Trip to deepest, darkest Henrietta........

—1) REPUBLICAN ALERT!
Just north of our house is what used to be a four-way intersection; except the state, in its infinite wisdom, regraded it so the turn was continuous — i.e. a continuous highway. Route 65 was turning right southbound (or left northbound) at that intersection. The other streets were made stop.
So here I am in our CR-V placidly approaching the turn heading north with my left-turn signal on — I always signal, so anyone in a side-street knows my intent (it’s an old motorcycle gig).
One of those ancient plastic-bodied FWD Chevy minivans is approaching the intersection on a side-street, and has its left-turn signal on. It looks faded and moldy.
He’s planning to turn south onto 65.
I’m clearly in view, slowed to about 30 mph to make the turn.
Suddenly the minivan lurches out in front of me — I have to hit the brakes.
Sorry, chillen. I don’t pay that much attention any more, but he sure drove like a Dubya-supporter.

—2) HMMMMMMMNNNNNN!
All I’m buying at the Funky Food Market is a case of grape-juice, which happens to be organical.
I get Angie as my checkout — extraordinarily cute except for the tons of eye-shadow, and the Statue of Liberty tattooed on her left arm from shoulder to elbow.

—3) COMPUSA CLOSED!
After hitting the Funky Food Market, and the Californy Weggers, I drive down to the shopping-plaza where CompUSA was located; intent being to buy ‘pyooter-paper and ink cartridges.
Surprise-surprise! The parking-lot is empty and mighty CompUSA has tanked; or moved.
I’m not surprised. Circuit City moved too. Circuit City was our ‘pyooter supply, until they moved, and I found CompUSA across the street.
So I walked back to our CR-V, planning the buy ‘pyooter-paper at Weggers and order my cartridges through the Epson site online.
I notice an Office-Max across the street, and despite being a stupid dunce, and air-headed, and set in my ways, I decide to try it. VIOLA; I walk out with my ‘pyooter-paper and the two ink-cartridges I need.

—4) THE MIGHTY CURVE!
Since it’s about 60 degrees, I’m wearing my Mighty-Curve jacket instead of my new red down jacket, which the bluster-boy noisily claimed was my long-gone “parker.”
A little old man is the single checkout at Office-Max, and notices my Mighty-Curve jacket.
“Best railfan spot I’ve ever been to. Been there hundreds of times. Google ‘Horseshoe Curve,’ and I think it’s railroadcity.com, or something like that. That’s the one ya want. Fire up that, and ya’ll see a buncha links on the right side. One is the web-cam. It’s awful, but I have it on all the time.”
That dreaded jacket has started hundreds of conversations, as has the Ducati-patch. I even talked up the Curve at Cajon! (In Californy.)

—5) VALERIO AGAIN!
The CR-V is about out of gas coming back.
But I pass the mighty Rush Valerio returning. So I patronized. $3.40.9 per gallon.

“Deepest, darkest Henrietta” is a rather effusive and obnoxious suburb south of Rochester.

“Route 65” is New York State Route 65. We live on Route 65.

“Weggers” is Wegmans, a large supermarket-chain based in Rochester we often buy groceries at. “Californy Weggers” because the whole area it’s in looks like southern California — utter desolation.

“The CR-V” is our 2003 Honda CR-V SUV.

“Dubya-supporter” is a George W. Bush supporter. All insane traffic-moves seem to involve Bush-supporters. They seem to think they have the right.

“The funky food-market” is Lori’s Natural Foods, south of Rochester in Henrietta — a source for salt-free cereal, sauce, etc.

My all-knowing macho blowhard brother-in-Boston, tells me I’m “a stupid dunce, and air-headed, and set in my ways;” i.e. utterly incapable of hitting an alternative shopping-site on the fly.

Horseshoe Curve (the “mighty Curve”), west of Altoona, Pennsylvania, is by far the BEST railfan spot I have ever been to. Horseshoe Curve is a national historic site. It was a trick used by the Pennsylvania Railroad to get over the Allegheny mountains without steep grades. Horseshoe Curve was opened in 1854, and is still in use. (I am a railfan.)

“The bluster-boy” is my all-knowing, blowhard brother-in-Boston, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say. He once noisily insisted my red parka was a “parker.”

RE: “As has the Ducati-patch.......” —I once had a Ducati motorcycle, and still consider it the one I never should have sold. I had a denim jacket that had a large Ducati-patch sewed on the back.

“Cajon” Pass (“Ka-HONE”) near Los Angeles is another railfan pilgrimage spot I have been to twice. It’s the mountain pass out of the Los Angeles basin up into the High Desert. It was originally used by the Santa Fe Railroad (now Burlington Northern Santa Fe). Southern Pacific (now Union Pacific) built a railroad through the pass about 1967. BNSF now carries a HUGE amount of traffic over the pass, since it’s their main route to the LA area. They recently added a third track.

“Valerio” is Valero; my younger brother-in-Delaware is a supervisor at their Delaware oil-refinery. “Rush” is a nearby town I pass through returning home from Henrietta.