The quiet streets that seemed to always be the same. Then the noise was the same. Cars whirring past and an occasional truck. You could be anywhere in the world. The only thing missing was culture. You needed to afford it. That was the rub. Everyone rustling about. Then for whatever reason you had the money but no culture. You built more roads and people kept chasing a dollar. Weren’t they just snobs? Wouldn’t you love to know. More roads. Bigger roads. Truck stop. Bacon. So much bacon and eggs. Weren’t they just slobs? Wouldn’t you like to know. I am hitting the road now. Driving. Did I just see a chamber orchestra at the truck stop? You did. They just had bacon and eggs.