When Ray and Austin crashed the parade in Indy and ended up in a car with Karen Catchpole and her husband Eric Mohl, the masterminds behind Transamericas Journey, for some reason, it didn’t click. And then in some sort of delayed reaction, we hear from the mighty Lew last night, saying “Karen Catchpole!” And it still didn’t click. And then he added context clues and we were like, “Oh, duh. That Karen Catchpole!”
The Karen Catchpole who wrote for the incredibly ruling Sassy! (Lew worked on the equally-ruling “Sassy for boys” concept, Dirt, which everyone lucky enough to catch during its brief run laments as ahead of its time.) Needless to say, people like Lew and Karen had a big impact on us and the women we’ve loved during our formative years. And now she and Eric are off on a three-year, 70,000-mile journey all over North, South and Central America in a Chevy Silverado. And as Karen said to us in an e-mail this evening, “Despite the fact that I’m on the road for three years driving through North, Central and South America and that — in and of itself — assumes that the world is BIG, I am sometimes very glad (and tickled) when it turns out to be this small.” We entirely concur.
Support these people. Write them and convince them why they should come to your town and see weird things. Buy them odd regional foods only sold in the southeastern corner of your county. Show them the strange and odd facts about and strange-ass artifacts of your town. We’re totally taking them to the Los Angeles Maritime Museum. And to the apartment where Watt and Boon wrote the first Minutemen record. And maybe, if we’re lucky, we can repeat the dork maneuver we made a week ago where we drove past George Hurley’s house cranking Double Nickels on the Dime while George was outside talking to his neighbor.