These are some of the landmarks that you might have missed during the last 1,084 miles of Harold’s journey to greater south central Texas. Through approximately thirty-six quarts of reprocessed motor oil, ninety-two gallons of petrol, thirty-nine cans of Happy Time Root Beer, a quart of Milk-o Magnesia®, a couple of pair of underwear, chips, CheeZits and other assorted truck-stop fare mixed with the smell of plain yogurt that had been festering in the airy trunk, Harold was almost at the brink of grasping the Holy Grail…The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show inside the college dorm lounge.  Another 43 miles of these antiquated tin-horn villages with broken down building frames, rusted-out water pumps, droopy-eared animals and farm folk, apocalypse-driven churches and pavement that smelled of burnt low-grade tar. Just as he departed the town of Thorndale, traveling west-southwest upon Highway 79, he caught a glimpse of another one of those roadside hand-painted billboards nestled in between the barb-wired fence and some Johnson grass.

Ray-Bea’s Sip-n-Sup
Home of Central Texas’ Finest Root Beer Floats!
Just ask for The Brown Cow Lick.
They are Froth-o-licious…!

Turn Right on Hwy 95 in Taylor, then 5 miles North…
Located in downtown Circleville
‘Don’t be a DUMMY…It’s

     “Yummy, indeed,” Harold consoled his bubbling stomach, “something nutritional for a change.” Having trouble in trying to focus on his driving due to the lack of sleep for the past twenty-nine hours, the lack of anything resembling actual food and the lack of cognitive plausibility, his mind began to wander like his misaligned ’57 Chevy.
     “So near,” he mumbled all creamy-eyed, “yet, so far…so far…so far…so far…so far…so far…” You could actually hear the skip emanating from his brain.

***NOTE:   Some of the more notable historical markers that might have been missed, because of      Harold’s inability to discern objects through his automobile’s debris laden front window and coagulated mildew-gummed window washer (concocted from his uncle’s garage woodshop and welding center), are:

Needmore, Indiana; Oolitic, Indiana; Bedford (Falls), Indiana (“Hee-Haw!”); Loogootee, Indiana; Dale, Indiana, with an exit for Santa Claus – 7 miles; Boonville, Indiana (among a hosts of other landmarks with two o’s in the name, because the hunters of Hoosier lore were the first to use binoculars; therefore, having this influence on the local lexicon of literal language text: o-o) [Ourp!]; Mattoon, Kentucky (inbred relatives); Paducah, Kentucky (and the beginning of the gut-wrenching tribulations of paying road tolls, in which Harold’s father had previously warned him about and subsequently filled a brown paper liquor bag full of slugs from the pool hall vending machines; therefore, providing the state enough raw metal to construct another toll booth); Future City, Kentucky (which was where Epcot Center was originally planned to be constructed so these hinterlands would be proliferated by millions of cosmopolitan vagabonds); Moscow, Kentucky (now this is what you call an ‘oxymoron’); Tiptonville, Tennessee; Frisbee, Missouri; Piggott, Arkansas; Marmaduke, Arkansas; Weiner, Arkansas; Stuttgart, Arkansas (with a statue erected posthumously in the town park for Col. Klink…”Ya’vol”); Altheimer, Arkansas; Ogemaw, Arkansas; (where’s) Waldo, Arkansas; Lone Star, Texas (no kidding); Big Sandy, Texas; Noonday, Texas; Buffalo, Texas; Easterly, Texas (even though Harold was driving westerly); Gause, Texas; and last, but not least…Jollyville.

(Wait a second! Jollyville’s not even in that area!)

(Yes it is! It’s 10 miles north by northwest of Austin, Texas. See?)

(Let me guess. The city council members of Jollyville paid you to place them in this epic so they’d get some sort of recognition and publicity, which leads to thousands of people to travel unlimited miles to come and see another dance rendition of the native Krotch-Garabb Indians do their ‘Skip-to-Da’Loo, My Darlin’’ monkey show. Right?)


(Oh, well. In that case, let the show go on!)


End: Chap. 21