Today, we drove the length of Nebraska, from Wyoming to Iowa and then on to Missouri. Almost all of the day’s drive was on I-80. We finished up listening to “The Whistling Season”, which we both enjoyed immensely. Due to AT&T’s
vulgarities vagaries in cell service, we couldn’t download our next audio selection. We were forced to turn to Pandora, which occasionally also cut out, but our audio selection was still light years ahead of what Anne, Jay and Suzy had to listen to, when they last traveled I-80 across Nebraska in the Seventies.
In quick rotation their catalog consisted of only two songs, Muhammad Ali’s one foray into musical recording, Black Superman, where he “floats like a butterfly, but stings like a bee” and Paul Anka’s There’s Nothing Stronger Than Our Love, which got shortened to There’s Nothing Stronger Than Olives. Today, we survived our medley of rainstorms, orange barrows and bad music and arrived safely at our hotel in the trendiest part of KC.
Apparently, Monday is a lull period, hence our cheap rate. We walked the plaza, shopped windows, wined and dined ourselves and then walked the two blocks back up to our hotel. Tomorrow, we get to sleep in our own bed and I for one am looking forward to it. It’s been a fun vacation, but it has also been a long one. I’m looking forward to getting home, at least for a little while.