American on Purpose: The Improbable Adventures of an Unlikely Patriot

by Craig Ferguson

I was intrigued and captivated by the sleaze and desperation, and thanked my lucky stars I had never been here drunk; I don’t think it would have ended well. The town itself made me uneasy, so I got out of there pretty quickly, savoring my solo access to the Jeep’s pitiful heater all the way across the Mojave Desert. The desert is magical at night, and, with the instincts of a bikini model in a slasher movie, I turned off of the interstate and headed out into the wilderness for about five miles. Then I stopped the Jeep on the lonely dirt road and listened to the silence. I got out and walked away from the car and looked up at the immense blackness of the night sky, and the tininess of myself against the enormity of the universe had never been more obvious, even on acid. An inexplicable bolt of terror shot through my system. Then I remembered what Rock and Roll Susie had said, that fear might be God’s way of saying, “Pay attention, this could be fun,” and I said aloud to whoever was out there, even if it was only me: “Between safety and adventure, I choose adventure.” I stood for a bit longer until I started to feel a little foolish. Then I got back in the Jeep and drove to L.A.