Just got back from a ten-day road trip to Chicago. Dearinger and I drove all the way there and back in her Christmas present to herself, a Chrysler 300c with a hemi which gets about 3 miles to the gallon. It was worth it though, I really enjoyed cranking my seat back and turning on the ass warmer while listening to either my Nine Inch Nails cd or her Carly Simon.

On the way back we stopped in Ogallala Nebraska for dinner. I was enjoying the wagon wheel decor in a restaurant that has a sign outside that says "Livery Stable" when I asked the waitress if the salmon was fresh. She thought I was joking. I guess if I hadn't been so road-logged I could have figured that one out for myself, but there I was, looking up at this poor woman waiting for her to answer.

After explaining to me that the salmon came out of the freezer but was very good, she asked me if I wanted anything to drink. I held up my hand indicating that I wanted her to wait while I picked up my tumbler of ice water, looked at it closely, swirled it around in the glass, and then took a small sip. "This will do," I said, not needing to explain that I am from LA.

She was right, the salmon was indeed very good. I had never eaten deep-fried salmon before.

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