WAGONWHEEL WEDNESDAYS: INDIANA

Indiana's one of those states I've spent many hours in, but haven't really done anything of substance. It's always a place to drive through. On the two occasions I drove through central Indiana, it struck me as a pretty uneventful place. I believe I ate at a Chili's outside Indianapolis. Or maybe it was Outback. Indianapolis has a more impressive skyline than I expected. Now Southern Indiana is far from dull. It's actually one of the more terrifying places I've been in this country. Perhaps it was the hour (2AM) or the conditions (thick down comforters of fog) or what I was listening to on the radio (a reading of Stephen King's short story about a little boy and his monster grandma), but Southern Illinois is a horrifying place.

I'm pretty sure that my trepidation had nothing to do with the above mentioned factors. They didn't help, but what I saw would've scared me on a sunny day at noon listening to The Commodores. Not sure how many of you have been to huge truck stops in the middle of the country. If not, let me tell you about them. These places are massive. Usually there's three or four fast food places, a convenience store, a diner, showers, an arcade, and more. Sort of like the service stops on the east coast but much bigger. Some of the truck stops have fairly elaborate services catered to truckers. For instance, they have racks of books on tape and CD that a trucker can rent at one service stop and return at another one. Convenient, right? Sure, if you hate Blacks and Jews, because the only book I saw had a skinhead with a rebel flag on the cover. I'm sure there were plenty of Toni Morrison and Elie Wiesel books, but I tuned everything out except The Joys of Aryan Pride or whatever the fuck it was called. I'm wary of truckers as is. KKK truckers? Aw hell naw.

Oooh, something big just dawned on me. I've actually been to Northern Indiana too. When I took a train cross country. I remember stopping in Gary. I never got out. A lot's been written about Gary. Usually it's mentioned in the same breath as East St. Louis or Oakland. Not very flattering. I've met a few folks from Gary. Apparently the first thing most people ask them is if they know Michael Jackson and his brothers (and sister). They're from Gary, so I guess it's a fair question. People sometimes ask me if I know Will Smith or Betsy Ross or Rocky.

Indiana, my dear, I don't think I'll ever return to you unless the Eagles are playing a Superbowl at RCA dome. Don't get on my case. You owe it to my Jewish ancestors with your abundance of hate books.

REMINDER, THE QUIZ ENDS TOMORROW. ONLY TWO PEOPLE HAVE ENTERED TO WIN AN EVENING WITH HUGS.