Welcome to Texas. Want Some Sushi?

Well, we crossed into Texas at (wait a minute, lemme check the EXIF data, ah yes) 2:30 PM Central time today. As you can see, the road surface noticeably changes from well-worn to simply worn at this point. And slightly pinker, perhaps. Other than that, the only difference between Texas and the preceding three states is that Texas is, if it is at all possible, flatter than Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma and the proverbial twelve-year-old girl combined. (But not the twelve-year-old girls in Texas, if you know what I mean.) Texas makes Missouri seem like Vermont. And Texas makes twelve-year-old girls seem like Anna Nicole Smith. (Wait a minute, Texas made Anna Nicole. Never mind, bad analogy.)

But we're making good time, and we're spending very little of it on the interstate. In fact, we probably spent more time driving back and forth on I-40 in Amarillo late this afternoon looking for tonight's Marriott, thanks in part to a four-inch square map from the hotel's website, and slightly cockeyed city planning.

Historic 66 isn't as well marked here as it is in other states, but it runs pretty much alongside I-40 most of the way across the panhandle. What's really bizarre is that for most of those stretches it's a 55 MPH road, and, in parts, goes to 65! Imagine doing 65 on your favorite stretch of worn down two lane blacktop, no shoulder, just a small gully on either side. I think Sherry was eyeballing those two way-back seats for this part of the ride. (Yup. My day to drive!)

So with that, as well as being the only vehicle on the damn thing for long runs (I swear, there was one point where no cars were coming in the opposite direction for an hour or more) we were in the interesting position of pacing the tractor-trailers for miles at a time.

So we're at the Amarillo Marriott Courtyard tonight, and had dinner at the Kabuki Japanese Steakhouse across the parking lot. A Bennihana-type place, though we skipped the grillside performance for a regular table. And again, we independently decided on the same thing, the steak and chicken combo. (Only after she politely turned down the offer to try the sushi, that is. Sushi in Texas? Who'da thunk?) (Note from Sherry: I got veggies!!!)

Oh, one other thing: This satellite radio has got to have its own built-in GPS or something, since we left OK City tuned to the Broadway channel with Bonnie's dad singing about that beautiful morning and the fancy horse cart with the fringe and all, but after we hit the land of flat, not a peep from R&H.

Not. A. Peep.