I just spent more than an hour effectively talking through what I wanted to say here and deleted that draft. Now I don’t have enough time to do that and get a proper amount of sleep.
But you know I’ll restart my rant anyway, at least in part.
Long story short, as I have said from the beginning of this blog nearly 11 years ago, I am not getting paid to write any entries, post photos, share links or anything else as EXIT 265C or as/in the viaduct. If I shamelessly plug anything as EXIT 265C, it’s because I wanted to plug it shamelessly. (I have a rarely used tag that says just that. I’ve been meaning to dust it off, but I have too many tags and you should know this fact.)
Anyway, I’m hoping to head off a slippery slope.
Elliott Robinson can do whatever he wants but EXIT 265C is sacred.
EXIT 265C means too much to my entire life. It started when the Virginia Department of Transportation renumbered the exit we used the most to go to my mother’s house. It continued when I realized I inevitably would leave my hometown and wanted, no, needed something to represent those days in the woods of Y.H. Thomas, the bike races, the early fall nights on Grandview Beach, everything from 1983 to 2001 that made me who I am. It continued when I paid to put that name on a domain on this corner of the Internet. It continues to evolve to this day.
EXIT 265C, as me, neither shall be nor perceived to be entangled in any other entity.