Bucking the System

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Before leaving Carbondale Monday morning I set out to find a house not far from my hotel, plopped right in the middle of a stolidly normal neighborhood near the college.  As you can see, it doesn't fit in with its surroundings very well and perhaps that's because it was built and inhabited by Mr. Buckminster Fuller while he taught at Southern Illinois University in the 1960s.

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When I arrived, I spotted the familiar dome shape I expected right away, but was shocked to discover that the exterior was simply covered with a fabric tarp instead of glass or roofing.  I walked around to the driveway to get a closer look and when I saw that there weren't any cars or other signs of life, I decided to poke my head under the tarp and see just what was in there.

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What I found was a homely little abode, not dissimilar in luxury to many I remember renting in my youth.  The roof was covered with a thick thatch of shingles which disguised the distinctive shape in an unpleasant way.  If someone in fact lived there, they weren't doing a very good job of keeping it up, but it looked more like it was being used as a guest house or meeting place.  Even with all my carping though, I always prefer that a place be gently used and humble rather than precious, glossy and well endowed.  The notion of some goofy student living in Bucky's old place seems far better to me than having docent tours led by the heritage society.  Which is, I have to say, rather hypocritical seeing as how I regularly reap the benefits wrought by diligent preservers of national treasures worldwide.  Maybe I was just grumpy because I was trying to put a good face on seeing Bucky's house look so forlorn.  Now that I think of it, the best use of the place would be a really good coffee shop where of course you could get little cookies called Bucky Balls to go with your steaming hot java.

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Luckily  for me the morning was bright and clear and cool.  I drove away from Carbondale towards St. Louis on highways small enough that I could leave my window rolled down and enjoy the bracing air and vivid light.  I'd seen a tiny bit of fall color as I'd driven through Arkansas, but by now I'd migrated far enough north that signs were everywhere and every now and then I'd spot a magnificent tree in full regalia.

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I made my way by hill and by dale to the northwestern corner of St. Louis to visit my dear friends the O'Donnells.  Ile Ann, Eugene and Shannon were there to greet me and after we sat at the kitchen table catching up a bit, the three of us girls decided to go off and have some late luncheon.  The meal was nice and tasty, but the best part of it was the lively conversation, which is part of every meeting with the O'Donnells.  I didn't tarry long after we returned to the house since I was eager to make it to Springfield or Bloomington by the end of the day.

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I made a wide loop around St. Louis since it was rush hour and ended up hitting Springfield well after dark, searching eagerly for a Motel 6 sign on the horizon as I drove through town.  Before I knew it, I had been spat out on the other side of Springfield and without having seen a single sign for my favored lodging. As I drove along musing what I should do next, I suddenly found myself in hellish construction zone that wouldn't allow me to exit or turn around.  The barricades finally gave way about 20 miles north of Springfield and I was loathe to turn around and negotiate that nightmare again.  I called my roadside lodging wing man Mark and had him help me find a place to stay which ended up being in Lincoln, Illinois.  I had to drive a long way after exiting the freeway and it took three tries to get into the driveway because of more hellish construction, so I was tired and hungry and thirsty (yay, I'd even say dehydrated and hency very cranky) by the time I finished hauling my things to my second floor walk up room.  Tomorrow would be a day of meandering and that would be much more to my liking.  I should know the signs of pushing myself too far on too little fuel better by now, but they still sometimes sneak up and surprise me.