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!