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O Solo Mio
She rolled the windows up, cranked the volume up to eleven, laid her seat back, and closed her eyes, lost in the moment.
September 19, 2019
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I needed a cup of Joe to keep me homeward bound. I stopped in this tiny town and am at the only place in town, having good coffee and talking with the old timers. I love this stuff.
“Frosty” is talking about his trucks and Dick gave me some sage advice as he struggled to stand with his cane and the help of his granddaughter: “don’t have a stroke.”
Coffee was a little pricey, though. Charged me a dollar for two cups and I had to help myself.
I’m thinking if I sit here long enough it’ll be happy hour and I’ll only have to pay fifty cents!
I'm just a guy who finds the world an interesting place and likes to capture certain moments with a camera. They aren't for sale, or anything. I just like them. Well, usually. I've taken a lot of photos I don't like, as well.
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She rolled the windows up, cranked the volume up to eleven, laid her seat back, and closed her eyes, lost in the moment.
As I was cruising through rural Missouri, from Appleton City to Golden City, with Cooky's Cafe on my mind, I saw a building off the road and wanted a photo. I liked the way the shadows were hitting the porch and loved it's pristine condition.
I pulled into Tombstone on a warm and sunny late Tuesday morning and was immediately underwhelmed. I’m not saying don’t go there, I’m just saying I’m not a big fan of things that smell too “touristy.”
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