I took a stroll down the street a few minutes ago just to relax and take in some fresh air. While on my walk, I observed a rather shaggy young man peddling along on a bicycle. He was wearing a backpack and looked to be a legitimate part of the counterculture on which so much of Portland's liberal persona is based. No sooner had the young man on the bicycle passed by when a Hummer with tinted windows came roaring up the street and had to come to a near stop behind the bicyclist. Instead of passing the slower bike, which had every right to be there, the driver of the Hummer blasted his horn in rage and frustration. The bicyclist politely moved to the sidewalk.
For a moment I had the briefest of visions of what a Trump-Sanders presidential election would look like!
Upon re-entering my hotel, I stopped at the front desk to get change. There, behind the counter, I noticed a sign that I had missed earlier. It said in bold letters, along with a graphic, "No Marijuana." I assume that it meant smoking pot was not allowed on the premises, but it could have also been a notice that the front desk was temporarily out of stock. Whatever the specific issue, I trust that President Rand Paul will fix it on day one.
West Plains is going to seem mighty mundane after my jaunt to the other side of the moon!