I just posted my 3000th receipt. This dubious milestone comes with
uncertainty: I can not say for sure what transaction this receipt records.
Evidence indicates this receipt records the $4.50 toll I paid last month to cross
the Triborough Bridge into Queens. Evidence: that particular toll is $4.50, and the
receipt was in a pile of other receipts from that same trip.
But this receipt seems odd. The date should be August 19, 2006, but it says January
1, 2000. I don’t know if this is common among bridge toll receipts, but it
appears to bill separately for each axle of my car. I know that tolls can be based
on axle count, but do they usually invoice individually like this?
Maybe so, but this Triborough Toll receipt looks vastly different from
Triborough Bridge receipt that I possess.
This is the car my father and I drove to
was my idea to make the trek to remote Sneedville, having read some interesting
stories about Melungeons, a people of Appalachia whose mysterious origins have never
been authoratatively determined.
The Melungeons are a people believed to be of Mediterranean and/or Portuguese
descent who settled in Appalachia during the mid to late 1500s. Thought to have
lived peacefully for several generations they were eventually “discovered” and
singled out for their distinctive physical features. Pushed off one desirable tract
of land after another they were forced to settle in Sneedville, at the top of Newman
Ridge.
The story of the Melungeons contains too much history for me to succinctly
summarize, and new information has certainly come to light since my interest in the
topic came and went several years ago.
We got to Sneedville late in the day, and had no time pursue Melungeon-related
detail. I took some
pictures, and once in a while I get e-mail from Sneedvillians (I almost said
Sneedvillains) either asking about the photos or just writing to comment.
The most frequent comment seems to question a photo of a billboard announcing a
Supercenter. Evidently no Wal Mart has been built in or around Sneedville, and
some have questioned whether the photo is real. My response is I would have no
reason to perpetrate such a pointless hoax. That photo, like all the photos in that
set, dates from the summer of 2000. As best I can recall it was taken near the town
border, but I don’t remember the exact spot.
One of the funnier bits of detritus from that trip is the printout of the
Sneedville. Expedia would have
sent us on an astoundingly elaborate route to Sneedville via Nova Scotia and
Newfoundland.
I do not remember the exact route we took to get there, but it was a long,
slow drive over sharply twisting roads. It was remote, no question, but I’m
told by relatives in the area that houses are being built along the road to Sneedville and that the area
will likely change over the coming years.
We did not follow Expedia’s advice on driving directions, and it was years
before I contemplated online driving directions services without laughing about
the above mentioned attempt.
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At the risk of making myself look like an expert on the subject of Melungeons by spilling a too-large quantity of words about it, I’ll share this:
A friend of mine, joking around with a friend of his, told his friend to “Shuttup
I asked how he knew that word (I knew him well enough to ask without making a
He admitted that he had no idea what the word really meant, but that “everyone said
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The car that drove to Sneedville is also the car that I drove from Florida to
New York for he long, lumbering trip up here late last year. I stuck mostly
to Route 17 on that trip, and while there is much to remember about that drive the
highlight was driving over the
waves
thrashing against the bridges made for a dramatic drive that nearly produced the
illusion of driving on the water.
I had the car here for about a month last year, but decided I did not need the
aggravation right away. A friend generously let me park it on his property upstate.
With *only* a 2 hour trip needed to get my car, I briefly imagined I would make an
occasional trip up there to get the car for some purpose or other. But this is me,
and as I should have well known 2 hours away might as well be 2 years away.
A few weeks ago I forced myself to go upstate and get the thing, and I will probably
force myself to make some use of the car here.
Having never owned a car in New York I find that the common wisdom proves
true. For my needs a car is a generally useless luxury, and its use has mostly involved
moving it from one side of the street to the other to make way for street cleaning
schedules. As I also know from common wisdom, parking regulations are sometimes
obscure, and enforcement is arbitrary.
One fear I have about truly relying on the car is that I will get fat, or at least
very lazy, for lack of any real exercise. When I get back here from Florida, (where
walking anywhere prompts sarcastic gibes from car drivers to “GIT A CAR!“)
I usually feel bloated and pasty for having walked no further than to or from the
car (and for consuming ever-unpredictable road trip food).
The car is identical to the cars used by limo companies and car services. My most
distinct memory of driving the car in New York for the first time was seeing
numerous people attempt to hail me for a ride. There was no question of what was
going on: people on the street looked me straight in the eye and held up one hand,
thinking that I must be a limo driver if I’m cruising around in this type of
vehicle. The car also has a bunch of stickers in the windshield, making it look (from a distance)
very official.
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