In the mid-70s I traveled as a factory rep for a heavy equipment manufacturer, Kansas, N Oklahoma, E. Colorado and parts of Nebraska. I always found myself driving on endless rural two lane black tops. To pass the time I would pop in a cassette of Iron Butterfly or Grand Funk Railroad and synchronize the passing telephone poles or fence post with the beat. Thank God for radar detectors.


Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats. H. L. Mencken