And Now I Will Entertain You With Toilet Paper (Murder On The Interstate)

Told you I would use that as my next title.

There's something about you, Boy, that makes me sweat (bullets). What can I say about Quanah, Texas that hasn't already been said (by complaining boys and girls north or southbound on 287)? Just be sure to allow yourself at least three hours to take it all in; makes you appreciate how all the little things are, like the crackling plains sporting lonely trees bowing to the applause of invisible gale force straight lines or lightening threats spinning silver tongues or medicine mounds that will remain a nine mile mystery. I must be crazy, or looking for an early grave, to sign up for this again: road trips and parenthood and love. But when this mean world casts its baited hook, you'll be glad you're not an orphan and that you have someone on the shore to reel you back to real and someone who cares enough to fold your clothes and pick you up a pecan cinnamon roll which you really, really don't deserve. Lucky for all of us, life's not fair and daylight never remembers last night's transgressions and I hold a lot of things, like sick babies and immature fears, but never a grudge.

But it doesn't feel good to be the only one catching.