has taken a lot of work, however, just to get my uninjured ring finger almost back to normal.

---

About ten days ago, after taking a clumsy step at the top of the stairs, I jammed the little toe on my right foot... really hard. As much as it hurt when I did it, I immediately hoped I'd just bruised or sprained the area around the toe. However, ten days later, I'm 95 percent sure I broke it, too, because it still hurts like hell and it's still causing me to limp when I walk.

Urgh! This is frustrating, especially because my sense of balance was already shaky after carrying my heavy-ass backpack 600 miles in two and a half months. When you carry a heavy backpack around for so long and then stop, you don't just get your balance back in a day or a week. It takes a really long time to get your coordination back. I don't think I have felt normal walking without the backpack since April 2007.

---

I went to Pittsburgh for the first time in my life yesterday because there is an REI store there. Almost the exact same distance from the REI stores in Detroit and Ann Arbor (the whore), I decided to go to Pittsburgh mostly because the drive from here to The State Up North (MI) is really boring and generally unfun.

One thing I realized on my way there is that a lot of Ohio is actually very pretty. That would be eastern (and southeastern) Ohio. Because I have rarely been in eastern Ohio, most of "my Ohio" could be best described as "Nebraska with some trees." But basically once you get east of Columbus, it starts getting very pretty. Although I've lived in and around Columbus most of my life, I've rarely had much reason to venture very far east of downtown.

Entering Pittsburgh from the south, you don't feel like you're in a big city; you don't even feel like you're close to a big city. There is no visible sprawl of suburbs, and the hills (mini mountains) keep you from seeing downtown from afar. Then you go through a reasonably long tunnel through a hill and BAM! there it is: Downtown Pittsburgh.

So the first time I ever saw downtown Pittsburgh (except from 35,000 feet in the sky) was from about half a mile away. Cool way to see a city for the first time.

Pittsburgh seems to be a very pretty, interesting city. I can't say for sure, though, because I didn't get much opportunity to see it.

A word of caution: If you have never driven in Pittsburgh, DON'T!!! But if you do choose to drive in Pittsburgh for the first time, make sure you study a map of the city inside and out for a few months before you go there. Make sure you know all the roads and all the curves. Zoom in on a satellite map so you can see what it's like up close. And when you finally go there for the first time, plan to arrive at a time when traffic should be lite.

There are tons of twists and turns in Pittsburgh. There are multiple horizontal planes of roadway and traffic in Pittsburgh, which may intersect but not necessarily connect to each other. There are lots of tunnels, each of which go somewhere.

In other words, Pittsburgh is not like any other city I've ever driven in.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Cast away

I got my cast/splint off this morning. The bone is still a few weeks from being completely healed, but it is much better than before. When they took off the cast, my ring finger was totally stiff and angled away from the middle finger (as if I was a humanoid TV alien greeting someone). An hour later, it's still very stiff, but I can move it a little bit.

My brain has recently begun mega-processing the sensory overload from my latest travels. This is tough because it floods me with a million "repressed" memories and emotions all at once, many of which are not pleasant, like much of what I witnessed in New Orleans. This is hard to explain; it's probably nearly impossible to comprehend if you've never traveled how I travel. I suppose it's something like PTSD because it is very traumatic. Seriously. Maybe I'll try to explain in better detail when my hand becomes more mobile.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Life decisions

Even when I first came up with the idea for Aimless, I never expected the project to make me rich or famous. I always knew I was a major underdog because I am an amateur with amateur equipment and no connections.

All I had was hope. I hoped people would help me spread the word to reach a larger audience. I hoped people would recognize my insight so I could somehow reach the right person (or persons), who would subsequently become the connection I needed to make something out of this. I hoped calling it as I see it (instead of watering things down to present an entirely safe, rah rah, "America: Fuck Yeah!" story) would be compelling to people.

In other words, I ran Aimless much like the typical small business owner runs their failing business, hoping to reach a market that may or may not exist. Unlike small business owners, however, I could afford to do this because I didn't have a couple hundred grand riding on the success of my project. I had essentially nothing to lose by doing it my way.

I am very well aware that my style of conducting Aimless breaks almost all the rules of operating a successful conventional business; I always have been. But there has never been a "business" like Aimless, and I will not allow myself to tell a manufactured happy story instead of the real story. I will not disguise my true thoughts and feelings (which I know make me look like a total fuckface sometimes) to make myself appear as a heroic protagonist.

I am not a heroic protagonist!

---

There is so much completely stupid programming (presented as educational documentaries) on TV these days. To begin, we have Ghost Hunters, UFO Hunters, Paranormal State, and that show about psychic children. On each episode of each show, the premise is that someone is investigating something paranormal and will eventually present some kind of evidence of that paranormal activity. They keep you in suspense, making you believe there will eventually be some kind of answer or breakthrough, and then the show ends. It's like a soap opera, except they just leave you hanging forever because there is no next part; there is no answer. Yet with absolutely no evidence that there was ever even anything to investigate, the "investigators" always leave the spooky place and act like they accomplished something. (In reality, there's not even a problem, except for the things people made up in their heads. The only thing that makes these shows appear remotely, almost, sorta legit is the spooky noises dubbed onto the video in post-production.)

It's fucking ridiculous and totally unentertaining.

Then you have the "Modern-Marvels-turned-drama" shows, like Ice Road Truckers and some others I can't even name. Ice Road Truckers was a great topic for one episode of Modern Marvels, but it is a fucking stupid soap opera, just like all the other shows in that genre. Even Deadliest Catch, which I used to like, has become completely pointless.

I can't even begin to tell you how much more interesting an Aimless TV series would be than all the crap on TV today. Yes, even with my filthy mouth and unrefined demeanor. (Check out Anthony Bourdain. He's the fucking man!) You wouldn't believe the shit I see. You wouldn't believe the shit I do. You wouldn't believe the people I meet. And shit wouldn't even need to be edited to make it seem outrageous; my travels are 100 times more outrageous than any of that ultra-edited bullshit they're trying to make you believe is real.

I mean, I watched a new travel show last night with a host who is a "veteran travel guide." He told me Hoover Dam is on the border of California and Arizona... Your TV so easily makes you stupid.

All I'm saying is that Aimless would blow people's minds if they had access to it. No bullshit. No editing tricks. No catering budget. No lodging budget. Just an incredible expose of one guy's life as a traveling bum.

Unfortunately, I'm the only person who knows how incredible and entertaining it would be, and I don't know the right people.

---

Even without use of my normally good hand, I make the best-tasting pizza I've ever eaten. Even after a three-month hiatus in pizza-making, I make the best-tasting pizza I've ever eaten. Even with substandard equipment, I make the best-tasting pizza I've ever eaten. Even after eating literally thousands of my own pizzas, I make the best-tasting pizza I've ever eaten.

I'm not one of the best documentarians on the planet. I'm not one of the best bowlers on the planet. I'm not one of the best bloggers on the planet. I'm not one of the best hobos on the planet. I'm not even one of the best tramps on the planet.

But I make some of the best pizza on the planet and I know how to sell it and I know how to create happy customers that would return again and again for my pizza. Unfortunately, I don't have the resources to make that scenario a reality and I don't have anyone to back me in my efforts to make that scenario a reality. My parents have the resources to use me to make themselves rich (or at least very comfortable). They love eating my pizza, too. But they also think I'm the stupidest motherfucker that's ever walked this planet. Don't ask me why; it's just something they decided when I was just a kid, and nothing will ever change their minds about it.

If you've ever read the "supportive" comments from my dad, usually under the handle of "Twerky," "Gorf," "Anonymous," et al, it's all bullshit. Five minutes after he picked me up two weeks ago, he told me it's good that I was coming home because I've just been wasting my time out there. Less than 24 hours later, he told me to get out of his home.

Fuck You, Larry Steven Powell! You are no longer welcome to read this blog. You are no longer welcome in my life. You are a fucking piece of shit who has fucked my head for as long as I've been alive. I don't even know how to handle success or friendship because you've treated me like a failure (and physically abused me) since the day I was born. I know why I hate you, but I have no fucking idea why you've always hated me. I will be out of your precious house as soon as my hand heals, and I ain't never coming back.

That sad thing is, I'll probably cry when you die.

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I'll probably hit the road again whenever my hand heals because I no longer have a home. Will I blog? I don't know. All I know is that I have a better chance of meeting someone who'll recognize my talents on the road than I do here. But for all I care, I'll be dead within a year.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

First time

This is the first time I've touched a computer in over two weeks. I'm going to try to say some stuff in another post to follow, but it'll probably take quite a while because my right hand--my normally good hand--is about as useful as a tree branch right now. I can't even use it to control a mouse. Oh, and showering is real fucking fun.

I'd love to upload a picture of the original X-ray, because the doctor said the two parts of my bone were at a 30-degree angle, but I haven't even seen the X-ray. I think I'm supposed to get the cast/splint removed next Wednesday.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

A little gimpy

I have a whole bunch to say, but as you may have guessed already, I can't really type right now because I broke my hand.

I threw in the towel.

I threw in the towel. My dad's coming to get me (about 30 miles) because my inadequate equipment causes constant, intense pain. I'm finished...

Long-ass walk today. One mile

Long-ass walk today. One mile into it, I feel shitty and my feet hurt (probably because my soles are nearly bare).

After spending all that time

After spending all that time in New Orleans, it feels weird to walk through an urban neighborhood with houses and people.

Lima, Ohio

Lima, Ohio

Franklin, Kentucky

We're staying in Franklin, Kentucky tonight.

In Memphis today, some dumb-ass on a crotch rocket damn near got himself killed right in front of us. Bobbing and weaving his way through interstate traffic, he passed us on the left then cut over in front of us at the same time the pickup ahead of him was getting over. Seeing how he was going about 20 MPH faster than everyone else on the highway, he only had a split second to react. The stupid fuck is really lucky he didn't get sideswiped by the pickup and then run over by an International 18-wheeler. Nonetheless, he continued bobbing and weaving his way through the traffic ahead of us.

Seeing this guy almost bite the dust, I got that "Oh Fuck" feeling in my chest and stomach. It was that feeling you get whenever you have a close call of your own, when you feel like you just missed dying by a hair. But after seeing the dipshit race off into the horizon, I almost wish he'd just eaten the asphalt right in front of me. It's going to happen sooner or later, anyway. Might as well prevent his genes from making it to the next generation, unless they've already made it.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

Anywhere

I made up a sign last night that says "ANYWHERE." Well, anywhere happened to be Jackson, TN this morning. My driver David originally said I'd have to get out in Jackson because he'll be picking up another driver there. But plans have changed. He no longer has to pick up the other driver, so we're going to Ohio, which means I'll probably go home. Will it be home for good or just for a break? I don't know. I don't even know if I'll go home at all.

I'm tired of this

I'm fucking sick of dumbfuck truck stop managers who can't figure out the difference between a sponge and a customer.

I'm fucking sick of being blistered and burned and scabbed and hungry and thirsty and sore and tired and broke and wet and dirty and threatened with guns and...

UNAPPRECIATED!

Most of the people I meet think what I do is cool as fuck. When they meet me and hear my stories, they live a little for once in their lives. For a few moments they experience a second-hand sensation that they always wanted to feel for real but never had the balls to do it.

That's why people give me money. That's why people give me food. People give me things in return for what I've already given them.

Excluding fuckface truck stop managers, of course. They just give me shit.

There's nothing left on the soles of my boots because I've walked a thousand miles in them. My backpack is not right for me, either. I am so ridiculously ill-equipped for this jouurney, it's not even funny.

I'm probably about to quit (and I'm not bullshitting this time.)

So all you lurkers and critics: If you like having Aimless Ryan as your little bitch guinea pig, it's time to show it. Otherwise...

Screw you guys; I'm going home!

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

A failed experiment

When I came up with the idea for Aimless, one of my major objectives was to make something out of nothing, mostly through the kindness of strangers. While I have received a lot of help from strangers, I’ve received a shitload of help from my family. Too much help.

Excluding the things I bought with the REI gift card I received from a friendly German fellow named Stefan, I’ve received all my gear through help from my family and other people I already knew. In other words, I wouldn’t have made it this far if not for the privileges that come from being a middle class white boy. And no matter what happens from now on, I will never be able to say I made something out of nothing.

Can it be done? Could someone take my original premise and make something out of nothing? Probably, but not this time. The integrity of this project has been compromised. Even if I somehow manage to capitalize on this project, I have failed.

The proof is in the paragraph (as opposed to the jumbled mass of words so characteristic of my phone posts).

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

Still at Pilot. Wanna go

Still at Pilot. Wanna go anywhere far away. I have written another post on word processor, but can't send it until I get within range of wi-fi.

Baton Rouge Part 2

Before I continue, I want to thank Mom, Dad, and my brother Roman for hooking me up with the laptop. Thanks y'all. Now back to the story... Long story short: Today was freaking hot and humid, like every day around here. Due to very heavy traffic on a narrow bridge, I had to walk over 12 miles just to get 6 or 7 miles. It sucked, but that's how it goes sometimes. Consequently, I now have some new blisters on my ever-blistered arms. --> I arrived at the Pilot station at about 5:00, hoping I could get some wi-fi action on the premises, but no dice. So I sat around playing solitaire and talking to truckers for a while, not too concerned about getting a ride. --> There is wi-fi access at the Days Inn next door, which is where I'm camping right now, but I'm about 50 feet outside the range and I don't want to wander away from all my stuff, which is why you're currently reading another phone
post. --> Lotsa shit on my mind right now. Hopefully I can post these thoughts soon.

Baton Rouge

I woke up yesterday in Gonzalez. Six miles up I-10 I got a ride about ten miles to the Best Buy beside the Mall of Louisiana. Upon reaching the parking lot, I realized I'd been to that particular Best Buy store, too (with Jeff, of course). By the time I arrived, I already knew this store carried the laptop I was looking for, because I asked my mom to call and check. --> I used the credit card to buy the laptop, then I sat at the Rock Star "drum set" for the first time and messed around with some Pixies, Radiohead, Pumpkins, Weezer, and Rush. Kinda fun, but it's nothing like playing those songs on real drums. --> After 20-30 minutes of messing around with Rock Star, I walked to the mall for some AC and a chance to acquaint myself with the computer. However, I never found a good place to plug it in, so I left the mall and headed for I-12 East, in search of a Pilot truck stop I knew was
around somewhere. I suspected the Pilot was at least ten miles away, which Jeff eventually confirmed...

Beautiful night in Baton Rouge.

Beautiful night in Baton Rouge. I put up the tent canopy, but I've been sitting outside for at least an hour. Nice cool breeze and no mosquitoes!

Thought I was closer

I'm walking alongside the interstate because Louisiana doesn't seem to care.

In pursuit of laptop

Having slept across the street from Best Buy in Metairie last night, I went into the store bright and early this morning because my brother and parents have been talking about teaming up to get me some type of small device with internet capabilities. My brother's old laptops are too heavy and the ideal laptop costs $1,800, so a laptop seemed to be out of the question. After a couple phone calls with my brother, we couldn't figure out what would be the best option, so I left Best Buy and started walking west. --> It turns out that Best Buy carries a small, simple, two-pound laptop that costs $400 and should suit my needs, so everyone agreed that I should go ahead and get that one. The Metairie Best Buy actually had this model on display, but I was long gone by the time I received the go-ahead. No problem, I thought; I'll just get one next time I see a Best Buy. But Mom called me from
Best Buy and said not many Best Buy stores keep that model in stock. --> I'm close to Baton Rouge now.

I love cypress trees.

I love cypress trees.

JJ, Denise, and Luke just

JJ, Denise, and Luke just showed up near the NO airport and are taking me to lunch at Ho Ho's ("Ha Ha's") Chinese buffet.

Outdoor lodging

I can get away with sleeping in a lot of places that homeless people could never think of sleeping. The first reason is because I'm normally only there for one night, then I'm gone, usually before people really have a chance to notice me. Second, I camp in places that are fairly visible. If homeless people were to set up camp in the same places on a regular basis, they'd eventually be seen and "evicted." --> I really do not like my tent. It's too labor intensive, it has absolutely no head room, and it has a tiny vestibule, among other things. (But it's really light.) --> Consequently, I can't wait until I get to REI because I intend to utilize their 100 percent satisfaction guarantee to trade in my Big Agnes Seedhouse SL2 tent, probably for an REI Quarter Dome T2. I'd prefer not to do it, partly because my SL2 is not in the best condition, but that's mostly a result of the tent not
being right for me. When you can't move inside your tent, you get clumsy and fuck it up in various ways.