Humor

The Corona Chronology: Day 38

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As has become a theme with several recent posts, I’m pulling this one out of the archives as a reminder that some of the things we think we miss during The Lockdown are perhaps not as miss-worthy as we imagine. This example? Leisure excursions. Some of the places we visit prove deeply troubling, as evidenced by this observational travelogue of yore…

 

10 Fascinating Exit Signs on Highway 20 in West Texas

 

1. White Flat Road

Really? They couldn’t think of anything else to name this thing? Granted, there are not a lot of inspiring natural landmarks around here (after all, the cows move around from time, causing locals to lose their bearings), but even the most unfocused, dust-coated civil engineer should have been able to come up with something better. Like “Squashed Armadillo Boulevard”, “Tumbleweed Terrace” or even “Unwashed Yokel Peeing by the Side of the Road Road”. Use some imagination, folks. Dream big.

2. Stink Creek Road

How can you put this address on a letter or an application and still feel good about yourself? I mean, if you were born on this little stretch of nothing, you might not realize that there’s a better life out there. But to purposely move here, or even look for an antique shop on this road, well, then you deserve whatever might happen in the dark of the night. (Fair warning: The cows have moved again, so you might not find you way back out.)

3. Old Lamesa Road

This implies that there must be a “new” Lamesa Road somewhere, but I sure didn’t see it. And what was wrong with the old one? Why was it necessary to build a new one that people can’t find? Are we supposed to just avoid Lamesa entirely, due to sordid and shocking past events? Was there an incident involving whiskey, ill-advised couplings, and accusations of livestock malfeasance? (For some reason, those three things instantly come to mind in certain parts of rural Texas. Maybe it’s all the blowing dust.). What the hell happened in Lamesa? So many questions, so many miles between exits to think about the possible answers.

4. Whorton Road

You know this road originally led to a collection of bordellos named Whoretown back in the day, but then the Baptists showed up and made people sanitize things, like they always do. Whoretown itself is now probably a Bible Camp run by born-again descendants of the original love-for-sale lady founders, with the town now rechristened “Jubilee” or “Jedediahville”, where they serve S’mores around the campfire instead of cooter.

5. Blackland Road

Three guesses on who used to live on this road when the creativity-impaired street-naming committee came stumbling into town. Because people were so subtle in the days of segregation and racist real-estate zoning decisions. Just ask the Native Americans.

6. Dick Ware Unit

Not making this up. This little exit supposedly takes you to some aspect of the local correctional facility, named after a guy that was probably a mayor or football star or really successful used-car salesman. Clearly, somebody wasn’t thinking when they made this naming decision. And still not thinking when they made a big-ass sign by the side of Highway 20, with a pointing arrow, not realizing what people would think. I’m sure the harlots from Whoretown were totally surprised by what they found after driving their horseless carriage down the exit ramp.

7. Noodle Dome Road

No idea. But if I had to guess, I’d surmise that Noodle Dome was a cousin of Dick Ware.

8. Haytor Road

Visions of Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter living in a cul-de-sac, handing out miniature hooded robes and “My First Gay-Bashing” primer kits on Halloween. Next, the Unholy Trinity attend PTA meetings where they remove the phrases “progress”, “independent thought” and “all men are created equal” from school textbooks. Then they go burn something.

9. Desdemona Boulevard

Wow. Is this a Shakespeare reference? Maybe. After all, the plotline of “Othello” involves poor choices, perceived infidelity, and murder, which are the exact things that can happen in West Texas if some fool makes the brazen decision to not attend the high-school football game on Friday night.

10. The George Bush Highway to Heaven between Midland and Odessa, TX

Okay, this one doesn’t actually exist (not yet, anyway) but it might as well. These people worship the Bushes. WOR-SHIP. There are giant billboards with Bush the First, Shrub the Last, and Laura the Ineffectual all over the place. Billboards. With bible scriptures, halos, and no black people. (Local restaurants have menu items like “The Obama Roadkill Pulled Pork Sandwich” and “Pulverized Pelosi Potato Salad”. Of course, the Lord’s Prayer is also on those menus. The definition of hypocrisy is not.)

This is not just a nexus of conservative thought, but something far beyond that. It’s a way of life, with strict rules and regulations. You must have Fox News playing in the background at all given times, lest you forget who you’re supposed to demonize today. If the police pull you over and there’s not a copy of George Bush’s “Talking Points” book somewhere in the vehicle, you’re probably going to jail.

And the traffic signals in town? The three colors are red, red, and red. Because yellow and green are too close to the socialist color of blue. And we can’t have that….

 

Previously published. Slight changes made for this post. I left in the dated political references, because those who forget history are… well, you know the rest…

Story behind the photo: A relatively benign snap from a rest stop on Highway 20. This photo is somewhat of a subterfuge, in that it belies the flatness that you are going to encounter for most of the journey on this highway. No wandering cows were harmed in the capturing of this image. Unless you count me, because I tripped over a land that time forgot and broke part of my soul…

 

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39 replies »

  1. I remember trips to visit the ex’s family is Southern Indiana, and our route took us through Amarillo. Just outside of Amarillo was a great big ol cross with Jesus billboard. A few years later, that billboard was advertising for people to come hang on the cross like Jesus did.

    We always drove very, very fast through Texas! My ex is Native American and I’m a blondish, blue-eyed, freckled white girl. Some might look down on us procreating.
    I “know” some fantastic people in Texas, but I wonder how y’all manage?

    I never thought I’d miss Dubya. I’d rather have him than the Orange Idjit and I really, really disliked Dubya. Both of them NOT elected by the people.

    Ok, going to bed, don’t wanna rant in your comments.😘

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    • First, never fear about ranting in my comments. I often rant in my posts, so I’m not bothered at all if the trend continues in the comments. And is a rant really a rant when you’re telling the truth? Methinks not.

      Road trips in Texas are stunning. You’re fine if you stay within the main areas of the major cities (and a few progressive pockets of decency here and there), but if you venture two feet into the “country”, which is 95% of this big-ass state, you are instantly transported back in time at least 100 years, often more. The ignorance and prejudice is overwhelming.

      I agree with your assessment of Dubya. (I actually call him “”Shrub”.) He was woefully incompetent, but at least he had some degree of humanity about him….

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  2. Here was I thinking that it was only here in Australia that topographical banality topped creativity around every corner, from Boggy Creek to Crack Pot to Stink Hole to Misery Knob to Jerking Creek to Fanny’s Waterhole and on they go. And don’t get me started on Main St, Bordertown, Government Road etc

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    • And we have “Farm to Market” roads here, as in FM 137 or FM 2A. There are roughly 67 billion of them meandering about in pointless directions, because the farms and markets are all gone. Why give a road a creative name when you can slap it with a meaningless, bureaucratic number? Sheesh.

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  6. i am always fascinated by place names and never end with being shocked and laughing. there is an intersection near me that is unbelievable, but i can’t even print it due to the current use of these words in the vernacular. how many times must people give directions to turn at the corner and get a stunned response? )

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  9. We’ve had long conversations about how similar Texas and Utah are, save for the drinkin’ in Texas. The ‘good’ beer (there is such a thing? Give me a margarita or give me death 😆 ) in Texas and the weak tea (and it actually might be tea ((decaffeinated you know)) beer in Utah. But naming long ass flat stretches of nothingness cutesy names is a thing (thang) both Texas and Utah share. Texas and Utah also have a rivalry over who is the reddest. Makes it right uncomfortable for folks like me who admire blue and look real shitty in red. In Salt Lake City there is a Martin Luther King Blvd though. I don’t know how that name crept by the town fathers (no wimmen you know, although one or two of the tougher “old broad” club have attained office). MLK Blvd probably got there because someone blue-ish gifted the base ball field with a LOT of money. The baseball field (3A or something) has changed names so often I think they’ve given up trying to put up signs, because next week, or in the next three days, the name will change. Again. I’m sure there is a Roadkill Road, a Skunk Flats, maybe a Nephi Street or Jediadiah The Mountain Man Highway or two out there as well. The mayors of Salt Lake City have their names plastered all over roads too. That idiot that bought an actual pump (which sits, rusting, out on the Salt Flats now), because we had the one flood in 1983 has had a deadly stretch of road christened after him. Y’haw y’all. Watch out fer them cows!!

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    • So many directions I could go with my response, but there really isn’t enough time to consider them all. Suffice it to say that most of the Overtly Red states follow the same gameplan: Carry on with the racism in most situations, but toss a meager bone to the minorities every once in a while so the racism doesn’t result in as many lawsuits. This is why most cities, even the reddest, have an MLK boulevard SOMEWHERE in the environs, but they are most often in the crappiest parts of town where the white folk usually don’t travel and won’t get incensed by the street signs…

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  10. Cooter? As I read that I was sitting in a clinic waiting room (checking on my bp). I snorted in muffled laughter, and people stared suspiciously at me (Does she have covid???). Now, Dickie boy. Should that be Dick’s Wares? Or, the Dick Wares? (the male harlots deserve a place too 😉 ) But my, so funny, Brian. 😀 You have brightened a day that’s already shaping up to be too busy. 🙂

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    • I still can’t fathom the reasoning behind the “Dick Ware Unit” exit. Was nobody thinking at all? Wait, my bad. This is Texas. Thinking is not a high priority. In fact, it’s discouraged. But christening a boulevard in a manner that pays homage to male bait and tackle? This explains a lot about the current political divide in America…

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    • Cooter? 😆 That brings back a lot of smutty jokes from my childhood. Told, in furtive whispers, where my parents couldn’t hear. Pops would have whaled (sp? wail isn’t right, wales is a country..Oh fergit it) on us, although I don’t think my mother would have cared.

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      • Whaled is the right spelling. There are some advantages to having learned English. 🙂 (French is my first language, although it’s English now.)
        Cooter is just too funny. Not a word you would hear in Canada and has hit my funny bone in a big way. 😀

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  11. I am unapologetically rude when it comes to “dubya” and his “dad-ya.”
    Dubya has always been referred to as “89.” Dadya was “91.” I’ll let you wonder why.
    Bwahahahaha!
    Cooter? I always thought I was the only one who called your cooter a cooter. We are talking about the female private bit…right? We have cooters and men have hooters. 🥴

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  13. By the way apart from your sarcastic way of writing and funny at the same time, how many day do you think were going to go? That´s the question. Maybe it gets to a point we go completely off the cliff, so nutty that we can´t even count the days anymore.

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  14. Those menu items (“The Obama Roadkill Pulled Pork Sandwich” and “Pulverized Pelosi Potato Salad”)… for reals? You’re just joking around. Please tell me you’re joking around.

    Some of the finer Arizona place names: Nowhere, Nothing, and Why.

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    • I did engage with some artistic license concerning the menu items, but I can assure you that it’s not out of the realm of possibility in the Midland/Odessa area of Texas. For several years during our sojourns to Partner’s family in that sector, there was an extremely racist scrawl of graffiti on a wall alongside Highway 20 between the two cities. It was finally painted over, but I can assure you that no officials in either city were involved in the covering. It was a brave citizen doing the right thing. And there’s a lot of sadness in that…

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