You know how...

sometimes you got nothin', and sometimes inspiration smothers you with its' omnipotent presence? Well, todays' drive was one of those inspirational days.

First... I think the state of Utah is onto something. You don't really need to fix something, if you just tell people about it.

I wrapped up my session this morning in Utah, drove into a nearby parking lot to change out of my slacks and nicely pressed program shirt into shorts and a t-shirt (hey... I'm a Southern California guy... I know it's not a phone booth, but then again, I'm not Superman.) (At least I changed in the car to prevent any phone calls to the nearest constable.) But I meander. Once on Interstate 15 headed toward Vegas, I set the cruise control at a comfortable cruising speed precisely 7 mph over the 75 mile per hour speed limit. Most cops give you some kind of leeway on the posted speed limit. My personal thinking states that anything less than 10 percent over the said limit defies a ticket. This would get me into Sin City in about 5 hours. (Now you're starting to see why it takes me so long to write anything... it's all this other stuff that gets in the way...)

In any case, I'm just cruising along, minding my own business when I see the following sign on the side of the road:

Bump
1500 feet

Then, sure enough, a short time later there was a bump much harsher than one would reasonably expect to find on a major interstate thoroughfare. One which, when hit at 82 MPH, exercised the suspension significantly more than one typically experiences on the United States Interstate Freeway system.

Now, one could argue I suppose, that it might be prudent to slow down upon sighting such a sign. My thought, though, takes a different direction. "WHY DON'T THEY FIX THE ROAD!"

But then I thought, "You know, I think they're on to something here".

Just think... when driving along a well traveled boulevard in town, the sign could read:

Relatively Large Pothole
1000 Feet

Or in a residential neighbourhood:

Beware Sinkhole
500 Feet

Certainly, signs come cheaper than repairs, so the populace would be writing letters of thanks to elected officials for more judicious use of their tax dollars.

And my audio book had already reached its' conclusion, so I resorted to over the air radio. If you're ever near Salt Lake City, tune in 97.5 FM for 24/7 Christmas Music. I know niche programming creates optimal advertising, but gimme a break! The further I got, the fewer stations I could receive. At one point I actually heard, on a dreaded "Soft Rock" station "Boogie, Oogie, Oogie". I'm sure that I danced to this in my past, but it was, what, 20-30 years ago? But then, scanning the dial, on a dinosaur rock station I heard a song that I must plug into Pandora: Lowrider. I can't wait to hear what it comes up with.

Not having seen many state troopers yet, I saw one head northbound on 15. Then a few miles later, I saw another. Generally, when much real estate needs to be covered, rarely do you see patrol cars that close to each other. So... it's gotta be safe right? A few miles after that, also northbound, I see an unmarked, grey Dodge Charger with some unsuspecting soul pulled over to the side of the road. (Although I would have been less surprised to see a southbound traveler inconvenienced so.)

Then a few miles later, a woman passes me in her cabriolet Porsche Carrera S4, doing around 90. Hmmmmm... a breaker... So I let her get about a half mile ahead, and fall in behind. She got me about 80 or 90 miles down the road before she pulled off in Beaver, Utah. Back to 82.

Also, before I left Utah, I saw a sign for Toquerville. Must be the kid in me, but all I could see was "Toker-ville". Not that I would have any personal (historical) knowledge of what a toker might be.

Then, as I completed my days' journey, having driven through three states this day (Utah, Arizona and Nevada), I realized the majority of my mileage has accrued. Slightly over 3600 miles in about 3 1/2 weeks.

I'll have a final report for you in a couple days.