Driving North

I don’t recognize anything.
Have I been on this road before?
Why does it look so different?
What the hell is that smell?
It isn’t even seventy degrees out.
It will be a great trip, if this smell goes away.
I hope we get to internet soon.
Is that commercial? Am I a sell out?
Listening to an oldies station that plays music from when I was in college.
You’re killing me, Mick.
You’re old now. I know.
You’re old because I’m younger.
Comparing; judging.
John reads signs for pot pharmacies.
What is the French word for Marijuana anyway?
God, there are a lot of pot pharmacies.
Are people in that much pain?
Halliburton – do you suppose Dick Cheney comes to Northern Michigan?
I don’t know. He looks like the penguin.
Everything is green under a sky of gray.
Maybe we’ll stop at a casino.
Wayne State University billboard in the middle of the trees.
Detroit is closer than you think.
Rich people have deeper front lawns;
More flowers.
Pass that truck. Where is it going on a Saturday anyway?
I don’t really want to buy anything but I want to look at the lawn ornaments and junk in the yards at all of the garage sales.
There’s a whole lot of oats in the fields.
Poor people in the county have a little land and no gardens.
They must live on dreams.
Cows with horns.
That joke always cracks me up
Half-baked money makers litter the country road.
It doesn’t make sense to me to live in a junkyard in the country.
People get tired before getting to their dreams.
Old Alba road is a dirt road.
Fast, straight away and we miss our turn.
Nothing about this trip reminds me of France.
Where the heck is the road?
Spinning tires; deaf child area.
Family to visit and food to eat.

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