On the Road with Never Sit If You Can Dance

The official launch of my mother-daughter memoir Never Sit If You Can Dance: Lessons from My Motherisn’t until April 23rd.  But because of early invitations to literary festivals my joyful book is already inching its way out into the public. 

My mom was called Babe, and my first impression of being out in the world with Babe is that my mother stories are acting as an immediate catalyst, unleashing mother stories in the audience and in book buyers.  Organizers are always advising authors to make our presentations interactive, to engage the audience, not to just read from our book.  

But I don’t have to do anything especially interactive because I’ve found that after I speak people can’t wait to tell me their stories.  Although I’m still impacted by the emotional stories I’m telling—recently when I was  recording the audiobook, I couldn’t stop crying--I wasn’t expecting my stories to unleash such a flood, such a outpouring of mother stories from the audience.  

At the CALM Celebrity Authors’ Luncheon in Santa Barbara after I spoke about my mom’s dancing, one woman rushed up to tell me that her mom took up tap-dancing in her mid-eighties.  

At the Literary Guild of Orange County’s annual event I mentioned how surprised I was that one of my favorites is Lesson 13: Sometimes Life Begins Again at 95. Because Babe blossomed at 95 when she moved into a senior living community, and I wasn’t expecting that.  Later when  I was at the book table, autographing books, a woman came up to me, and looking me straight in the eye, said, “I’m ninety-five.”   This tall brunette looked healthy and happy, and I took her comment to mean that she was blossoming at 95, too.  In our culture that’s something we’re not necessarily led to believe is a possibility. 

I’m enjoying the interactions with other authors, too.  In Santa Barbara I was in the book signing ballroom, and the mother of the youngest author, a eighth-grader, gave me a compliment on my red satin blazer—a cool splurge for the book tour—and I thanked her and told her about Lesson 10: Don’t Be Drab.  I also mentioned that since authors are the entertainment, we should dress accordingly.  This mother then turned to her daughter, the author, who was wearing a plain blue and white dress, and said, “See, did you hear that?”

A friend, who knew my mother, and had just read the book, suggested I give out vintage handkerchiefs when people bought a book.  So, I ordered 108 vintage hankies on Amazon.   When I asked a book buyer if they’d like a handkerchief to go along with their book—they were fanned out on the table in a rainbow of colors--it also unleashed such stories of nostalgia for their moms and their mom’s handkerchiefs.

My next out of town gig is the Annapolis Book Festival, and I’m looking forward to the stories and the interactions with people who attend.  If you’re near Annapolis and the Key School on April 6, stop by and introduce yourself and share your stories.

Jo Giese is an award-winning radio journalist, author, teacher, and former TV reporter.  jo@jogiese.com

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Day 14--The Final Leg--Home!

Hope and Grace

Monday, April 25, we leave Los Olivos at 9:20, and pull into our driveway at 11:45 AM. Eddie’s West Coast Birthday Road Trip has lasted for 14 days, 2,363 miles!

"Are we still friends?” I say to Ed as we drive south on PCH into Malibu.

“Definitely,” he says.

“Did you like your Birthday Road Trip?”

“Yes. It’s something I always dreamed of doing. I get to check it off the list.”

At home, I take out the bottle of wine he bought us last night in Los Olivos. He says he was attracted to it because it’s the same vintner that produced the terrific wine he was enjoying at dinner. On the other hand, I take it personally. The label says Hope and Grace. A lovely way to return Home.

Day 13 ends!

We have a late afternoon snack at the wine bar at the Los Olivos Cafe.

I order the Salad Nicoise and iced coffee (to keep me alert on the road for the next stage of our hugely too-long journey).

When the beautiful salad arrives, I think the "chicken" seems on the raw side, but these folks know what they're doing, so I eat it. It's only at the end of the meal that I realize I am so tired I cannot tell chicken from seared ahi.

After we order, Ed says, Why don't you see if they have a room? The Fess Parker Wine Country Inn is directly across the street. We've stayed there before for a friend's wedding. Michael, the lovely man at the front desk, says they have one room left with a King bed. Since it's 5 o'clock he offers it to me for about 40% off.

Immediately I also notice how beautifully they've upgraded the Fess Parker. And it is such a relief to be in a lovely, quiet beautiful place and to be off the road!

I join Ed back at the Cafe, and tell him we have a room here for the night. I tell our waiter that I want to substitute my iced coffee with a glass of white wine!

I tell Ed how much I love him.

After our lovely meal, we walk around town. It's so lovely to see the gorgeous flowers in bloom, and to go slow... by foot.

Day 13 continues

The birthday boy says he wants to be home. To sleep in his own bed tonight. I understand. After a pickup lunch at Subway--there were only a few other people there but Sunday lunch at Subway seemed downright lonely--and more road trip snacks we'd never eat at home, we're pretty tired of this.

Looking at the map we thought we'd break up the Sacramento-LA leg of the trip by spending the night in Paso Robles. But we speed by there too early in the afternoon.

Ed's driving and the highway signs say Santa Barbara is only 150 miles away, and so Home is only another hour after that. But that's 3 more hours. At least.

My butt, excuse me Babe, but my butt has gone numb from sitting on it. I discovered years ago writing my first book that I function best standing up. Thus, I have a standing writing desk. This sitting for 2,000+ miles is butt-numbing.

I don't say much. If Ed feels he can drive for another 3 hours and we pull into Home at 6 or 7, okay. But I'm so tired that I'm on the verge of tears.

Day 13 continues and continues

Out of Sacramento we're on the 5. The brain-numbing 5, as one friend, Charles, called it. On Sunday morning I expected the traffic to be Sunday lite with few of the big trucks. Wrong. And it's not brain numbing because the big trucks are passing each other, and small cars are passing us at 85 mph. If your brain goes numb on the 5...well I don't want to speculate the tragedy.

We turn off the 5 at the 152 at Gilroy to wend our way down the 101. Immediately there are acres and acres--more like miles and miles--of agriculture. Don't you always wonder when you're driving what is growing in that field? How hard would it be for farmers, or more likely, the agricultural industrial giants, to post a sign or two for the road traveler? Growing chard for you.

After passing hundreds of miles of agriculture on this road trip, we saw only one sign: Growing broccoli for you. Kiss the guy!

Right after we got on the 101 we passed fruit stands selling mostly strawberries and cherries and the highway air smelled distinctly of garlic. Lovely.

Day 13 Sunday Sacramento

We wake up at the Citizen Hotel feeling road weary. Last night's experience at this hotel didn't help.

After a lovely dinner at the Grange, the excellent restaurant here at the Citizen, we returned to our room. I had my pajamas on, and had poured myself another class of wine, and we're both snuggled in bed, but there's no denying there's some huge loud ruckus very nearby. We're on the 8th floor, what's going on? Finally, we can't stand the noise anymore. The front desk says there's a wedding in their event area on the 7th floor.

So why did someone put us in a room on the 8th floor directly above the wedding!? Was it the only room left in the hotel? No. Eventually they offer to move us down to the 3rd floor. We pack up, Ed puts on his clothes, I go in my pajamas. By the time we get settled in our new room I need a bit of Ambien to sleep.

At dinner we sat next to a couple, and Eric, the husband, struck up a conversation with us. Turns out he and his wife, both 39, are retired. (He was with the sheriff's department, and something about a helicopter crash where he was the only survivor apparently left him with many disabilities--though none visible--and a huge settlement.) Anyway Eric and Stacey tell us about their road trip--37 days, 9,400 miles. And only one argument, adds Stacey.

Favorite road snack!

Boy, we're on our 13th day. To think that we could have 24 more to go boggles the mind of this weary road warrior.

I know we're lucky to have this experience, and yesterday was fabulous when Mount Shasta popped into view. Today I'm looking forward to the agricultural areas we'll drive through. But I do think my friend, Nanette, had the right idea when she said, So are you renting a car and flying back? Next time.

Sacramento

Night 12. We pull into Sacramento about 2:30, and on the recommendation of our good pal, Karen York, we check into the Citizen Hotel.

It's a short 2 block walk to the Capitol. On the walk we quickly see that it's wedding and senior prom season. The wedding parties everywhere posing for photos reminded us of wedding season in China.

Now prom season is another matter altogether. With many of the seniors the girls are all put together, looking gorgeous, and there are no guys around. So with this one group of 4 seniors, dressed to the hilt, I asked if I could take their photo, and we got to talking. "Where are the guys?", I asked. "Too much trouble," answered one of the girls. Another girl explained that they were going together as a group to the prom.

Oh. The girls were giggling, but were they happy about their situation?

Mount Shasta, California

On Day 12, we crossed into California, and began sinking into the highway 5 doldrums of boring scenery. Until Mount Shasta popped out of the clouds! Wow! It reminded me of being in Chilean Patagonia and the clouds lifted and suddenly there was the most jaw-dropping landscape.

We drive with Mount Shasta to our left for probably an hour. What a bonus.

We check into the Citizen hotel in Sacramento, suggested by our good pal, Karen York, about 2:30.

So today we drove 336 miles in about 7 hours. Boy, that would not be possible on squirrelly, curvy highway 1. Lots of people hate highway 1, but it has some advantages!

Day 12

We're at 1,552 miles when we pull out of Grants Pass at 7:45 am, on our way to the California border. Grants Pass struck me as a livable, friendly, pretty small town. It helped that the Japanese cherry blossom trees were in bloom.

And it rained last night when we were out at dinner, and again this morning. No wonder this area is neon-green.

The Lodge at Riverside

At Grants Pass on the Rogue River. Simple, basic, friendly. Lovely. Exactly what you'd like to happen upon on a road trip.

11th night at Grants Pass

Very green, very wet.

The Open Road

The "Open Road" on the 5 south of Portland is not so open because of all the logging trucks. But these trucks with their enormous loads are a pretty fascinating sight.

Day 11 on the road

Heading Home.
At 12 noon, and at 1,304 miles into our adventure, we leave Portland and head south on the 5. More later on why we're on our way Home now instead of heading out to Bend, Sisters, and Crater Lake. Thank god, the threatening storm clouds have lifted and it's pretty easy, open road driving. 🚗

Pacific Northwest Weather

Our first "weather" of the road trip.

Portland. Rains. Winds. More gusts of wind. A black morning sky.

Depending on how you feel about weather, this could be dramatic and exciting and refreshing. Or miserable.

Maybe by the time we drive out conditions will have improved 🙏

Day 11 -- Road Trip Diary

In Portland our room at the River Place Hotel looks out on a lively pedestrian street scene bordering the Willamette River.

Day 10

We're leaving Cannon Beach, but first look how gorgeous the sky was this morning.

My brother says we should return in November and experience the storms. And Nancy, who works in reservations, says, Yes, November storms are exciting. Sometimes we lose all the power.

Our bellman says come back in June for the sandcastle building competition on the beach. He says it's the only time in the year when cars are allowed on the beach, and there are hundreds of cars. Very entertaining, he says. I bet.

We head out at 1,224 miles at 11:00, and pull into the River Place Hotel in Portland at 12:45. We've traveled 1,304 miles.

It's so different taking a road trip these days with the help of Destination Assist. As we approach our destination--this time Portland and the River Place Hotel--Ed connects with a nice person in destination assist. A live person punches our destination into our dashboard map. Just like that we take the right exits, follow her directions, make the right turns, and we glide directly in front of the hotel? It still surprises me how perfectly it works, and how easy it is.

There's no arguing over a map, and directions. Lord, what a difference Destination Assist would have made with our family road trips when I was younger.

Ed and I drive about 150 miles or so, and we're cooked. I marvel at how Babe would drive us--the 3 kids plus a neighbor friend (Dad was staying behind to work) from Houston to Seattle, averaging about 500 miles a day? How did she do that? And with no GPS, no Destination Assist, no cell phone? She was some Babe.

Day 8 arrival Cannon Beach

On our arrival at the gorgeous Stephanie Inn there were birthday balloons, cupcakes, and even a birthday float for the bathtub for Ed.

Day 9

This is our view of the iconic Haystock Rock at Cannon Beach, Oregon, from our corner room at the Stephanie Inn.

We are not moving today. Not one mile.

On a road trip it's also important to know when to stay put, relax, put your feet up in front of the fire, and enjoy another cup of coffee.

The Oregon Coast

We're setting off today at 1,083 miles into our Road Trip.

We are a little stiff from sitting in the car, so before we start off we take a deep hot soak, and do floor stretches.

No matter how often you see the Oregon coast it is still miraculously magnificent. Spectacular. The waves are fierce, a muscular angry force. One sign warns against sneaker waves and standing too close to the cliffs. There's a monument to 2 young, strong swimmers who were drowned in 3 minutes by a sneaker wave.

It is not possible to get jaded to the sight of this coastline. No been there, seen that.

Day 8--Beginning Week 2 on the road!

Every morning in every new place there's something new and usually something goofy and fun to see. Like this colorful commercial building alongside "our" Highway 1 in Yachats. Yachats? Yes, Yachats.