Bloggin' America

On the way to Iowa, we made a pit stop in Omaha for a long lunch. While Lincoln is the state capitol, Omaha has almost twice Lincoln’s population and probably that much more recognition nationwide. I hesitate to say that’s all because they host the College World Series every year. (I still don’t get that. Why is it a “world” series when only United States teams play?) Keep going...

Greetings, faithful readers, a.k.a. Trish. The latest long, hairy leg of the trip has taken us across the entire state of Nebraska and we’re safely in society once again. Welcome to Lincoln, Nebraska; population: 251,624-ish. Initial assessment: GREEN! As we were driving, the farther east we got, the greener the landscape became and Lincoln is like the Emerald City. Along the way we passed through an oasis of corn and soy fields dotted with charming white, two-story farm houses and adjoining silos. Keep going...

We woke up bright and early to get back into town. Word to the wise: covered wagons aren’t as comfortable as they look. I had to sit up front on the hard wooden bench seat with the driver and suffer the smell of old-fashioned exhaust fumes, if ya know what I mean. They must have fed the oxen our leftover beans and corn bread. Keep going...

The next morning I awoke to a red, irritated eye the size of a kiddie pool staring at me through the window above the sofa sleeper. It was attached to a huge, angry sand monster with long pointy teeth and a thrashing tail made of tumbleweeds and barbed wire. Just as I was about to shoot it with the laser blaster I had retrieved from under my pillow, I woke up. Keep going...

There’s nothing like a good ole’ fashioned brush with the law to get you excited about Nebraska. In fact, that might be the only thing that could get anyone excited about Nebraska. Whenever it comes up in conversation – you know, since that happens all the time – all anyone mentions is corn. Now there’s a great state motto: “Come for the corn. That’s all we got.” (Ironically, their official motto is “Equality before the law,” as Glenda pointed out with an eye roll while we sped past the state sign on I-80 at 102 mph. We had just finished telling her about Mac, too.) But looking out the window of the RV-turned-escape-car, I don’t see how in the dickens they could grow anything but dust mites here. It’s all dirt and tumbleweeds from what I can tell. Keep going...