The Open Road

A couple nights before, I nearly froze to death in Dodge Hill, the windiest city in America.  Last evening, I sojourned at a homeless shelter to escape the bitter cold, after a wind advisory was issued.  Though I am beholden to no one, I am thankful for the ecumenical efforts to provide overnight shelters to indigent transients.  Without such a place, I would be forced to suffer through another miserable night, an experience that I hope not to relive anytime soon.

I understand why homeless shelters are so popular.  They have decent food, entertainment, and toiletries.  In true American spirit, I had overabundance of pork chops, green beans, and an interesting white bean soup, providing me enough calories for the entire week.  It was a great reprieve from the canned food and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that I consumed during the past fortnight.

I just dropped off a homeless man at a truck stop and am currently waiting for my car door to be repaired.  A gust of wind forced the door to open at an angle beyond the normal range of motion, causing a gap while closed, and, whilst driving at higher speeds, makes noise reminiscent of a whistle that is as irritating as nails on the chalkboard.  I am lucky that repairs in Kansas are less than half of what they are in California.  Minimum wage can afford one a much better standard of living here – even a wheat harvester can afford his own dwelling.

Life in Kansas is satisfactory.  The countryside is beckoning me to stay a couple more days.  I just might oblige.

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