We just wrapped up our first day of our cross-country journey to begin the next phase of our lives in Tempe, AZ, unfortunately without our favorite traveling companion. It was a long slog, but we made good time.

The first leg was by far the worst, through the monotonous interstates of central Georgia, a desolate wasteland punctuated only by garish billboards hawking discount divorces, discount liquor and handjob joints (probably not in that order), from Statesboro to Atlanta.

Alabama was more scenic, especially the Nascar temple at Talladega and the national forest named after this hallowed ground consecrated with the sacrament of the south - Miller High Life.

I don't have much positive to say about Mississippi - the quality of their interstates rivals the quality of their public education system, I suspect, and the best part about leaving this stretch of the trip was being finished with it. I believe it was in MS that we ate at the world's creepiest McDonalds, which I described as such because of the massive Ronald McDonald torso sprouting from the facade, giving it's best Third-Reich salute.

Heil Ronald!: This creeped me out enormously.

Tennessee wasn't bad, though I prefer the trip up I-75 (or is it 26?) towards Knoxville to the flat stretch that terminates at Memphis. From the bridge crossing the Mississippi you can almost see the river itself. Imagine that.

I type this from a hotel in North Little Rock, Arkansas. I'm pushing myself a little to drive a bit longer on the first two days instead of diving the driving equally, in order to give us enough to spare on a side trip to the Grand Canyon when we reach Flagstaff, AZ.

I suspect that trip may consist of the two of us stepping from the car, gazing out over the majestic expanse, then getting back in the car and heading back to the road. We'll see.

Well, phase I of our move out west is now complete. We're no longer the owners of our lovely house on Taylor Street. It now belongs to one of the founders of this site. We're a little sad to see it go, but glad everything went relatively smoothly with the sale.

The actual act of moving, however, was a bit more complicated.

First, the movers didn't show up as scheduled on Wednesday to pack our stuff. When I called the company's coordinator at 10 AM (they were supposed to be there at 9) her response was "They're not there?" Uh oh. They eventually called back and said they were going to pack all in one day.

Thursday arrives, and with it, a huge semi, an old dude driving, and a couple of guys to pack and load all our stuff. Luckily, we don't have much.

Of course one of our SCADdie loser neighbors in the rental house a few doors down didn't pay attention to my polite sign asking that the spaces in front of our house be vacated by 8:30 for the truck to park. So we had to park next to her, with most of the truck in the street (facing the wrong way on 1-way street, so the access doors could be opened on the left side of the van). We left ample clearance to the left of the truck, enough for even garbage trucks to barrel past.

A napoleonic officer with the SCMPD viewed all this as an opportunity to assert his authority over us, and demanded that the driver move the truck (that wasn't blocking traffic), saying we should park in the lane "where deliveries are supposed to be made". Never-mind the fact that there's no way to maneuver a 75 foot moving van down the narrow lane, and doing so would block the trash collection as well as trap several people in their homes.

I ended up making some calls to the Savannah "Traffic Engineering" department, and got a permit fast-tracked by using some of Betsy's connections to people in high places. Turned out it wasn't needed, because the cop never came back (found some bigger fish to harass, perhaps), and we were done loading by the time they called me back anyway.

In the end, almost everything got packed and loaded, and is now on its way out west. Everything else went in the trash:

Deep political commentary

I was going to title my St. Patrick's Day post "This town is covered in sh-t", because, in fact, it is. Human, animal, you name it. People can't clean up after themselves after a night of bingeing, let alone their dogs. I don't think the sidewalks of The Hostess City portray a good image to our visitors. Nobody should see what I have seen. I'll leave it at that.

Instead of that nastiness, I bring you Beaker, the Swedish Chef and Animal's rendition of "Danny Boy". Enjoy.

As if I wasn't busy enough, I attended a meeting Friday with folks from The Creative Coast, Savannah Morning News, and a couple of other folks... and in a moment of weakness offered to host the site for this year's BlogSavannah (un)conference... which turned into hosting BlogSavannah.com itself, as Drew can't do it this year.

When I got back to work and told Randy about this, he threatened to smack me for being so altruistic. Nothing good ever comes of that right?

Well, I figured it was the least I could do to help out, and it was braindead simple to move the database and files over to my server, and get Wordpress up and running.

If I had more time, I'd port the thing to Drupal, but with the unconference tentatively scheduled for January 25th, there ain't no time. Now I just need to grok WP enough to get a couple things done, like a registration page.