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American Sideshow
Who needs reality TV when you can go to the truck stop?
I have a new life goal. I want to eat breakfast every morning at the new International House of Pancakes that just opened up at the truck stop.
I have to remind myself on a regular basis that not everyone has spent their entire lives within five minutes of not just one, but two truck stops.
I live near a highway cloverleaf (which means I went to Cloverleaf High School, a name that required little or no thought), which necessitates much servicing of big trucks and bigger men, plus the scores of travelers moving from one place to another in a nameless blur.
Is that a good thing?
I’m going to say “no” only because I know how much crime goes on in truck stops and how much pollution is concentrated in such a small area that would otherwise be a sleepy, peaceful wedge of rural America.
But if it weren’t for the truck stops, I’d have to drive 30 minutes to find a Starbucks (quelle horreur!). And now that there’s an IHOP, all sins are forgiven.
I don’t think people appreciate the lightning speed with which society as accepted, in a really big way, the prevalence of tattoos.
