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Statue in Enid, Oklahoma

Statue in Enid, Oklahoma

When we got up that morning we decided to partake of the motel’s free continental breakfast.Once more I wondered about the breakfast habits of people on the continent. Perhaps I should research continental breakfasts. Would I learn that it was  just some sort of mocking ritual about our independence from European overlords that has gone horribly wrong? Or is it, perhaps, just a sign that I need more caffeine in my system? Hmmm.

We packed the car and set out north and west to drive through the Oklahoma panhandle. As we were leaving Stillwater however, I was struck by the messages of two billboards on opposite sides of the street. The one on the left read THERE IS EVIDENCE OF GOD. On the right side of the road was a sign that read CATFISH HEAVEN. I wasn’t sure if I should take these signs as one message, dueling messages, a coincidence, or a cosmic joke. I’ll let you decide for yourself.

I took today’s picture as we paused at a stop light in Enid, Oklahoma.  I didn’t have time to jump out of the car and see the title of the statue, but a subsequent search on Google has told me that it is called The Homesteaders and it is by Harold T Holden. It honors the people who took part in the Cherokee Strip land rush, I’m not sure how members of the Cherokee nation feel about this statue.

Heading further west we reached Guymon, Oklahoma. And now I must make a confession, I know that there is something blog worthy about Guymon, but I can’t remember what it is. I also failed to make a note of it in my notebook because I felt that it was so memorable that I would never forget. I forgot.

So on we went until we left Oklahoma; a goal that we had. We stopped in Clayton, New Mexico for the night. After we got a motel room we drove into downtown Clayton to eat in the restaurant in the Eklund Hotel. Much to our delight, there was an open mike for singers. We didn’t plan to sing, but there were others there with their guitars. The fellow who was on the stage when we arrived was singing songs by Steve Goodman and John Prine. Those two came out of the Chicago folk music scene which was big when I was a younger man, and I still frequently listen to their albums. Cindy and I were very happy. He went on to sing a few more songs and then turned the mike over to a tall, skinny man who wore a cowboy hat, boots, and a vest over his cowboy shirt. He sang cowboy songs that he had written. Based on his performance, I would say that cowboys are a morose lot. We left when we finished our meals. Mine had been the worst chicken fried steak that I have ever encountered. But the entertainment was good.

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