The Road to Nowhere

The road to Nowhere is a real piece of work. I should know. I've been traveling between here and there for the past three decades. The only improvements to this lifeline to the outside world has been a constant plugging of pot holes and a few new road signs which warn drivers of the steep grades. Some years back, the folks from the state highway department found the drive so ridiculous that they had some fun with the warning signs. I happened by shortly after workers put up the new signs and grabbed a few pictures which in turn were featured in a national publication later. Nowhere got a little publicity out of the whole thing while passersby got a few chuckles. But the highway crew who created and posted the signs, most of whom live in or around Nowhere, discovered their humor didn't translate back at the state highway department back in Phoenix. The sign was ordered taken down. Somehow, that sign reappears twice a year for a few days hanging outside of Nowhere. Just long enough to get some transportation official's panties all in a bunch and a phone call to Nowhere's mayor's office. Our mayor doesn't get too uptight over pranks. Most likely 'cause he proudly proclaims each election time that he doesn't have time to put on underwear because he's too busy working for the people of Nowhere. Sam's been elected 12 straight times.

Life Is Good.