Day One

On Tuesday, Mayday, May 1st 2007, Haideen and I set out from San Francisco to deliver the Topsy-Turvy bus to Ben Cohen in Vermont. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then I need to stop writing and put in some images here.

We had just finished a no-days-off 90-day work jag. Our work days measured between 12 and 16 hours each and we are tired.

But ours was a labor of love, and we were given the honor of delivering this creation to Ben and his organization called Business Leaders for Sensible Priorities. This bus has an important mission ahead I thought, and even if I would like to work on it for a few more days, it is time to get this friendly beast into the game. We will do the touch-up paint on the road, and anything that is not up to Ben’s liking can be dialed-in at our destination in Burlington.

Of course, these missions often start off in turmoil, and this one was no exception. Our first promo appearance was two hours away in Sacramento, and I have lost the keys to my car with last minute errands to run. Never fails. If this is a test, I want to pass. Worth noting is all of the help and support we received from build teammates Dana Albany and Chris DeMonterey that morning, as well as CyberSam the night before.

Nothing worthwhile is accomplished alone, at least nothing this big.

The 10 AM departure deadline is fast approaching as we fly across the Bay Bridge to Berkeley where Harrod Blank and Ken Duffy are waiting to snap a couple departure photos. We bid the beloved city of San Francisco farewell for now and head east. Our project had recently been given stellar treatment by Meredith May of the San Francisco Chronicle " Mobile politics: it's all art", and we felt that the entire Bay Area was behind us.

With heads still spinning, Haideen and I ponder our mission. Yes we are delivering the magic bus to Ben, but we are also representing the Sensible Priorities organization through a number of publicity stops along the way. And we will also touch a few of our fellow citizens during these troubled times and hopefully create a little lightness. Everything is so heavy these days.

And speaking of heavy, I have been feeling like Frodo as he carried the ring closer to Mordor. But instead of a magic ring, I have this magic bus, a giant peace-bomb that will be dropped on the Mordor-like Pentagon. I laugh to myself at the comparison, for I am just a man, not a hobbit.

We burn down I-80 and arrive at the capitol in Sacramento at 12:01pm.

Not bad considering the frenzy of the past 24 hours. There is an immigrant-rights May Day march happening, a peaceful one compared to what happened in LA at the same time, where police turned to violence against the May Day marchers there. But the Sacramento rally sucked up all of the mainstream-TV-news-oxygen in the room, and our cause was not acknowledged by the Sacramento media. But we are beginning to create a lot of cell-phone-camera snapping. And the people from the march stream by and into the bus for a look. It is a hit with many people.

Heading east from Sacramento, we cross a bridge that declares the presence of the American River. I slam the bus to the side of the rush hour traffic and grab an empty cup and run down to the river. Once filled with this symbolic water, I return to the bus and pour it across the hood of the bus in an all-to-brief ceremony, “I hereby anoint this bus with water from the American River, blessing our trip across America and its larger mission to take back our country from the faceless Pentagon bureaucrats. Let the journey begin!”

We then continued eastward, and soon stopped in Auburn for a diesel fill-up. Looking up, I saw some dudes in military garb, and their car with cool US-Army-recruiting-office-graphics. I pulled up to them and described part of the Sensible Priorities proposal, “Hey we just want to reduce the nuclear arsenal from the level of blowing up every major city ten times to only four.” They instantly agreed that it would be a good idea.

Further up the hill, at the I-80 exit for Colfax, we were greeted by friend Mike Tackaberry on his wheelie-popping motorcycle, who led us into the center of this idyllic Sierra-Nevada mountain town, and we parked outside of a very cool curio-extraordinaire store named Weird. At the store we were greeted by proprietor Wayne and a host of local characters. Wayne immediately began to interview us for the local paper and even printed custom Topsy shirts for us. The bus was swarmed by a variety of local folks. Someone driving by threw a coke at us, but overall, it was a very warm meet-and-greet for about an hour, before the road to Reno began to call.

The day ended in Reno, with advance calls to the media and a giant prime rib dinner with dearest friends Mama Lola Sweet and her son Tommy. Tomorrow we will be on TV and be photographed by the Reno Gazette.

Day Two - Cameras

How do you drive full days across the country, stop for promo events, and find the time to write about it at the same time? My hat is off to art car friend Rick McKinney, aka Duke, who hiked the Appalachian Trail one summer and wrote a book about it at the same time. He did it by training himself to touch type on a mini fold-out word processing unit while he lay on his back in his sleeping bag at night. The book is called Dead Men Hike No Trails, and I highly recommend it if you want a vicarious adventure. The Duke’s prolific writing is at: www.jigglebox.com.

Our adventure is punctuated by the click of the camera. You would not believe how many of you have cell phone cameras, and when we stop for food or gas, what happens.

While driving at night, the strobelight click of the digital flashbulb flickers in my left eye as people snap up images of Topsy as they pass. We know what it is like to exist in a fishbowl. Hopefully some of the images that people shoot will be printed and magneted to refrigerators.

We arose to a call from reporter Bill of KRNV, channel 4 in Reno. Bill and a cameraman meet us in the parking lot of a fast food joint off of I-80 and interviews both Haideen and myself. It went very well --- I didn't flub my spiel, and both reporter and cameraman seemed very sympathetic to the Sensible Priorities proposals; to create resources for much needed programs by reducing and eliminating obsolete cold war weapons systems. Anyone interested should check out the Korb Report.

We forget to take our own pictures at critical times, subconsciously choosing to be in the moment rather than document it. After the KRNV interview, we visited the Reno Gazette where photographer Marilynn took some pics of the bus. Then we went to a thrift shop to buy some extra warm clothes for the hike over the Rockies.

Getting ready to head to Salt Lake City, while visiting with friends Kelso and Emily-Melissa, a seasoned man of about 55 years jumped onto the bus, and generally tried to start an argument with us. In the end, he said that he liked having enough nuclear bombs to be able to blow up the world ten times over. “I like it how it is.”

Then Haideen asked him, “What about thou shall not kill?” He said, “That’s taking the Bible out of context.” We bid the armaggedonist fair adieu, trying to minimize our engagement with his end-of-the-world-hopelessness.

While driving across Nevada that night, we were stopped cold by a snowstorm. Day two ended in Wells, Nevada.

Day Three – Rocky is a Knock-Out

We woke up to better weather the next morning and shot onto the road, heading for the Office of Parking in Salt Lake City, where we paid $25 for a permit to park next to the stone building affectionately called “the castle” by the local folks. Soon Mayor Rocky Anderson came out for a look at the bus. He was full of energy and getting prepared for an impeachment debate the next day with FOX bozo Sean Hannity. Rocky had been inspired by an article he recently read about Lee Iacocca, and had other great ideas for the cause of reducing military waste so that more federal resources could be directed towards the needs of people. Salt Lake City is lucky to have this dude at the helm of their ship.

We also joined what we heard was a local weekly Code Pink event at the Federal Building, which turned out to be a dedicated cadre of peace activists, who hold up giant IMPEACH signs while a surprising amount of motorists honk their horns in support. Our own efforts attempt to be more centrist and anti-polarizing, although the thought of impeaching the current president is becoming a more rational option to fix the woes of our nation.

We end the day being hosted at X-treme Zen skiing goddess Kristen Ulmer’s house on the mountainside. Her neighbors came out and when they heard about the future of the bus as a movie theater and signature gatherer, they volunteered to sign the Declaration of Support. So the bus gathered it’s first signatures here in Salt Lake City.

Day Four – Continental Divide

Before we begin our drive through Wyoming, another new friend heard about our mission of reducing Pentagon waste. He then pointed at the picture-book mountains across the valley and said, “See those mountains over there? Behind them, there is an Air Force base I work at where they fly all the new experimental aircraft. They cost hundreds of millions of dollars to make and then thousands of dollars a minute to operate, and I see them just playing around with these big machines as if money doesn’t matter, just burning up federal tax dollars.” It was more anecdotal evidence that our cause is just.

What can I say about Wyoming? Vast and beautiful in a simple west-Texas kind-of-way. In the Little America rest stops, we are surrounded by Wyomans with digital cameras and cell phone cameras, but these are internal people who normally do not talk to strangers. One woman, dressed in a western hippy cowgirl fashion broke the taboo and started a conversation with Haideen. “Looks like it could have been made by a couple of talented drunks.” she said. We weren’t quite sure how to take that. As she left, she said, “Good Luck.” That’s a little better.

More snowy, slushy weather coming over the divide, the cold sloppy passage a metaphor for our divided country. I believe out in these parts, it is taboo to question anything about Pentagon spending. A decent portion of the economy is tied to the military and energy economies, so in a way, who can blame them? We drive across the border into Nebraska and find a $30 room in a place called the “Generic Motel.” I derive great pleasure from the economy of this cheap room in a well maintained establishment.

Day Five – Tornado Warning

We wake up in western Nebraska and continue east. I like reading the roadside signs as they have come up with all kind of reasons to try to get you to stop. The Military Vehicle Museum called out to my nephew on a trip last year. My favorite so far is Harold Warp’s Pioneer Village in Minden, just 12 miles off I-80. If you have any appreciation for history you will love these extensive collections of stuff, including over 300 automobiles.

In the middle of the state, I want to pull over at this giant fort-like arch that is built across the freeway to take a picture, but apparently everyone else has this idea as well and they have posted a sign every 100 yards threatening to fine you if you pull over. I snap a picture of the arch as we drive through it; not bad for a shot taken by the driver of a moving bus.

The wind from the south rises and rips across the plains with measurable fury, and I am reminded that I asked for some cross-winds to test out the drivability of the bus in these exact conditions. Trucks and vans are struggling as well, and I remember the technique of steering slightly into the wind at the moments the gusts hit you. Topsy is holding her own in extreme driving conditions.

In York, NE, we stop for lunch at a restaurant that has the weather channel on. Last night, to the south of us in Kansas a whole town was wiped out. And as I glance at the radar, I spy a yellow and red storm cell heading due north right at us as if we are pins in a great plains bowling alley. I ask Haideen to eat fast and we scoot out of there just before York is enveloped by red on the radar.

We head into Omaha where my father lives. A good visit and another free place to stay for the night. Haideen does some touch-up paint work, for tomorrow we head into Iowa, one of the homes of the bus (it is licensed there).

Day Six – Iowa Bound

After crossing the Missouri River, we hung out at the first Iowa rest stop and did more touch-up paint, for the bus needed to look good for its visit to Des Moines. After all, it does have Iowa plates and will spend a number of months here beginning in September after time in New Hampshire between now and then.

Also ahead was some tech help for both digital picture download and wireless hook-up, so this Topsy Turvy adventure might be shared – with you – right now. In Des Moines we were introduced to Liz and Jessica from the Iowa Sensible Priorities crew and their partners, Nathan and David. Yo Nathan, thanks for the tech help. Let me know if you ever need to learn how to weld.

After some delicious Viet Namese fare, we got a peek of the infamous True Majority pig car. Both Jessica and Liz say that it needs a face lift; I of course take pics of it.

Day Seven – Des Moines

Jessica led us to the Sensible Iowans office, where we met a staff of very friendly and competent people. I do not remember everyone’s name, but if it is a dude, you can call him Dave and probably be correct. We unloaded some of the extra items off the bus for the day, and headed for Scavo High School, caravanning with the pie-chart Honda Element car.

It was a great visit; the students came down and checked out the bus. Dave passed out some pie-chart cookies to help the students digest the information we were sharing with them. The school principal, Kitty, was about to retire and was beaming about the extra time she will soon have, but also was pleased about the work she has accomplished during her career.

And the Mayor of Des Moines, Frank Cownie, came by to say hello. Similar to Salt Lake, it was refreshing to know that this city has elected a sharp cookie to represent all of the people rather than just the monied interests. He was wearing a pie-chart pin on his lapel. Mayor Cownie told me a story about returning a campaign contribution to a questionable donor. The donor responded by telling him, “No one has ever returned a contribution to me.” The times, they are a changing. (I hope….)

Next stop was a downtown plaza that was soon filled with kids throwing pie chart Frisbees around, and every adult was soon brandishing red bar chart pens. Part of the crew took our lunch order and promised to meet us at the capitol.

As we neared the extremely ornate Iowa State capitol, a TV cameraman shot our approach.

We were surprised to see it was the local FOX affiliate, and after we parked the bus, the cameraman walked up the hill to us and interviewed me. I was told that I did a pretty good job staying on message, and we were excited that at least one local station covered our cause to reduce wasteful Pentagon spending.

So along with Reno, this was our second interview. As we rolled out of town, after saying goodbye to the fine Iowa staff, we decided to stop in the small town of Newton, so we might watch the interview on TV that night.

But the station never ran it. There were stories of local murder trials, and a controversy about a man who jams up his neighborhood with traffic due to his Christmas decorations, and even a politically goofy piece about a local Chinese-American baseball player who is running for president of the US. We feel a little like failures, because it is our assigned task to help spread the Sensible Priorities message not only person-to-person (which is going extremely well), but also via local TV coverage. We guess that we are not big enough celebrities, or maybe the message is too provocative, or maybe Ben has to be with the bus, or that the bus needs to be engaged in the campaign trail work. We try not to get too bummed about what effectively is a kind of censorship of our Pentagon Waste message. The networks, after all, are owned by the same giant corporations that profit from war and the military industrial complex. I will save some of my thoughts on this subject for when we drive the bus to the Pentagon.

Day Eight – towards Chicago

We head towards Chicago and I remember at the last minute to contact dear friend Eric Stephenson and his partner Judith. Eric is an extremely talented sculptor (www.lunarburn.com) who has the dubious honor of teaching me how to weld about twelve years ago. The Sears Tower and other towering beacons welcome us. After our arrival, we take the bus to a carwash and clean off the dirty rear end of the bus; we want to look good at the Chicago Public Schools Administration building in the morning.

As we parked the bus for the night, a teacher named Trini came out and said that she heard about us from an email, and that we could park the bus in front of her house where there is better light and she could keep an eye on it for us. We felt blessed to receive this kind of assistance.

Day Nine – The word is on the street

Rising early to drive into downtown rush hour traffic, we said goodbye to Eric and Judith, and arrived at the Administration building 30 minutes early. A traffic monitor person whisked us away and we were sentenced to cruising downtown Chicago during the morning rush. A lot of pedestrians saw us. And then some more during our two-hour presence in front of the school administration building. Today, we are sharing the fact that if everyone gets behind and passes the Common Sense Budget Act, that the Chicago area will receive $98 million federal for the modernization and upkeep of their schools.

We were joined by Dr. Patricia Blessman Jones and her friend Rachel, two local activists who not only joined us in our efforts to talk to people, but they also bought us a fine lunch. On to Kennedy-King College, home of the Statesmen, where we had great conversations with teachers, students and even many members of the public who had heard about our visit on the radio the day before. It was a fantastic visit from the people point of view, but the mainstream media was absent because of a local double murder.

Onwards to Cleveland via the Indiana and Ohio Turnpikes……..

Day Ten & 11 – Onward to Washington

The days all blend together at this point, with both moments of contact with great people, and turnpike-gasoline-caffeine stops. We miss a school visit in Cuyahoga Falls, arriving 25 minutes late after the buses drove all the kids home. Sorry Aaron. The Ohio Turnpike has these grandly laid out entrance and exit paths to the toll booths that make no sense from a land-use perspective, and we are making a lot of wrong turns.

The trip is now getting foggy, the ring is getting heavy, but despite this fact, we plod on towards Washington. We have work to do there. Code Pink is having a gathering of mothers and kids, which works for us on this Mother’s Day weekend. We are also planning our meaningful Anti-Pentagon-Waste-Ritual, which we decide to do on a Sunday, of course.

We roll into DC on a Friday evening and grab a room at the Budget Motel on New York Avenue while it is still light outside. It cost $75, which is at the high end for our artist sensibilities, but we suspect is low for DC. The place is practically empty when we check in, before driving out to U-street and having an excellent Ethiopian meal at a place called Dukem.

That night, I have the surreal experience of peeking out the motel window to check on the bus and seeing the entire parking lot filled with both cars and people. The driveway resembled a full McDonald’s drive-thru, solid cars, all checking out the bus. Inner-city DC was turning on to the bus, or maybe it’s just a normal night out there. I look around for the camera to document this phenomenon, but it was put away, and I don’t want to wake Haideen. Also, I don’t think camera flashes coming from my window would be a good idea.

The next day, when we reach the Code Pink house, we are welcomed with open arms and everyone loved the bus. We meet Medea Benjamin and her colorful crew. These people are vocally anti-war and anti-Bush. It is a breath of fresh air for us, as it has been a huge personal challenge to represent the centrist Sensible Priorities issue with people who think that the war is just and that our young soldiers who are getting killed and kidnapped are there for good reason. An uncountable number of Iraqi people have been killed-----I personally think that Bush and Cheney are war criminals similar to Nazis and should spend the rest of their lives in jail for manipulating intelligence and starting a false war so their oil company and Halliburton and Blackwater cronies can make bank. Look at how much gasoline costs. In my dreams, I frequently volunteer for the duty of personally kicking the president’s ass, but I am committed to non-violent conflict resolution, so I have to be creative and make art instead.

We spend some time outside the pink house working on the bus – installing lights, touching up paint and applying polyurethane to where we believe the leaks are. Don’t worry Ben ---- the leaks are minor! We hear that a neighbor is complaining that the bus is attracting too much traffic to their street. Sorry…..

Saturday night, we drive to the College Park area near the University of Maryland for a more restful sleep. While eating in the local diner across the street, the sky opens up and we run home in the driving rain. We will know in the morning if my roof fixes get the job done.

Topsy Turvy Mother's Day in Washington

We had upgraded to a Days Inn the night before because I wasn’t sure our luck would hold at the Budget Inn for two nights in a row, and our extra morning energy was a sign of a good move. We cruise to a cafe called Busboys and Poets. We had been invited by the owner to park in front of the joint, but there must not have been effective communication between the owner and the manager, because they botched the task of saving a place for us to park. We bought ourselves a coffee and waited for about 30 minutes for the slot machine odds of two contiguous spaces coming open in front of such a busy place. Nothing was happening, so we left the poets and cruised over to the Washington Post to drop a press kit off to one of our modern day media heroes, writer Dana Priest. Priest is well known for breaking the story of secret black-site prisons in Eastern Europe, as well as the recent Walter Reed neglect story. Our story of massive Pentagon waste is a giant story as well; maybe the Post has the strength to shine the light of truth on it.

But the time waiting out in front of B & Poets was not wasted as I was able to recopy and edit some scribbled verse that Haideen and I had written two days earlier while rolling down the Pennsylvania Turnpike. It was the nucleus of our Anti-Pentagon-Waste-Ritual, and today we were driving the bus over to the Pentagon to conduct that very ceremony. After the Post, we stopped for some food at a groovy place called CakeLove on U-street. CakeLove is our Mother’s Day breakfast place, and people there were staring at my chest.

Yes, now I know what women experience because I was wearing a very special t-shirt given to me by sculptor friend Brian Goggin (www.metaphorm.org). On the front there is a giant heart and three faces; Osama, Saddam and George W. On the back it says, “Make (heart), Not War.” I pretend to not remember I have the shirt on, as people are either cracking up, smiling or simply having a confused look on their faces. Probably more weird now that Saddam has been executed. This is the art car of T-shirts; Brian bought it in Thailand a while back....

So we have done everything else and it is now time to go to the Pentagon and conduct our Anti-Waste Ritual. We refer to our tourist map and drive over the Highway 1 bridge to confront the beast. I don’t imagine we will get very close, but we will try. Part of the ritual is to drive around it three times counter-clockwise in order to unwind its power. Our first wrong turn leads us to Arlington National Cemetery, but then we actually find an exit that leads us to the Pentagon’s South Parking lot. We missed the March 16 march on the Pentagon because we were building the bus, so this ritual will have to do.

It is a Sunday; most of the military people must be enjoying a day off, because the lot is empty. A little ways up there is a cop car and I decide to ask him where we might take a picture of both the bus and the building. He informed us that we could not take a picture and that we had to leave immediately.

So we hightailed it out of there and continued our counterclockwise circling, which to me had a kind of comic, “We have you surrounded!” edge to it, as well as being a practical way to look around and find a place that would work for the ritual but not get us busted.

While completing the first lap, we saw another cop car, but he did not follow us. On the second lap, in an effort to find a different circuit around, we made a wrong turn and wound up at Reagan Airport. Another turn and we were in a place called Pentagon City. I figured it was good to spread our scent around; maybe they will see our Calvary coming and begin reducing wasteful obsolete programs voluntarily (yeah, right).

On the third lap, we spotted a two-hour parking area open to the public near Lady Bird Johnson Island, which is a bird watching area, and we pull in. I grab the poem and start to read, while onlookers listen. Haideen begins to take pictures. I get through about seven verses and then the same cop who we encountered earlier pulls up with his lights on. Ironically, he looks like Danny Glover’s younger brother.

Right now, I am writing this whole story down from a Leavenworth prison cell, sitting next to Leonard Peltier and Mumia Abu Jamal. No, not really, but at this moment I want to recognize these two political prisoners and others who are wrongfully detained by the prison industrial complex. It is almost enough to scare a person into becoming an ostrich.

Anyway, here is the poem that the cop stopped after the seventh verse. We had to finish reading it as we drove past the building, while completing the third lap….

WASTEFUL – DISTASTEFUL – DISGRACEFUL

by Tom Kennedy and Haideen Anderson 2007

Those of you who back the war
Who make-up what we’re fighting for
You’re truly living by the sword
Shame on you and your entire hoard

Those of you who pump the fear
Through mainstream media’s friendly ear
You’re the one who should be damned
By those of us with extended hands

War pigs roasting on the spit
Sausage bacon burned a bit It’s time for you to call it quits
Go make some friends and chill a bit

All of you who were raised on hate
For Armageddon you just can’t wait Your names are on the Devil’s Slate
A life in hell is your just fate

Pentagon Pentagon your budget’s bloated
Your wastefulness has been noted
The last time that the people voted
It was WAR that was demoted

Nationalism is the disease
Created by you lying slease
You stoke the fires of fear with ease
Be gone with you! I bid your leave

How many people have to die
Before you hear the people’s cry?
I wish that I could ask you why
So many people have to die?

You who kill people as you please
Lay down your arms and go in peace
If you continue your evil ways
Your soul will vanish into the haze

You who start a war with lies
Who cannot hear the childrens cries
Who now ALL people do despise
We know your heart is full of flies

Those of you who deal in death
Whose lips drip blood with every breath
We hereby take your power away
And give it back to the people today

Where’s the wasted money?
In the land of milk and honey
You think this war is funny?
Your Pinocchio nose is runny!

Pentagon, Pentagon
Where’s that trillion dollars gone?
In the pockets of your cronies
Who are stealing the tax money
Rumsfeld’s legacy does remain
Public loss for private gain!

So we put the charm offensive on this cop while he runs the license plate on the bus and my drivers license. During that time, I guess he decided that he did not need to erase the pictures we had taken, which was his initial threat. But now the Pentagon knows we are out here, and this time we do not come back when we pull away.

While finishing the poem on the freeway, I glance over at the Pentagon building and was a little disappointed that it didn’t crumble into dust. I guess I will just have to work harder in the future. My hat is off to the memory of Abby Hoffman and his entire Yippie crew who attempted to levitate the Pentagon back in the day. We are with you.

And now, with the symbolic actions completed, we drive toward the White House and Lafayette Park, where there is a Code Pink Mother’s Day Rally and Kids March. We somehow attain rock star parking on H street, right where the tour buses load and unload.

Up on the stage were inspiring speakers, performers and children singing. Medea Benjamin was the MC, Cindy Sheehan shared inspiring thoughts, and Patch Adams led a “fart-along” to the tune of John Lennon’s Give Peace a Chance song.

This is really hard to describe in words, but if you make that artificial fart-cheek sound to the part of the song that goes, “All we are saaayyying, is give peace a chance,” three times, then you will be right there along side of us.

This was a spirit-lifting experience, and when the speeches were done, everyone grabbed a banner and began the half-block march to the fence of the back yard of the White House. I could see sharp-shooter guards up on a platform above the white landmark, and of course there were secret service agents everywhere. I imagined George peeking though the curtains and then needing to call his mother on the phone. Is there a special Mother’s Day for the mothers of the war-mongers?

I pose for photos with my shirt in front of the White House; it ends up being a fairly radical act to wear a shirt with those three bozos on it.

Tomorrow is Philadelphia, city of brotherly love. It will be our last chance to garner some publicity for the Sensible Priorities crew and the Common Sense Budget Act.

…a couple ‘o links…

Our dear friend CybersAM Frangiamore wired up a lot of this bus, and he made a great photo blog that can be found at: www.cyberbuss.com/index2.htm

Sammy also spotted the fact that our journey is being shared on the truemajority.org website, and highly recommends this link: www.truemajority.org/colbert/video.php

Success in Philadelphia

We wake from our Motel 6 digs, and grab Waffle House sandwiches to-go, and fly towards Philly singing the Rocky Theme and Elton John’s Philadelphia Freedom along the way. We are headed toward their historic city hall building which is quite beautiful, and meet Sheila Simmons and a local Code Pink leader named Z, who help to guide us around the block and up onto the sidewalk right next to the city hall building itself.

This turns out to be an excellent event; the local ABC affiliate covered it as well as the Philadelphia Daily News and three or four other local papers. Speeches were given and I was invited to talk as well. I informed the audience that if the Common Sense Budget Act is approved that Philadelphia stands to gain $51 million per year in Federal money for school modernization and renovations.

Everyone in the small crowd came forward to sign the Declaration of Support. It was a successful event due to many factors. Coordination by Aaron Rubin, local organizing on the ground by Sheila and Z, and a political climate in Philly that was open and supportive of our message all added up to Success with a capital “S”. We felt that we had finally achieved what we had attempted to do in Salt Lake City, Des Moines, and Chicago.

Afterwards, we head to a place near the university called the White Dog Café. More evidence of our good fortune resulted in two parking spots in a row opening up just as we arrived, and we were treated to an excellent meal there. As we prepared to leave, one of the Penn professors stuck his head in the doorway and we had an excellent conversation about everything. He wanted us to tour all of the major east coast university towns with our message. Among other stories that he shared was one about George W’s early years at Yale. Apparently, he was known for mixing up bathtubs full of liquors, juices and LSD, and his nickname back in those days was sugar lips! The things that one learns on the road…..

We depart from Philly on the leading edge of the rush-hour crest, heading for New York City. A few more toll booths, another stunning sunset and a ride through the Lincoln Tunnel saw us arriving just after dark to meet up with Haideen’s old running buddies, most of whom are members of the Missile Dick Chicks. We exchange stories including a report from me of my January deposition. It is a different story than the one I am telling right now, but I will say that back in 2004 when the Republicans had their convention here, I was one of the 1800 demonstrators that were unconstitutionally, illegally and falsely arrested by the NY police. I was held for over 30 hours and not charged with anything. When I was let out of the infamous tombs, I asked the courtroom dude what I was being charged with. He looked down at the paperwork, to the blank section where the charges should have been, scribbled down some code, and then looked up at me and said, “Disorderly Conduct.” Welcome to the New American Century.

Back to the present, I will report that New York City loved the bus. Of course we had to make an appearance at Times Square, and the bus, with all of its trick lighting, was surrounded by tourists and locals alike. Some of the locals got almost mad when they heard that the bus wasn’t staying in New York. “It belongs here!” they exclaimed.

After dropping off all the chicks (and their accompanying dudes), we shot into the night, bumping down the relatively empty Bronx-Queens Expressway. It was after midnight, and we were escaping at what felt like the exact right time in order to not get stuck in any of the famous traffic.

The long and successful day ended around 3:00am at the Honey Spot Motor Lodge in Stratford, Connecticut. Our long journey to Burlington was coming to an end.

Take a left in New Haven

The next day, we meet Haideen’s parents while parked next to the Long Island Sound on the side of I-95. We couldn’t make it all the way to their hometown of Noank, but it was important to show them what Haideen and her new west coast friends had made. They were very excited about the bus and its mission, and I am sure that the next time they buy ice cream it will be Ben & Jerry’s.

I-91 heads north from here, and I wish we had more time to stop and look around. My own father started college at Yale, but the urge to finish the journey overwhelms all of the other options, and we stay on course. We drive through Enfield, Springfield and Deerfield and I am reminded of gun manufacturing. Haideen tells me there is a Colt factory near here in Hartford. As we get closer to our last overnight stop in White River Junction, we begin a conversation about our journey and all of the stops and all of the people we have met.

It has been a fantastic journey and we are thankful to Ben, Duane, Erin and the entire Sensible Priorities crew for letting us deliver the bus to them instead of picking it up in California. One really does get the feeling of taking the pulse of the nation when one takes such a trip in such a vehicle. You get to talk, or make eye contact, or wave at just about everybody. And everyone else snaps photos of you. Make an art car and try it sometime; it will change your life.

Almost universally, people agree that reducing Pentagon waste is a great and needed idea, with two notable exceptions. The first, and hopefully the smallest slice, are the Armageddonists. They want and expect the world will end during their lifetimes. I hope they are wrong. Their irresponsible notions allow them to behave badly toward both the environment and to future generations. To them I say, “Get a life worth living.”

The second group contains all those who benefit, either directly or indirectly, from the way things currently are. If your current job is in the Military Industrial Complex, you might tend to rationalize why all of this military-Pentagon-bullshit is needed. “There are people out there who want to do us harm.” Personally, I believe that if our country started a real process of befriending and assisting people from around the world to lead decent, hopeful lives, that we would get a lot more return for our dollar. Why couldn’t the U.S. sink clean water wells everywhere, so that all humans could have a fresh drink of water in the morning? This is not rocket science. If one-tenth of the Pentagon budget were spent on good works like that, we wouldn’t need to spend the other nine-tenths.

My sense of our collective challenge is to reorient those whose personal, local or regional economies are based on the military, and guess what, that means all of us. It can happen if we take it one step at a time; that is how we built the Topsy-Turvy bus. It can be done. Let’s jump-start manufacturing in the U.S. back up again, making good things that are related to the words sustainable and of course, sensible.

That is my nugget, that’s what we squeezed out of this journey. And you wouldn’t know it from the mainstream media either. The bottom line is that they profit from conflict, and so they will have to be shown the way by all of the rest of us, who sign the Declaration of Support for the Common Sense Budget Act, and get the issue of Pentagon waste back into the collective conversation.

Final Run to Burlington

We wake up in White River Junction. Last night we were given a Vermont Welcome by Shirley Young and Carlos, two friends of our SF housemate and fellow bus-builder Flash Hopkins, who used to be known as the Turkey leg Baron during his young adult years. This morning, we tried to hook-up with Carlos so he can get a daytime picture of the bus, but he is not answering his phone or door. Sorry Carlos.

Up the road in Randolph, we stop for a roadside newspaper interview with reporter Bill Busha, who asks some of the most intelligent questions of our whole journey "Topsy Turvy Bus Carries Sober Message". Flash helped to set this up, as he used to work at the Randolph Herald, and he wants to scoop the Burlington paper. Don’t worry Flash, the Burlington paper didn’t even show-up at our arrival press event.

But two TV stations did, as we visit an elementary school with both Ben Cohen and ice cream aboard. The Associated Press also sent a photographer, so who knows how many people saw pics of the bus the next day.

So I now step down from this soap-box and release my latest child into the world. It lives on diesel fuel, and will hopefully be fed a little biodiesel (into its second tank) as well. I will end this by listing the credits for the creation of the bus. As you can see, we did not do it alone. Bon Voyage!

TOPSY-TURVY BUS

Created by Ben Cohen
Idea and Design by Stefan Sagmeister
Built for Business Leaders for Sensible Priorities
Custom Fabrication by Tom Kennedy and Haideen Anderson
With assistance from:

Flash Hopkins, Dana Albany, Chris DeMonterey, CyberSam Frangiamore, Mojo Risin, Steve Monohan, Jim Skinner, Cazz Casner, Mike Tackaberry, Wrybread, Dave Murphy, Gary Wilson, Shaista Parveen, Steve Baker & Wally Glen
Project Engineer: Michael Prados – Ideal Mechanism
Graphics Design Assistance by Joe Shouldice
Graphics Application by Steve Vigeant at Berkeley Signs
Ground Control Assistance: Alex Finberg & Erin Elliott
Special Thanks To: Dan Das Man and Karen Cusolito, Tom Dias, Michael Snook, John Bolero, Bill Kennedy at ACE, Brian Goggin, Marian Goodell, Andie Grace, Larry Harvey, Liz and Henry Miller, Charlie Ott, Mel & Carlos at Dusty & Sons, Bus Mart Inc., Western Bus, Zachers Dismantlers, Urban Ore, Airgas, Bay Area Iron Works Supplier, The Box Shop, Biodiesel Tank donated by Laidlaw SF
Extra Special Thanks To: Ben Cohen, Stephan Sagmeister, Duane Peterson & Jerry Greenfield Business Leaders for Sensible Priorities True Majority