Recently I visited my brother in Albuquerque, a city whose name I wasn’t really sure how to spell until…just recently. I did take some photos with my serious camera, but I didn’t take too many because I was, you know, on vacation and all. But I did make good use of my iPhone.

Rather than endure airports and airplanes and all that nonsense, we decided to enjoy more of this grand nation by driving from the Mitten to the…uh…Big Square With A Growth. This would involve two days of driving rather than a few hours of flying, but it would also involve 100% fewer security checkpoints and significantly more personal space during the trip.

However, there was one significant drawback:

That’s when we started driving. That means I had to be out of bed when the time started with a 5 and ended with an a.m. That’s disgusting. I might dislike early mornings more than I dislike weddings. If you know me at all, you know that’s really saying something. If you’re not sleeping in the early morning hours, you’re doing it all wrong. I was doing it all wrong that morning.

The morning was uneventful, largely because I managed to spend several hours sleeping. When it was time for lunch, we happened upon some of the most refreshing refreshment known to man:

If you haven’t had A&W root beer in a frosty mug, you haven’t lived.

Some time later, we saw America’s largest magnet, on loan from Chuck Norris.

I don’t know what it’s stuck to, but it’s stuck there until Chuck Norris decides he wants it back.

Midway through Missouri, we stopped for gas at a truck stop in Cuba, MO. What does the truck stop in Cuba, MO sell?

That’s right: the truck stop in Cuba, MO sells cigars. They’re Cuban, but they’re not Cuban.

The truck stop also sold something very familiar to many of us from southeastern Michigan:

Those are Uncle Ray’s potato chips, straight from Detroit. I didn’t buy one to see if it came with free marijuana inside — seriously, click that link — but it was nice to see a Michigan product on the shelves.

We stopped for the night in Joplin. When we got on the road again (FAR TOO EARLY) the next morning, the world around us had vanished.

The world reappeared shortly after we crossed into Texas. That must mean something.

The rest of that day was uneventful until, at a gas station in Texas, I saw one of the wordiest warning signs ever created.

If you’re on a mobile device or something and the sign is too small to read, here’s the full text:

UNAUTHORIZED VEHICLES PARKED IN DESIGNATED ACCESSIBLE SPACES NOT DISPLAYING DISTINGUISHING PLACARDS OR SPECIAL LICENSE PLATES ISSUED FOR PERSONS WITH DISABILITIES WILL BE FINED MINIMUM $250

Many Blue Wheelchair Man signs don’t even have warning signs anymore, probably because nearly everybody knows what they mean. Even if they do have warning signs, they’re typically small signs that list the minimum fine associated with the offense. But this sign? Oh, this sign left nothing to chance, which is why the warning sign is larger than the Blue Wheelchair Man sign it’s accompanying!

In an effort to encourage efficient communication, I have a suggestion for a superior warning sign. Instead of using so many words, how about this brief but informative message:

NO PERMIT, NO PARKING
YOU PARK WITHOUT PERMIT, YOU PAY [amount]

If that’s still too long, here’s an even more succinct message:

NOT A CRIPPLE? PARK ELSEWHERE OR PAY UP

Anyway. That was the last photo-worthy sight I saw before we made it to Albuquerque that evening. The next post will feature pictures of snakes and rocks and other charming Southwestern things.