‘Go Bills’—The Universal Language

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Go Bills“Go Bills!” said the man in the blue shirt as he blurred past in the opposite direction.

I stopped dead in my tracks. The magnificent visage of the four heroes on Mount Rushmore rose ahead of me. But I looked back. So did the man who said those words. He puffed out his chest and pointed proudly with inverted thumbs to the logo on his tee. It was a Buffalo Bills shirt. I smiled and answered, “Go Bills!” in return.

Throughout my travels west, I wore my Buffalo Bills cap. Not so much to promote the team, but to keep the sun away from my hairless head.

Still, everywhere I went, there came this familiar refrain: “Go Bills!” On trails, in hotel lobbies, while pumping gas—it didn’t matter. The first few caught me off guard. After that, I began returning the favor. Far away from Buffalo, I had discovered a universal language. The phrase resonated with both Bills fans and even supporters of other teams. (Ironically, the favorite team of one was the Kansas City Chiefs!)

My immediate thought was, “Why does this happen?” But my broader reflection asked, “Why Continue Reading “‘Go Bills’—The Universal Language”

From Beef Country To Hamburger Dreams

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Beef CountryBeef Country lay far beyond the horizon behind us, but as we progressed through the Crossroads of America, hamburger dreams filled our heads. We thought it was just a craving for food. But it was more than that. It was much like the hunger of the hometown fans who crowded the bar under the massive television screen in the spacious hotel lobby, where we ate a late dinner.

We arrived at the Indianapolis Marriott East for our concluding night of vacation. Too tired to find a restaurant, we settled for the meager menu offered by the hotel itself. Only one other family made the same choice. For them, food was secondary. They, like the dozens of others, had their eyes glued to the TV. It was the last game of the NBA Finals. The hometown fans watched their beloved Indiana Pacers lose to the Oklahoma City Thunder.

It was a bitter loss. The Pacers, after winning three ABA titles in the early 1970s, have yet to win an NBA Finals title. In a way, Indiana fans have a hunger similar to that of Buffalo Bills fans. Like the Pacers, the Bills remain winless in Super Bowls, though they did win back-to-back AFL championships.

We’ve seen this same regional pride across America. In Beef Country, you might call it Continue Reading “From Beef Country To Hamburger Dreams”

Tourist Traps to Timeless Landscapes

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Tourist TrapsNot all tourist traps are alike. At some point, a tourist trap transcends its label, becoming a “must-see” simply for being so over the top. I can’t remember when we saw the first Wall Drug roadside sign, but its fame far exceeded its actual appearance.

We’d long left Chicago’s skyline behind for the flatlands. Of course, before the wide-open spaces, we traversed Wisconsin and Minnesota. It’s kind of arbitrary, but somehow poetic, to declare that crossing the Mississippi River truly makes you feel “out West” for the first time.

I-90 crosses the Mississippi on the Wisconsin-Minnesota border immediately south of Lake Onalaska. Yeah, they call it a lake, but it looks like it’s part of the river. Stretching 4 miles across, this is the widest span of the Mississippi River (if you include the Lake).

Oddly, crossing the Mississippi didn’t immediately scream “out West.” Instead, my brain went Continue Reading “Tourist Traps to Timeless Landscapes”

Go West, Young Man! The Open Road Calls

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"Go West, Young Man"“Go West, Young Man!” From the first time I heard that line, it has echoed within my head. Sure, life has taken me many places—many wonderful places, many exotic places. Still, the allure of this simple sentence keeps coming back. It’s been a never-ending whisper, lingering just below the surface of everyday life.

It’s in the quiet moments before dawn when the deepest sleep removes all inhibitions that the call echoes loudest. But upon waking, it disappears. The daily routine takes over. Yet it gnaws. Beneath the skin. Yearning to be free.

Then, one morning, it happened. The bags packed snugly into the family truckster (an aptly named Ford Expedition, courtesy of the also aptly named Enterprise), the phrase became a reality. We, the Carosas, were heading west. No longer a young man, the spirit of my youth danced sprightly in my mind.

On this day, we would heed the siren call of this purely American vision.Continue Reading “Go West, Young Man! The Open Road Calls”

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