Evening star., 1947-08-14

The tourist who starts west from Washing
ton by automobile this summer soon finds that
he Is member of a great caravan In size it
Is greater than the trains of covered wagons
which headed in the same direction less than
a century ago. The present-day caravan is
we'll supplied with the gold its predecessors
were seeking. 1t travels much faster-60 and
10 miles an hour. 1t sweeps across the praires
over smooth straight roads. 1t has no fear of
Indians-but its members must resort to trick
cry and carefully planned strategy to outwit
the room clerks, contemptuous and aloof behind
their barriers of booked-up registers.
Curious acquaintanceships spring up between
the members of the caravan. They resemble
the feeting companionships formed on ship
board. Eating breakfast in Dubuque, Iowa. one
mods to fellow traveller as to an old friend,
whom saw, but did not speak to, In Mans
field, Ohio. At prairie gas station in Iowa.
who drives up next in line but the fellow from
whom you got match during stop on the
Pennsylvania turnpike two days ago. In
Rapid City, s. OAK, restaurant you find
a man at the next table whom you saw turn
ing dials week ago ir Washington
radio station. Leaving the highest lookout over
the Yellowstone Canyon, you bump into
Washington doctor-with all his family-who
was being PACED over the loudspeaker system
in Garfield Hospital 10 days ago.
Small world? And how very much alike it is,
no matter what part of it one may be passing
by in America. The menu cards in the restau-
rants must all have come from the same chef
and the same printer, the scurrying mattresses
from the same mold. The radio station
nouncers are introducing the same soap operas,
giving their identically gullible accounts of the
news. misplacing their emphasis on the same
unimportant trivia, no matter where you tune
them in. The movies are all the same, the
drugstores are Of a single pattern, the gas
stations are all alike, the signs to entice-but
which actually repel-the hungry traveller all
come from the same sloganeer. And in every
village and city the parking problem is the
same parking problem.
Wardrobes No Problem.
But the members of the caravan-there the
contrast begins. All are touring travellers
under the skin, but from the skin out variety
asserts itself. In costume there is no agree
ment as to taste. The hotel which posts this
sign over the dining room entrance-"No one
will be served wearing shorts. halters, sweat
shirts, bare midriffs, etc"--has learned from
experience Of the vagaries of itinerant Gus
TONER'S Some caravaneers are in jeans and
sweat SnlrLS, men ana women alike. some wear
clothing designed for the beach, but which
now turns up on the prairies Of South Dakota.
The make and cost of car offer guide as
to what may please the sartorial fancy of its
occupants.
They swoop down the highways in all man.
ner OF vehicles New automobile production
must have been underestimated somewhere
along the line, for there are thousands of
them. shining and spick- -and-span But the day
Of the jalopies, despite the war and automo-
bile inspections, Is not gone The trailer Is
present in every form, from the one-wheel
carts, piled high with camp and /or household
equipment, to the elegant Pullman-like crea-
tions, apartment houses on wheels. The driv
ers of these trailers wear harassed expression
which seems common to them all. They must
find parking difficult, the hills slow them up
they are the recipients of cross bleats from
the horns of passing drivers. Their facial
expressions reflect the psychological effects of
being constantly followed.
They are slaves to the camera. A striking
view is not enough. Little Willie or Grandma
must be In the view. The hkenesses Of Wash
ington Jefferson, Teddy Roosevelt and Lincoln,
with Borglum carved from the granite of Mount