IT WAS A RANDOM FRIDAY WHEN MY FRIEND PHIL CALLED with an interesting offer: “Hey, want to drive cross-country with me to Austin, Texas, on Sunday and go to the South by Southwest music festival?” I was in my early 20s, out of college and working as a teacher in New York. I had the time off, and up until that point of my life, I hadn’t traveled much. The farthest west I’d ever been was Tampa, Florida, when I was 10 years old. ¶ Within 48 hours, we had rented a way-too-small Pontiac Sunfire, packed it to the gills, tossed every map we could find in the back seat and headed west. And a little south. And then west again. We meandered and explored along the route, stopping in…
