The driver said “Look, Indians!” and hit the brakes and jumped out of the car. Men thundered and yelled in towering plumes and capes.

“We’re only having this discussion because of the great retreat from individual choice, fiscal responsibility, and decentralized authority that has taken place in recent years.”

Somewhere along Route 61 in Missouri

Route 41, Florida

2:13am. McGuinness Ave, Brooklyn

You don’t want to punch the name of any of these towns into Google.

Chasing the sun out of Palm Springs, I flip on the radio.

I’m slapping enormous New Mexican bugs against my neck and talking into a bulletproof window.

The smell kicks me in the guts. When I step out of the car to double-over, a bulldozer comes to life.

Something about Bartlesville tells me that America is going to be alright.