This is Jack Burton in the Pork Chop Express and I’m talkin to whoever’s listening out there…
Now, I’m not saying that I’ve been everywhere and I’ve done everything, but I do know it’s a pretty amazing planet we live on here, and a man would have to be some kind of fool to think we’re alone in this universe.
I grew up maybe five miles from I-70. It was just the highway we took to town, nothing special. It went as far west as Columbus and east to Zanesville, stretching the breadth of my world. We pumped our gas at truck stops and watched for out-of-state plates, listened to truckers on CB radios, and made the arm-pulling “honk” signal to passing semi trucks. Yes, we had maps, and yes, I knew that 70 went much, much further in both directions, but for my purposes as a kid it was the road that took us one way to the Brown Derby and Children’s Palace and the other way to see family.
When I was 20 I drove to Colorado. By that time I’d traveled a bit in both directions, but on this trip it really set in just how far I-70 could take you. (Driving the entire width of Kansas has a way of making you see distance with new eyes.) But you get on this one road, and west (young man) is a reachable destination.
Well once again I live close to 70. Probably within a mile or so, I’d say, if the crow were wont to fly there from my house. And I thought that I should take advantage of this proximity, so I asked Santa for a CB. Santa did, indeed, bring me a nice model (thanks, mom and dad), and last week I installed it in the kitchen so I could listen to the banter of the professional truck drivers who pass through my strip of I-70.

