This year, I traveled to the Petersen's Automotive Museum in Los Angeles. But on my way there, the true treasure that was found had nothing to do with automotive. That's because most of my travels involve encounters with the needy and/or homeless. But as is often the case, they are the ones who I learn the most from.
What my friend, "Claude" recently showed me is that U. S. Marines suffer from an aftershock that only few know. Some of Hollywood's failed actors, someone who might have been sexually assaulted as a child...these characters are those who teach you about suffering more than anybody.
Truth be told, you don't really understand human suffering until you've met a marine. You don't truly understand how jacked another human can be until you've met with that human. Just listen to some of the stories these people tell: "We blew-up foreign cities for fun...there was no reason; we just did!" To many United States Marines, killing for recreation is no more than a simple "act of mercy."
I was craving pizza; coincidentally, there was a Pizza Hut on Wilshire near Fairfax, so Claude and I headed-in. He was hungry and so was I; he was broke and I needed to be fed, and so it worked-out.
Go back to Elliott Hulse: It's not so much the travel as it is the traveler. Truth be told, I wasn't on Wilshire Boulevard to feed the homeless. I wasn't representing the Boy Scouts, and I certainly wasn't trying to win merits from anybody. As an automotive journalist, I was there to capture raw materials.
Again, it's not so much the travel as it is the traveler. I took the Red Line to LA to see the car museum, and I ended up having lunch with a Desert Storm vet. I traveled from the San Fernando Valley to West Los Angeles to see a one-off, oval-windowed Royce, a Buick GNX...feeding a Marine on Wilshire was the last thing on my agenda. But...that Marine fed me in return...and wouldn't you know it: the guy never once took my wallet or any of my belongings.
It's not so much the travel as it is the traveler. Case-in-point, I went to go look at motors, I ended up learning about Desert Storm instead. I wanted to know what number GNX was at the Petersen Vault, and instead I was taught that the military manufactures digital "noses," and that those things can smell for miles.
Again, I went to go look at '57 Chevys, '87 Buicks...next thing I know, I'm capturing the La Brea Tar Pits. I even got to have pizza on Wilshire Boulevard, and anyone who's known me, at least since 2013, knows that nutrition has become an important issue in my day.
I don't smoke, and when I went to visit Wilshire in LA, I found myself smoking tobacco. There were good-looking girls on the scene; I flirted. Someone from the streets offered me tacos al carbon, and my ass ate. Smoking cigarettes, eating street tacos and watching Captain Kangaroo...things that I would normally never do in an afternoon, but on that day I did.
It was totally bad and unhealthy, but it felt damn good. The nicotine, the Pizza Hut...I was ready to fall off of the stupid earth. But the crazy part is that I never once missed Petersen's. And in fact, there were Forza simulators on one of the museum's floors. After so many hours of testing car POVs on YouTube, I was finally able to translate what I had learned by racing on Forza. If you've ever watched Forza online, you already know what it's about.
Here's what you learn: No one really gives a fuck what kind of car you're driving. Last year at Petersen's, someone told me that my Permobil should be in the car museum. They weren't impressed by a dinky-ass power chair. But what was impressive, is that the disabled cat on the power chair happened to be a gear head.
No one cares how much automotive knowledge I have. What Andrew Fillipone and I both have in common, is that we've made an academic study out of turbo Buicks, specifically the Grand National. But who cares?! The guy at Supercar Sunday who owns the Grand National doesn't care how much I know about that car. Truth be told, the turbo Regal crowd are far more impressed by my lust, by the erotic vigor in which I speak when describing a Buick Grand National. But as far as the history and stats are concerned, the G-Body party could care less.
How do I know this?! Because it's the traveler and not the travel. Motorcycles honk at me, in my power chair, on the way to Sagebrush Cantina on a Sunday morning. I'm not asking these people to do this; that's just what they do.
I'm not asking anyone to buy me shots; I'm responsible for my own alcohol, but because we're all in good company, guys-and-girls my age want to throw shots at me anyway.
Women my age want to dance with me at the Cantina. Because I'm a good-looking guy, because I have a body?! Or is it because the land is as Elliott Hulse describes, and so the traveler continues to take precedence over the travel?
Let's assume that Hulse is telling the truth. Let's continue to argue that it's all about the traveler. What does that even mean?! Is there anything impressive about me going to the speedway at Fontana? Not really, but it is impressive that a guy on a power chair would ride Cherry Avenue to that speedway...on a power chair, and from a Metrolink station.
Is there anything impressive about me riding my chair, via public transportation, to a small bar in Downey from the San Fernando Valley?! Usually no, but isn't that crazy that some disabled fucker on a power chair would travel across Los Angeles to hit a bar, all just to find an actress?!
Isn't it crazy, that I went to church on a Sunday with my grandmother and nephew, just so I could meet a member of the Damaco Motors family? Isn't that just bonkers, that a nice Sicilian kid who was lusting after a young actress, went to Downey, California to find her and ended-up smoking pot, in a parking lot, with an old spaghetti-eater from Back East?!
The traveler does take precedence over the travel. But it took me a few practice runs to get this. It's just crazy how as a traveler, you go in search for something, which you still haven't found. But then you end-up finding other shit along the way.
It's about the traveler and not the travel. And so what I would ask my audience is to do as I have, and get creative with your mode of travel. It's in your best interest to do this at any level of income. Because at the end, the amount of money that you spend will be the same. But when you keep spending the same cash on the same 'ol shit, you inevitably get the same daily results. In that moment, you are a traveler who still needs a lot of help!
