America, Roadside Attractions & 4,735 Miles (Part Three)

This is the final part of a three-part series on my recent cross-country road trip. Be sure to check out part one and part two for more of the story.

When we last left off, we were tasting wine in Iowa and then making our way across the state to stay with our friends Becky and Dan in Indianola. Up until this point in my life, my experience with Iowa included a part in the chorus of The Music Man at age 12 where I uttered the line, “Good morning, Mayor Shinn”  and a college semester in London through a study abroad program put on by Central College in Pella, Iowa. My semester in London did not involve a stop at Central, but I was part of a program that included many students who went to school there and had grown up in Iowa–a childhood much different than mine growing up in the LA area. Because of this, Iowa has always been on my list of places to visit.

Indianola is home to Simpson College, a small liberal arts college founded in 1860. Our visit included a stroll through the beautiful campus. Our friends took us to an amazing local ice cream shop called The Outside Scoop. Our time in Iowa also included meeting Tim’s high school friend Andy and his family for lunch in Ames–a city I only knew because of it’s mention in a song from The Music Man (Yeah, a lot of what I knew about Iowa before this trip came from that musical). I knew they were cool people as soon as I found out we shared an obsession with Hamilton. We laughed a lot and enjoyed a tasty lunch before Tim and I headed to Des Moines for a visit to the Iowa State Capitol, which all our Iowa friends told us was one of the most beautiful capitol buildings–they were not wrong. My favorite parts were the suffrage memorial and the law library, which made me feel like I was in the library of a certain school of witchcraft and wizardry.

After a couple days in Iowa, we once again hit the road for a drive across Nebraska that would end with a night in Cheyenne, Wyoming. The drive was around 650 miles, so we made sure to plan several stops at Roadside Attractions along the way to break out the long, flat drive.

Before leaving Iowa, we found an Easter Island head hanging out in a park. Our stops included a photo op at the GI Body Shop in Grand Island, Nebraska. There’s a yard full of cartoonish cars up on polls that will bring a smile to even the most road-weary face. We made a quick stop at the Stuhr Museum of the Prairie Pioneer in Grand Island in search of more information of a story of two boys from 1864 that we read about on the Roadside America app. Nat and Bob Martin had been shot by Sioux Indians. One of the arrows pierced both of them and joined the brothers together. They tumbled off their horse and were left for dead in a ditch, but they managed to survive and make it back home. Both survived well into adulthood. In front of the museum, you can see a statue of the two boys joined together by that famous arrow, and if you drive about 15 miles from the museum, you can find a marker in the spot where the boys were temporarily joined together.

Our trip also included a quick stop in Gothenburg, Nebraska for a visit to a sod house and some coffee for me. According to the guest book at the coffee shop, they recently had a famous visitor there.

After spending the night in Cheyenne, Wyoming, we made our way to Salt Lake City, Utah via a number of roadside attractions that involved stops at two Little America Hotels in Wyoming. Little America is famous for its taxidermy Emperor Penguin. Back in the 1930s, the owners had originally wanted Emperor the Penguin to be their live mascot, but he did not survive the journey from Antarctica, and now his glassy eyes stare out at visitors from his home perched on a fake block of ice in a glass case. Our drive that day took us along the Lincoln Highway–a stretch of road presided over by the president himself.

Perhaps one of my favorite stops on this leg of the trip was the Carbon County Museum in Rawlins, Wyoming. This was another excellent find from the Roadside America app. What drew me here was the story of George Parrott (also known as Big Nose George) and the shoes made from his skin. Back in the late 19th century, Big Nose George got quite boastful about his criminal exploits, which led to his arrest. He attempted to escape jail by attacking his jailor, but the jailor’s wife heard the commotion and was able to coax Big Nose George back to his cell with the help of a pistol. Masked men broke into the jail and “rescued” Big Nose George, but his rescuers were not really rescuers at all. They turned out to be a lynch mob and poor George met his end strung up on a telegraph poll.

The story does not end there. Legend has it that because of the size of George’s famous nose, extra pressure was required to close the lid of the coffin. Even though George was finally squeezed into the coffin, he would not yet get peaceful eternal rest. Doctor Thomas Maghee and Doctor John Eugene Osborne decided to steal George’s body to study his brain for criminality. This was not quite enough for Osborne who decided to use some of Big George’s skin to make a pair of shoes and a medical bag. You can see the shoes at the museum. Big George’s skull cap was also sawn off and presented to Maghee’s young assistant, Lillian Heath, who would go on to become the first female doctor in Wyoming. They kept his body in a whiskey barrel, where his remains were discovered in the 1950s.

Go to the museum to learn more about Big George’s story, but also be sure to check out all the other interesting items, and spend some time talking to the staff. We had a nice conversation with the museum director who told us all kinds of fun facts about Carbon County and even played the 1913 Edison phonograph for us. Local legend has it that Edison got the idea to invent the lightbulb during a visit to Rawlins.

After a night in Salt Lake City, Utah, we made our way across the Nevada desert and ended our trip in Reno, Nevada, where we visited Tim’s family and picked up his niece for a week with us in Southern California. No sooner were we back to our regular lives than we were both planning for what big road trip we would take next, but all those will have to wait for another time. The real world calls and not every day can be spent on the road, but we will head out again soon. After all, the world is full of stories, and we only saw 4,735 miles of it.

For anyone planning a road trip, I highly recommend the Roadside America app. I am not being paid to endorse their app or website; I am just a huge fun. I opted for the full version (includes attractions in the U.S. and Canada) at $8.98–less than what you would pay for most travel books. You can get just one region for $2.99 if you don’t want the full version, but I would recommend getting all of it to inspire future travels.

Pictures of the Iowa Capitol and the cars on polls in Nebraska are by Tim. All other pictures are by me.


America, Roadside Attractions & 4,735 Miles (Part Two)

In my last post I detailed the first part of my recent cross-country trip. To catch you up, I took off on a nearly two-week road trip with my favorite road buddy Tim. The main purpose of our trip was to attend a second memorial service for his mom in her hometown of Bushnell, Illinois. His mom passed away in May, and my dad passed away in June. Having both been hit with the loss of a parent within about a month of each other, we also knew we needed to make this trip to take care of ourselves and to get a break from all that we had been through. So, we put our lives on hold and took off.

When I left off last time, we were on our way to Bushnell, Illinois, but we had a stop planned in Hannibal, Missouri on our way there. Hannibal is best known for being the home of Mark Twain–a fact that becomes very obvious when you see just how much this town has formed its identity and a whole tourist industry on the famous American author. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I am a sucker for quirky tourist stuff, and I also love literature. So of course I had to stop in Hannibal.

One of the first things in Hannibal that came up on my Roadside America app was the Haunted House on Hill Street–part Christmas & Halloween store, part wax museum, part haunted house and 100% awesome! This rates high on the list when it comes to quirky things we saw on this trip. Perhaps the scariest part of the experience was the room full of 27 wax figures of both real and fictional people from Twain’s life and books. This part of the tour involved standing and staring through glass at the wax figures, which were lit from below–something which upped the spooky factor. A voice narration described who everyone was as well as some interesting facts about the people represented in the room. We learn, for example, that the Tom Sawyer figure contains real teeth taken from a boy’s mouth. There’s no explanation about why the teeth were extracted, and if the boy knew they would live on in the likeness of Tom Sawyer. The narration was just long enough to make you question whether or not a figure or two moved while you stood there staring. Needless to say, I was thankful that there was glass between us and them. At the conclusion of the narration, we were directed to walk through a door and into the haunted house. This was your standard haunted house fare, complete with black lights, glowing creatures, things that pop up, bursts of air and sudden noises. I laughed and screamed in turns, and had a good time.

It’s hard to top an experience like that, but we did have fun visiting Twain’s boyhood home, Huck Finn’s house and Becky Thatcher’s house. I am a book nerd, so I took a moment to whitewash Tom Sawyer’s fence just long enough for a picture, but then I figured it was time to find some friends to handle the job for me.

We gave a quick wave to the Mississippi and then drove up to Bushnell. I had heard quite a bit about Bushnell from Tim’s mom Anne. She always had a fondness for the small town she grew up in and continued to have her columns published in the local paper up until her death. Anne’s stories about the people from Bushnell and the town itself made me feel like I had already been there. Bushnell is a small town of just over 3,000 people. It was founded in 1854 when the Northern Cross Railroad built a line through the area. It’s got the quiet tree-lined streets one expects in a small, Midwest town, and there was a strong sense of community present when we gathered at the community center for the celebration of Anne’s life. I am not a small-town girl, but I can see why Anne held a special place in her heart for her hometown. I had a lovely time visiting Tim’s family in Bushnell and hearing stories of his mom’s youth spent in the town.

Before we left Bushnell for our next stop in Indianola, Iowa, Tim insisted that we stop at a local grocery store to buy some ham salad. Tim said it was one of his favorite foods on his childhood trips back to Bushnell. I use the term “food” loosely because I take issue with anything that lists the first ingredient as “Assorted Hams.” Chalk it up to my snobby California palate, but I really don’t think I can accept ham salad as a food.

Ham Salad

After the ham salad adventure, we began the drive to stay with our friends in Indianola, Iowa. We stopped at a bookstore in Burlington, Iowa that was home to a replica of the TARDIS from Doctor Who.  Aside from the TARDIS, Burlington by the Book is a delightful bookstore with a nice selection and friendly staff. We even made time to drive down Snake Alley, a competitor for the title of World’s Crookedest Street. Apparently there is much debate about which is more crooked: Snake Alley or San Francisco’s Lombard Street. I have been down both, and scientifically I am not sure which street should have the title, but I think I enjoyed the fact that there is less traffic on Snake Alley. Plus, it’s in a town with a TARDIS, so that should get some bonus points. I’m not sure, but I think that the TARDIS and the crooked street might be some kind of sign that something is off with the space-time continuum in Burlington, which makes it an awesome place to visit. I would love to go back and explore the town a bit more because we saw some interesting street art and other stores that would be worth checking out.

I experienced my first major Midwest summer storm from behind the wheel of my Honda Civic as we made our way across Iowa. We made a quick stop at a gas station as the sky opened up and thunder rattled the awning over our heads. We looked around as lightning streaked across the sky and realized that the locals were not heading for cover despite the torrential downpour, so we bravely pulled out onto the road. Fortunately the rain stopped and moved on almost as quickly as it started, but the experience did leave me asking Tim to Google the signs of an impending tornado. I am happy to report that I did not end up experiencing my first tornado on this trip.

Iowa wine

We made an unplanned stop at Cedar Valley Winery when we saw a sign advertising wine tasting. Tim and I have made regular trips to the Napa Valley, and we finally took a wine tasting class earlier this year, so we decided to put our tasting skills to the test in Iowa. Living in California, it is easy to forget that many other areas produce wines, and we were surprised to see this cute, little winery tucked in the middle of the cornfields of Iowa. The woman who worked in the tasting room was very knowledgeable and explained that the wines there were made entirely from the grapes grown on the property. She also told us that Midwesterners tend to enjoy their wines on the sweeter side, which we noticed with the wines we tasted. She asked about the purpose of our trip, and Tim explained that both of us had recently lost a parent and that we had just been to a memorial service for his mom in her hometown. It’s a tale that’s part Victorian novel and part fodder for the classic American road trip, right?

As I said in my last post, this could easily be a story of all those complicated emotions that are a part of grieving the loss of a loved one. And to be honest, when I would hear one of us start to tell the story, it almost sounded tragic to the point where I wanted to laugh in order to avoid crying my eyes out. Yeah, grief is complicated. And sometimes all you can do is get on the road and keep driving, which is why we did what we did. Maybe this is the kind of story where we find ourselves out on the road, or maybe it was just a way to try to fill in a little bit of the huge void left when you lose a parent. I don’t know yet. Even though the miles on the road are done, there are still miles to go in the grieving process, and I am lucky we had the opportunity to drive cross country because staying still was making me lose my mind.

I will leave off there for this post and will wrap things up in part three in a few weeks.

For anyone planning a road trip, I highly recommend the Roadside America app. I am not being paid to endorse their app or website; I am just a huge fun. I opted for the full version (includes attractions in the U.S. and Canada) at $8.98–less than what you would pay for most travel books. You can get just one region for $2.99 if you don’t want the full version, but I would recommend getting all of it to inspire future travels.

All pictures are by me except the Bushnell sign, the TARDIS picture and the picture of me with Tom Sawyer’s fence. Those are by Tim Pershing.

America, Roadside Attractions & 4,735 Miles (Part One)


“And he would take a roadside attraction, no matter how cheap, how crossed, or how sad, over a shopping mall, any day.”
–Neil Gaiman, American Gods

What do a naked bookseller, a pair of shoes made of human flesh and a giant meteor crater have in common? No idea? Well, they were all part of my recent cross-country road trip with my friend and regular road buddy Tim. We have been talking for years about making such a trip, but work and life always seemed to get in the way of a long trip like that. But, with each of us losing a parent within six weeks of each other, we knew that hitting the road was the best way to take care of ourselves amid the wave of grief and emotion that follows such loss.

Our trip was planned around a second memorial service for Tim’s mom in her hometown of Bushnell, Illinois, and it had only been a few weeks since my dad died when we set off on the road. The two months leading up to the road trip had been filled with picking up the pieces after the loss of both our parents and all the crazy emotions that go with that. We both knew that simply going back to our normal lives right after we had been through all that was not an option. I could write pages and pages about the emotion of losing a parent for the second time and finding myself suddenly an adult orphan, but this isn’t that kind of story. The first time I dealt with this kind of loss, I was not so good at taking care of myself. This time I want to make things different. And that is what inspired me to get on the road.

Tim had made the drive to Bushnell many times with his mom, but I had never driven through the states on our route. Armed with my trusty Honda Civic filled with luggage and snacks, the Roadside America app and a sense of adventure, we hit the road on Monday, July 4. Road trips seem like such a strong part of American culture, especially for someone who grew up in the LA area where our entire existence is designed around freeways, traffic and the almighty car. Thus, it seemed fitting to set off on Independence Day.

In a time where a family can make a whole trip out of just visiting the Disneyland resort, and attractions are often fine-tuned operations that run with high levels of precision in order to maximize the guest experience, it is easy to miss the humble roadside attractions–many of which are relics of days gone by when they littered the highways of America to provide entertainment to weary travelers making their way across the country by car. I have always been fascinated by these old museums, oversized statues and roadside oddities. These are the places that really tell the story of this country, and they are often run by some of the most fascinating and dedicated people I have ever met on my travels. I think Neil Gaiman is onto something in American Gods, when he points out that roadside attractions are some of the most sacred spots in the U.S.

I have often felt the pull of a sign that notes a historical site or a billboard announcing some strange artifact. It is in these places that we find the stories that weave together into defining American culture. We are more than flashy, high tech attractions–such places may be entertaining, but they really do not even break the surface of our histories. Americans often lament that we have no unique culture, but I disagree with this. Our culture and our history can be found if you look in the right places. Our real stories are found in the dusty roadside oddities and the people who care for them. And if this trip was truly going to be a reset for us after the difficult couple months we had just experienced, it was going to have to involve some interesting stops along the way.

Our first overnight was in Flagstaff, Arizona with a stop for dinner with Tim’s awesome Uncle Mel and Aunt Marcia just outside of Phoenix. On our way there, I decided to test out the Roadside America app, which immediately proved that it was worth every penny I spent on it. As we drove along the 10 East, I tried out the “Near Me” feature on the app and saw a listing for “Naked Bookstore Owner.” I turned to Tim and said, “Oh, we have to go here.” Then I proceeded to give him directions to Reader’s Oasis in Quartzsite, Arizona, a dusty used bookstore just off the 10 in the middle of the desert. The store lacks air conditioning, but there are fans and the owner is generous with offers of ice water while you browse.  There are shelves stacked high with books that wind all over in a strange desert labyrinth that any reader would celebrate getting lost in. A trailer sticks out of the front of the store, which provides even more space for books.

Reader’s Oasis  is run by Paul Winer, also known as Sweetie Pie. Paul is a bit of a legend, and he has been running the bookstore in Quartzite for more than 20 years. A quick Google search will turn up a number of pictures and stories about this unusual man who freely welcomes visitors to take his picture. My first introduction to Paul was walking around a shelf filled with old volumes covered in plastic to keep the desert dust from filling the pages. There was Paul’s very tanned, bare butt as he bent over a stack of books he was stocking on a shelf that he later told us had tragically collapsed that morning. I have been in a lot of bookstores, and I have to see that this was the first time I had encountered such a view.

Once you get over the fact that Paul is wearing no more than a hat, flip flops and a strategically placed pouch, he’s really a nice and interesting guy. He is an accomplished blues musician and has a piano in his store. We had a nice talk with him about the purpose of our trip and a touching conversation about the difficulties of losing a parent and grief in general. Paul is a one-of-a-kind bookseller, and I highly recommend taking the time to visit him out in Quartzsite if your travels take you that way.

Our drive on the first day also took us by the Hobo Joe statue, which was a bit off the highway but worth a stop for a quick picture in the 100+ degree heat. We followed the directions to the address for Hobo Joe and were about to turn back because we ended up turning down a lonely, desolate road in an industrial area, but suddenly he popped up as we made our way down the street. Hobo Joe is 25-feet tall and stands in front of a slaughterhouse. He was meant to stand in front of a Hobo Joe Coffee Shop, but the chain closed, and a friend of the deceased owner gave Hobo Joe a home in this spot in 1989. If you have the hobo spirit in you, throw a bindle over your shoulder and take a detour to meet Hobo Joe.

The next day, we drove on to visit friends in Antonito, Colorado, a drive that included a stop at the Bicentennial Moon Tree in Flagstaff, Arizona–a tree that was supposedly grown from seeds that had been to the moon. The story goes that someone pulled out the original tree out of the ground three days after it was planted in April 1976. The faded, old sign for the tree is still there as well as the replacement tree (from non-moon seeds), and it sits on the edge of a beautiful pond. Go visit to remember the moon tree that once was, and let your imagination take over and pretend that the stunted tree that grows there now came from seeds that had journeyed to the moon.

On the drive to Antonito, we also visited the Meteor Crater outside of Winslow, Arizona. The crater was formed approximately 50,000 years ago and is nearly one mile across, 2.4 miles in circumference and over 550 feet deep. There is a museum that contains exhibits on the space program and meteors. The crater was used as a training ground for astronauts preparing to travel to the moon, so it has a strong link to the history of American space travel. As the daughter of two people who met while working as computer programmers at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, this place was a real treat.

When I was in the passenger seat, I had started going through the app and looking at attractions on our route. I kept saving the ones I wanted to see, and it became a game to mark things as “Been There.” As the rest of the country was getting hooked on Pokemon Go, I was creating my own little Roadside Attractions scavenger hunt.

I have travelled in the U.S., but aside from numerous west coast road trips, all my travels in the U.S. involved air travel. Seeing the U.S. form the car with the option of  stopping to see fun and quirky pieces of Americana really gave me a version of the country that hopping around by plane doesn’t provide.

Our friends Earl and Louise in Antonito drove us around the town, which had a population of 781 as of the 2010 census. The town boasts several interesting landmarks, including the house that was used as Indiana Jones’s childhood home in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade as well as a junk castle built by a man named Cano. Cano calls it Jesus’s Castle, and he claims that Jesus has been living there since 1987. We just drove by, and this is a private residence, so I didn’t take pictures. You can follow the link above to read more about Cano’s story and to see pictures from when the Roadside America people visited the castle and talked to Cano himself.

We had a relaxing couple days with our friends in Antonito before hitting the road again–a drive that took us through Southern Colorado and across Kansas before settling in Junction City for the night. A number of people had told me that parts of the drive would be long and flat. As a California girl who grew up in the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains, the flat, open spaces that stretched for miles and miles were a bit jarring. It finally dawned on me that when you grow up in a place with varied geography and plenty of mountain ranges in the distance, there is always some sense that there is more and that there are all kinds of things over the mountains. With the flatness of the Midwest, especially when out in rural areas, the fields just seem to stretch out forever as though that is all the world is made up of.

Somewhere on the road between Antonito, CO & Junction City, KS

Somewhere on the road between Antonito, CO & Junction City, KS

Now, I don’t want you to think I don’t like the Midwest because of this. There are actually quite a few things to like about the middle of America, which I will elaborate on in my next post. I just need to admit that I am spoiled by living in California when it comes to the view. I don’t think our geography can be beat, and it sets the bar quite high.

Our drive from Junction City to Bushnell, Illinois included a stop at the General John J. Pershing Boyhood Home in Laclede, Missouri. Tim’s last name is Pershing, and the General is a distant relation of his, so I knew we had to make a stop.  The site includes the home, a schoolhouse and museum. Perhaps the most interesting bit of history for me was General Pershing’s connection to the Patton family. My great-grandmother Ellen Dyer Stephens was the cook for the parents of General George Patton for years in San Marino, California. Even after she stopped working for the family, she maintained a good relationship with them, and they helped pay for a private room and nurse for my grandma when she broke her hip tobogganing at age 19.  I even found General Patton’s sister’s name in the guest book for my grandma’s bridal shower. At the museum, I learned that General Pershing had a brief relationship with General Patton’s sister Nita. It’s just a reminder that even when traveling thousands of miles, you find that the world is indeed a small place.

So, I am going to leave off here for this post and pick up this story in my next post. If you want to know what is happening in the pictures below, be sure to visit my blog later this month. And, of course, you will hear the story of the shoes made of human skin in Wyoming. You may even be treated to tales of ham salad. Don’t miss out!

For anyone planning a road trip, I highly recommend the Roadside America app. I am not being paid to endorse their app or website; I am just a huge fun. I opted for the full version (includes attractions in the U.S. and Canada) at $8.98–less than what you would pay for most travel books. You can get just one region for $2.99 if you don’t want the full version, but I would recommend getting all of it to inspire future travels. 

Pictures at Reader’s Oasis, me at the Meteor Crater and the horses in Antonito were taken by Tim Pershing. All other photos are by me.

Thoughts on Neil Gaiman’s American Gods

American Gods2

“And he would take a roadside attraction, no matter how cheap, how crossed, or how sad, over a shopping mall, any day.”
Neil Gaiman, American Gods

I had picked up American Gods about a year ago and put it on my big pile of books to read. Prior to reading this novel, I had read some of Gaiman’s short stories, seen screen adaptations of his work and watched the episodes of Doctor Who that he wrote. Several friends had pushed me to read American Gods, so I finally picked it up over the summer. Within the first few pages, I was in love with the book. Before I get too far, I want to let my readers know that this review will be mostly free of spoilers. I have given away a few plot points, but they are all minor things revealed very early on in the story. I also want to point out that I read the author’s preferred text, which is longer than the original version and contains some edits by Gaiman.

In American Gods, Gaiman has captured American culture in a way that I think is nearly impossible for someone who was born and raised in the U.S. When we are so heavily immersed in our own culture, I think it can be hard to pull a description of cultural identity from our own experience. Gaiman grew up in England, but he moved to the U.S. in 1992. Perhaps this is what gives him the unique perspective that helped lay the groundwork for this novel about Shadow, a man who starts working for the somewhat mysterious Mr. Wednesday in a job that takes him all over the country and through stories that shape the fabric of our cultural identity. Shadow finds himself swept up in the impending storm that is brewing as a result of belief in the old gods fading and people turning increasingly to things like TV and the Internet as their “new gods.”

I think it is a challenge to come up with a succinct description of what makes us American. It goes much deeper than baseball, fireworks on the 4th of July and the American flag. We are a country of immigrants. Our ancestors arrived here with their stories and from that built American culture. We still hold on to pieces of our past in declaring our national heritage outside this country even if our family has been here for many generations. Gaiman’s novel captures this connection to our past through introducing us to the gods who exist in this country because of the people who arrived here with stories of them.

Roadside attractions play a significant part in American Gods. As we learn, early on, such places are among the most sacred spots in the U.S. Wednesday explains to Shadow that in other countries, people would recognize that a place had power and would respond by building a cathedral or other such sacred monument. Shadow points out the there are churches all over the U.S., and Wednesday explains that churches are so common that there placement is, “about as significant, in this context, as dentists’ offices.” He goes on to say,

No, in the USA, people still get the call, or some of them, and they feel themselves being called to from the transcendent voice, and they respond to it by building a model out of beer bottles of somewhere they’ve never visited, or by erecting a gigantic bat-house in some part of the country that bats have traditionally declined to visit. Roadside attractions: people feel themselves being pulled to places where, in other parts of the world, they would recognize that part of themselves that is truly transcendent, and buy a hot dog and walk around, feel satisfied on a level they cannot truly describe, and profoundly dissatisfied on a level beneath that (106).

In a time where major amusement parks and packaged entertainment are at the center of many a family vacation, it is interesting that Gaiman takes us to some of America’s odd and unusual roadside attractions. In a way, it symbolizes the battle between the old and new gods that is central to the novel. As Wednesday points out, even when we have a connection to our sacred places, we have a hard time seeing our experience for what it is. This becomes a metaphor for our own disconnect from the old gods in the novel.

My regular readers know that I love road trips, and I am especially fond of following the pull of an old, faded sign that points toward a roadside attraction. Such places tell our cultural story in a way that a grand, highly polished amusement park run by a large corporation cannot. There is beauty in the dusty museum filled with artifacts and black & white photographs in the middle of the Eastern Sierra or the curious metal statues on the side of the road. I like Gaiman’s take on such places in American Gods, and it is a nice way to think of how some of us feel pulled to such places–even if our way of expressing that feeling is through constructing some roadside oddity.

Traveling through American Gods is a journey through understanding the stories that shape our own experience. Such things won’t be found in the latest version of the iPhone or a day at Disneyland. For me, the old stories exist on the road and the places found there, and I hope it is that way of you too. Perhaps if we take a moment to look around and take in what we are seeing, we will feel the sacredness and beauty in these places.

Be sure to check out my friend Jenni Buchanan’s interview with Neil Gaiman over at the Reading Rainbow blog.

Work Cited:

Gaiman, Neil. American Gods. New York: William Morrow, 2013. Print.