Please Help to Save the Poor Triceratops from Re-Extinction in Arizona!

I know what you're thinking. When is this guy going to stop writing
about billboards and roadkill? Well, not in Arizona, that's for sure.
Arizona boasts some of the most, let's say, creative advertising to
get travelers to stop and purchase authentic Indian jewelry 40% off.
I drove through this strip of Americana with my family back when I was
10 and, since then, the billboards don't seem to have been so much
upgraded as just embellished. Dinosaurs are a big theme east of
Flagstaff because, I guess, the Petrified Forest is here and petrified
kind of rhymes with fossilized, and, well, DINOSAURS! It starts with
childlike paintings of prehistoric reptiles mingling with the
childlike (and kind of unfortunate) drawings of Native Americans,
morphs into large, rudimentary replicas of dinosaurs that resemble
Barney's distant cousins, before culminating in enormous, realistic
statues of the ancient beasts--and here is my problem...the
triceratops is always on the ground being shredded like a Texas
roadside deer, not by a passing automobile, but by a frighteningly
authentic looking Tyrannosaurus Rex. Arizonans clearly have no regard
for the loss of their plaster Triceratops population to what seems to
me to be a veritable plague of toothy Rex's. Now, for me, the violent
death and dismemberment of a fake dinosaur won't get me to purchase
authentic Indian jewelry 40% off--but, of course, that's just me...

Aside from the overly obnoxious 70s era kitschy billboards, Arizona,
like its neighbor New Mexico, is incredibly beautiful. The sunset
tonight reminded me of melting into someone's eyes. California here
we come...

Well I'll Be Quirky--Welcome to Albuquerque

New Mexico was a breath of fresh air after our drive through the
heartland--and not just because the landscape becomes almost
immediately more interesting; it, literally, smells better because of
a conspicuous lack of roadkill. I can only think of a couple of
reasons for this. Either, a.) the animals in Oklahoma, Texas, et al,
are throwing themselves under the wheels of speeding cars on purpose
(and, let's be honest, who can blame them) or, b.) New Mexico has some
crack agency like a department of roadkill cleanup that swoops in and
removes offending smears before the tourists spot them. There are, on
the other hand, an inordinate amount of roadside memorials dedicated
to people who've died on the interstate. Fewer dead animals yet more
dead humans--hmmm...I'm not suggesting Wile E. Coyote is behind it,
just that it's a possibility.

We pulled into Albuquerque early enough to get some r & r in; which,
thanks to some insider information from Cindy (thanks Cindy!), we did
at a place called The Flying Star Cafe in the Nob Hill area. You may
remember me mentioning our great breakfast at The Flying Biscuit in
Atlanta, well I've decided from now on I'm only eating at restaurants
with "flying" in the name (tough luck Taco Bell--I'll be back when you
change your name to Flying Taco Bell). The place was awesome--a super-
cool atmosphere packed with velour-backed booths, swell southwestern
pastel colors, and a variety of hipsters in horn-rimmed glasses and
college students banging away on their MacBooks. After our roadside
religious indoctrination in Arkansas, this place really was heaven.
We liked it so much we went again for breakfast. Albuquerque is one
of those places I visit and think, "I could live here" (until I
stepped outside and realized it was around 4 degrees Fahrenheit in the
sun). It's a beautiful city in the middle of a beautiful state; one
boasting grand arroyos, spectacular mesas, and those big rocks
balancing on the skinny rocks that the Roadrunner taunts Wile E.
Coyote from (betcha didn't think I could sneak Wile E. Coyote in twice
in one post, did ya?). We just crossed the border into Arizona...more
to come from the Grand Canyon State...

Driving into the Sun

Wow, New Mexico is stunning...more tomorrow.

Everything Really is Bigger in Texas!

We just tore through 4 states like we were a five year-old shredding the gift wrap on a present on Christmas morning (or, as I like to call it, "Holiday morning"). The past 2 days were all about making time so we could slow down in time to enjoy the Southwest before heading up through California and into Oregon. Texas was the final state on our get-the-hell-through-this-state-as-fast-as-possible tour. I thought it was all just bravado--a bunch of cowboys bragging about the size of everything in their state because they were overcompensating for their lack of, well, you know...but, you know what, it's true--everything is bigger in Texas! We saw the biggest, gaudiest rest area I've ever seen*, something advertised as the largest cross in the western hemisphere (although it struck me as a little macabre--I mean, I hardly think, say, Marie Antoinette would be looking down from heaven and nodding approvingly at a giant MDF guillotine--but, hey, different strokes), the biggest douche-bag of a president the U.S. has ever had, and, thanks to a couple of tire-tracked deer carcasses, they even beat out Tennessee for biggest roadkill. Way to go Texas! You should be proud. I'm so ready for New Mexico.

*Actually the rest area, enormous as it was, was pretty cool and had some interesting information about wind power, canyons, and buffalo lineage. See, I can give credit where credit is due!

Oklahoma is eh

After we escaped from Arkansas (you know you're in the bible belt when
the churches are bigger than the Home Depot) we drove through eastern
Oklahoma in the dark--not realizing we were seeing the exact same
landscape we would have seen during the day. Oklahoma is a vast
landscape of flat emptiness, devoid of anything interesting save the
shredded plastic grocery bags lining the countless miles of barbed
wire fences. We did, however, have a stroke of luck with a motel in
Oklahoma City. It turns out that, since the ice storms last week,
many of the residents are living in motels. On our third attempt to
find a room we struck gold at a Holiday Inn Express--they gave us
their last room; one with 2 queen beds at a deep discount and the
cutie at the front desk even helped us to locate a parking space for
the trailer. We got a good night's sleep, worked out in the fitness
center, ate a decent continental breakfast, and struck out into the
void...did I mention there is nothing to see in Oklahoma? Even the
cows didn't seem satisfied chewing their cud. We couldn't even find
adventure when we went looking for it. Both Route 66 museums we
stopped at in western OK were closed. This state would be a good
place for a nap. Next up is Texas...

Happy Times in Oklahoma City

Ah, sunshine...starting our drive to Albuquerque.

The Bible Belt Tightens: Juggling Jesus and Jenna Jameson in Arkansas

We took off from Nashville around 8:30 a.m. and drove through West Tennessee in a blinding rain. Today was a driving day, as we decided to save our sightseeing for the Southwest and push through all of Arkansas and half of Oklahoma before stopping in OK City for the night. Boy, Arkansas loves its God. Not since the lady at the welcome center in Tennessee tried to convince us of the miracle of Christmas had I witnessed Southern Baptism in its full glory. But if Tennessee Welcome Center Lady was the face of New Testament peace and love, Arkansas' billboards were Old Testament, smiting God stuff. Consider the following message on one of the many billboards lining I40 in Arkansas:

Use a rod on your children and save their lives: Jesus Saves.

Make up your mind; Is it the rod or is it Jesus? That particular billboard made me a little nervous so it wasn't until we drove past another billboard advertising X - Adult Superstore that I was able to relax. Arkansasans can hold two opposing views in their minds after all--whew, what a relief! Since we pretty much just drove, I don't have much else to report except I noticed a difference in the roadkill between Tennessee and Arkansas. Tennessee seemed to have a lot more large animals splayed down the fog strip--coyotes, deer and such, and, strangely, large birds. Arkansas, however, seemed to have predominately smaller varmints' guts littering the shoulder. I'm not sure what this means yet, but I'm tired so I think I'll sleep on it. Next--Oklahoma is just OK...