Rejected McSweeney's List

Submitted a list to McSweeney's about two weeks ago and got a pleasant rejection some time this week. They didn't provide much of a reason for the rejection, so I'll do it now.

1. Not funny enough.
2. Too esoteric.
3. Not current in any way.
4. Funny parts border on goofy rather than hipster-cool sarcastic.
5. Not funny enough.

Anyway, I'm going to keep submitting lists to McSweeney's, but in the meantime, I thought I would share the rejected submission. Enjoy!
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12 differences between my road trip and the lyrics to "America" by Simon and Garfunkel

1. Let us be lovers, we'll trade drugs for cash in the restroom.
2. I've got some mescaline here in my bag.
3. When I asked some guy to toss me a cigarette, he said, "Go fuck yourself."
4. Turns out, the man in the gabardine suit was a pervert. (But his bow tie was really a camera.)
5. The moon rose over a nuclear power plant on Lake Eerie.
6. I'm empty and aching, and I'm pretty sure it's because of what the guy in the gabardine suit said to me.
7. "Kathy, I’m lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping. "Stop talking to me," she replied. "I’m trying to sleep."
8. No laughing on the bus. No games with the faces.
9. Michigan seems like a dream to me now … a dream where you're naked in front of a group of strangers.
10. Counted the D.W.B.s on the New Jersey Turnpike.
11. It took me four days to hitchhike to Saganaw and four years to think of a word that rhymes with Saganaw.
12. Walked off to look for America. Got mugged.

Also, the lyrics to the song, because, you know it's even less funny without them ...

"Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together."
"I've got some real estate here in my bag."
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And we walked off to look for America.
"Kathy," I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
I've come to look for America."

Laughing on the bus;
Playing games with the faces;
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy;
I said "Be careful his bowtie is really a camera."

"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat."
"We smoked the last one an hour ago."
So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine
And the moon rose over an open field.

"Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping.
"I'm empty and aching and I don't know why."
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike:
They've all come to look for America
All come to look for America
All come to look for America

The Freewheelin' Hyvee Lady

Like many people (most of whom are under the age of 13) I love hopping onto the back of my grocery cart and riding it like a race car. I earn this privilege approximately every two weeks after a visit to Hy-Vee or the Fareway grocery store on the corner of Benton and Mormon Trek. I do most of my shopping at the Hy-Vee in southern Iowa City, but I have to say that its counterpart to the north has the best cart riding environment of any grocery store.

The entire parking lot at the north Iowa City Hy-Vee is built on a slope, with the top of the hill at the door. As such, a rambunctious pre-teen (or me) can emerge from a shopping trip and ride the grocery cart all the way from one end of the lot to the other with a single push off. Of course, you often have to dodge traditional consumers and various vehicles, but if you have just the right amount of groceries in your cart, you can steer with a solid lean in one direction or another.

The rules of cart riding are straightforward and simple:
1. Do not ride on an empty cart, as it is likely to flip over.
2. Wait until exiting the store to commence operation cart ride.
3. Do not hit vehicles.
4. Do not ride grocery carts on a city street, a county road, or a US highway.
5. Other modifications to the ritual, including racing strange children, are permissible, and often encouraged.

While this system of grocery cart riding may seem crazy and/or overly complicated, I assure one and all that I am not alone in my love of cart riding. Just the other day, I saw a young woman in Hy-Vee jump onto the back of her cart and ride it like a race car. Of course, she broke rule no. 2, breaking into race car mode just past the cereal isle inside the store.

But I just laughed out loud as she passed. She was the absolute picture of freewheelin' carefree exuberance. Plus she had a giant tear across the ass of her pants, causing her underwear to flap in the wind like a racing flag.

Chasing the Diesel Demon

A few years ago I first heard someone articulate the idea that God created the world's oil supply, injecting into deep pockets beneath the earth so that humans wouldn't discover it until they were ready to build a fuel based economy. The resulting rationale, of course, is that God wants us to use the oil ... and that when it gets close to running out, the Big Boss will offer us a refill.

I've never taken much stock in this theory, but yesterday, on my walk to school, I encountered a few obstacles that made me think God must really want me to drive.

The Wetter the Better
People seldom blame God for the weather, for for the life of me I can't imagine why. (It could be because Global Warming is caused by humans, but I'll have to check.) In all seriousness, the day just miserable. Wednesday (walking again) I got caught in the middle of a torrential downpour, so, Friday morning when I saw the overcast sky, I almost jumped right into my car.

Train in Vain

A few blocks from my house, I hit a roadblock. Literally. A twenty-car train had stopped and shut off its engine directly obstructing the road. I looked to the left. I looked to the right. In each direction, train as far as the eye could see. No way around. A crowd of students on their way to class had amassed, suggesting that the iron horse had been stationary for some time. A railroad crossing sign rang repetitively not far from my ear. Long story short, I did what anyone would do (and what at least one other person did do): I climbed up the ladder on the side of the train, negotiated the space between to rail cars, and jumped through.

Hands Clean
Shortly after auditioning for John Cusack's role in the "The Journey of Natty Gann,"* I noticed my hands had been dirtied in the process. A strange soot-like residue had transferred from the train to my person. One more thing that made me want to hop in the car.

Truckin'?
Fate can be a funny thing. Was it fate that it rained two days in row? Probably not. Was it fate that a train had blocked the road? Actually, it probably had more to do with the train schedule. But surely fate made me jump through? Well, no. As amatter of fact, this story has nothing to do with fate, or God for that matter. It's about choices, like choosing to walk to school, even if it's annoying, because it saves me money and uses less gas, which is theoretically good for the environment. Unless of course God wants Global Warming to happen, so it will hasten the apocalypse. In that case, I'm probably just a sinner.

*For more information about "The Journey of Natty Gann," please consult IMDB.