Forget Route 66: Get More on U.S. 54.

Okay, it's been several weeks months now since I spent 40 hours sitting on my ass driving two furry needy dogs from Phoenix to Kansas City AND back in my Honda Element, otherwise known as The Box of Death.  I can still feel the pain.  I mean, I love that car for hauling sh!t -- that's why I bought it, and it's great for that.  But it is basically a boxy BOX on a crap suspension with an underpowered 4-cylinder engine on four wheels.  So passing on the leetle highways is like pushing a piece of cardboard into a hurricane  (upside is the adrenaline from the near death experience keeps you awake after the first 10 hours or so), and the cabin noise just enhances the whole hurricane experience.  We'll get to the wind sweeping across the planes of Kansas and O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A  in a minute.

So on the way TO the big K.C., I noticed that all the gas station/Quick Stop/Food Mart retail extravaganzas along the way were LONG on junk/crap/sweet products and short on actual food.  No disrespect to Messirs Frito and Lay, but Baken-Ets and Cheetos Puffcorn don't really provide the same nutrition as an apple, or a banana, for example.  And I really shouldn't hate on Frito Lay's very fine products -- they actually use mostly potatoes, corn, oil, and salt, and don't add a bunch of bad weird things to their products.  I think the sweets are much worse than the savories, when it comes to junk food.  These gas station stores are really a Wonderland of Twinkies, Ding Dongs, Zingers, and questionable off-branded pastries wrapped up in super-crinkly clear cellophane packages.  (Man, I miss the days when I could have a Ho Ho or three.  And while I'm thinkin' about it, Hostess should really re-package them as "Ho Ho Ho's" for the holiday.  What great stocking stuffers:  "Look, Suzie!  Santa was here and he left you some Ho Ho Hos!"  And who wouldn't leave Santa some Ho Ho Hos instead of cookies? Really Hostess, if you don't do this and slap them into red and green wrappers you're missing out -- you're WAY behind the candy-coated holiday color-changing packaging curve.  [Okay, I just Googled "ho ho hos" and was shocked to get mostly "hos" dressed in sexy Santa outfits!  Ouch, I guess Hostess already knew that "hos" has a whole new meaning these days?!])  I decided to document the appalling display of bad nutritional choices brought to us by big agribusiness and the magic of unnatural colors, flavors and preservatives.  But I couldn't be bothered to stop and get my camera out on the way TO K.C., and I'd already missed some of the best stops, so I decided to try it on the way back to Phoenix.

The result was NOT totally what I was hoping for.  

First off, I couldn't find, or I somehow missed,

my favorite billboards that tell me, in four signs or less, that if I don't find JESUS NOW, I'm going to Hell.  What happened Kansas?  You disappoint.  I had to settle for a couple of MUCH less threatening signs without the warnings about the fiery eternity waiting for those who don't believe.

I'm almost embarrassed to post these boring exhortations to conform.  These guys are clearly just trying to help me.  Help me become more like them, so that they won't have to keep telling me what to believe or kill me.

Fortunately, I only stopped once or twice in KS. 

Speaking of which, I really enjoyed my first gas/snacky stop somewhere in KS.  Once I was able to exit the vehicle (seriously, this was not easy, because the wind was like a 20,000 on whatever that hurricane scale is), I found that I had stopped at "Mikey's," which is a gas station aka junk food retailer, AND a liquor store.  I like that they give you the option of going for junk food or liquor. What the heck, try both, right?

Just a small sampling of the "food"
conveniently available at Mikey's.

And, here I am showing you how windy
it is on the plains of Kansas.

Okay, I started this post sometime mid-December.  It is now 2012, and I give up!!!  I surrender -- the holidays have killed me and the year 2011, and I will never complete this blog.  But here's what I have left:

Nothin' but tumble weeds in Minneola.

And wind.  Lots of wind in Minneola too.

Tumble weeds waiting to break free, tumble across the highway in front of me, and smash into my grill.
Yes, they really do that.

Self explanatory, but I assure you, I only used the toilet, once the lady showed me how to open the door.

Also self-explanatory, but I totally had a cheeseburger and fries.

I gotta admit -- the whole photo editorial of junk food stops would have worked out better if I had been in a mood to actually stop and take photos.  But I wasn't -- I was in more of a "Let's just frickin' get there mood."  Which always seems to happen to me when I get in a car.  Sounds good at home.  Not so much on the road with two crazy dogs that need to poop on the frozen midwestern tundra.  So we stopped at my favorite LaQuinta in Albuquerque and...more of the same on day two.

Lola wigging out on dash of car, because...

As you can see, Connor was OUT of the car with Mommy.

But look how cute they are when we're all in the car.

 

From me (and most of my cousins) to you -- Happy Late, Late, Late Thanksgiving.

And that's it -- stick a fork in me, I'm finally done with this dang post.  Hope you had lots of turkey and no Baken-ets or Ho Ho Hos last Thanksgiving.  And that you didn't have to spend 44 hours in a Box of Death with two fur balls like I did.  But it's all good.

 Next up:  Christmas and New Year's in February.

 And then I have to find a way to end this blog and move on, since I've already lost the 10 lbs of squidge +.  Perhaps a blog where I rail against the lack of research into atopy.  That should be fun.  No?  Maybe we work on midlife muscles.  But I've said that before, haven't I?  But this time, I really MEAN it.  (Ho Ho Hos, I crack myself up.)