The business concern pictured above is located directly across the street from my motel.  Compose your own jokes about how the installation crew might dress and act. Just the sight of the sign glowing blue-ly in the muggy dark made me smile. With all good fortune, by the time you read this I will have pointed the diesel southbound toward Wichita. Enroute, I plan to eat some turkey jerky. No special reason, except I like to turn the bag over when I’m far from home and see that it was made in Minong, Wisconsin, site of the hardest hit I ever received in a high school football game. Left defensive end, rolling out to contain the quarterback option when someone popped me in the face so hard I just rolled and rolled. There were hills and valleys on the Minong football field, this added texture to the experience. When I came to rest on my tailbone pad I recall bright lights above and a stinging lump on my lower lip. Hardest hit ever in a game, but not overall. That was during practice. Clay North. Helmet-to-helmet and such a crack that I could feel my sulci part. Now: Where are my car keys?

P.S., today I signed books for two very pleasant residents of Sweden. I showed off by saying “Come Here!” in Swedish.  Learned it from a Swedish policeman summoning a drunk off a train in the middle of the night one summer in 1989. Safe travels, Swedish people! 

P.P.S. I now have it on good authority that Swedish chickens say “Pock! Pock!”  (I may have omitted key umlauts.) 

P.P.P.S. The best umlauts are these.

Stops on the second leg of the tour, thus far:

View Michael Perry’s COOP book tour: Part II in a larger map

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