Fiddly dee.   Fiddly dum.   Where is it?   Where is it??   Where is that soapbox when I need it?   Hey, Slow, have you seen my soapbox lately?   The poor old thing is so tired she can’t even remember who wrote To Kill a Mockingbird tonight.   She had to call Pretty and of course, Pretty told her Harper Lee.   We left Worsham Street at the crack of pre-dawn this morning and drove and drove and drove and finally limped in to a Comfort Inn in Evergreen, Alabama, which is near Monroeville, the home of Harper Lee and Truman Capote.   Well, the old woman kept saying I know it’s Truman Capote’s home and whoever wrote TKAM.   How many times did I hear her utter why can’t I think of that woman’s name and why didn’t she ever write anything else and on and on ad infinitum.   Which means an interminable length of time which brings me to my soapbox that I desperately need whenever my mind is reeling.

 Peeps and their pigskins, politics, preaching and psychotherapy.   Now, what in the world do you suppose these assorted “P’s” have in common?   Whoever answered Talk Radio wins the prize.   Can I tell you something?   If Moses had had to listen to Talk Radio when he began leading The Chosen Peeps out of Egypt, he wouldn’t have lasted forty hours, not to mention forty years!   I have to blame something for this assault on my senses today, and I think I’ll blame the state of Lucy Anna.   Yep, it took us over three hours to drive from Montgomery to the Sabine River and cross over to Lucy Anna and by that time, Slow and I were over each other.   Slow appeared to be desperate for entertainment and turned on the radio in an attempt to make the trip go faster.   Huge mistake.

Peeps talked and talked and talked some more.  Ugh.  I kept thinking  Turn it off, you daffy old twit!   I can’t BELIEVE we’re listening to this crap and I want you to turn it off right now!!   But, no such luck.   We listened all the way from Lake Charles to Slidell before Slow finally pushed the little black knob to the off position.   I heard things that could curl my fur, let me tell you.   I’m not sure who The Mad Hatter is, but plenty of Peeps were wondering if he’s staying at a place called El Ass You or if he’s moving to Missing Gun.   Yep, that was a Big Deal today in Lucy Anna.

And speaking of guns, this is where I need to insert Would Be Standing on Soapbox Now If I Could Find It.    From all I can tell, there’s been a terrible Peep tragedy in a far away state and no one can figure out what caused it, but one man on the radio this morning hollered and carried on like a Big Bully who knew all the answers to any possible questions about it.  He kept bellowing about liberal media this and blah blah blah that.  His face must have been the color of my name.    Sigh.   This makes The Red Man very sad because I think the Peeps are in for some Real Trouble.   Here’s the problem as I see it.   Nobody listens any more.   Not really.   Everybody’s so busy talkin’ on the radio and tv and telephones and computers and God knows what all that nobody has time to listen, much less THINK before saying anything.   Maybe, just maybe, if the Peeps made a little extra effort to understand each other, they wouldn’t be so interested in shooting each other, if you catch my drift.   They might even figure out that they actually LIKE each other.   End of soapbox.

Well, when we made it to the AliBaba state line, we stopped at the Welcome Center which offered me an attractive spot for a much-needed whiz.   Naturally, Slow the Ansel Adams of cell phone photography snapped a picture of the Lunar Lander that was a focal point for the visitor center and you will all be pleased to know that I refrained from pissing on such an impressive piece of history.   I mean, it ain’t right to piss on something that’s been to outer space and back.   Even I have my limits.

Tomorrow morning we’ll saddle up the Dodge Dakota and make our way to the frigid snow-covered South.   Geez.   Shit house mouse.  

Thank God we have two beds in this motel tonight.   I need to give mine a try and call it a night.

Adios, Sports Fans – hope all the War Eagles have a safe trip home, too – I’ve seen their flags flying proudly in cars on both sides of the interstates today – happy for you!!

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