mental indigestion

R is for Route 66 April 21, 2016

Filed under: A-Z Challenge — mel @ 9:00 am
Tags: , ,

If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway that’s best.
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

It winds from Chicago to LA,
More than two thousand miles all the way.
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

Now you go through Saint Louis
Joplin, Missouri,
And Oklahoma City is mighty pretty.
You’ll see Amarillo,
Gallup, New Mexico,
Flagstaff, Arizona.
Don’t forget Winona,
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernandino.

Won’t you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

Won’t you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that California trip
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six.

I once went on Route 66 from Missouri to Arizona for Alternative Spring Break with the most disparate group of white people who spoke to me very slowly thinking my English wasn’t good.

Guy was a frat boy with socialist leanings and told me he wanted to backpack around Southeast Asia one day and live in Bangkok for a few years as a musician.

Ben was a farmer boy who loved cow-tipping and played Disney techno music when it was his turn to drive.

Scott was in the school’s football team and talked a lot about protein shakes.

Lisa was Scott’s girlfriend who made sure no other girl could talk to Scott.

Julie was against most chemicals and made a personal decision to bathe only once a month.

Laura thought my bleached blonde streaks of hair were natural and asked me if that ran in the family.

In Joplin Missouri, Ben was dance-driving to a revved-up version of Beauty and the Beast as the girls laughed. “Disney is my happy place,” he declared. Guy brought up Disney Illuminati conspiracy theories. Did you know Little Mermaid’s underwater castle has a tower the shape of a penis?

“Why don’t you just burn the American flag while you’re at it, huh Guy? Do you want to take this outside?” said Ben. My crush on him diminished exponentially after that.

Julie bought a lot of processed food at petrol station stops. She loved Cheetos. At one petrol station in Texas, I gaped at a lady in a thick white fur coat and stiletto white leather boots buying bottled water. “I won’t be surprised if she wasn’t wearing anything under that coat. Lots of rich trash here,” Guy whispered.

Supermarketing in an Arizonian countryside town: many, many different types of chili. I wish I could have bought them to add to scrambled eggs but instead ingredients are bought for grilled cheese sandwiches and pasta meals with lots of potato chips and soft drinks. I wrote and send out a postcard to a friend back home and Laura couldn’t stop laughing when I wrote “USA” at the end of the return address. I don’t think she’s ever sent international mail.

The desert sky is beautiful both day and night. In the day, the clouds are wispy, like they decided to express themselves as little squiggles as an afterthought. At night, the stars sparkle in full radiance, unhindered without all the urban layers of distraction.


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