Like a band of ... Roma... we go down the highway

Took me 3 hours to drive over the mountains for a meeting. It should've only taken 1.5 hours (like it did to get out of Dodge and come home), but it was snowing on the way there and there were about 7 accidents slowing traffic on the way. I think I spent more hours on the road than in the town itself (which has the coolest Best Western I have ever stayed at, btw, but then again I've only stayed at like 3).

My favorite techno station copped out before I even reach the mountains --it's run out of a local high school communications class, so that's understandable. NPR lasted almost to the summit pass. But after that, the only clear station I got for a while was the local country station. Learned some interesting songs, like "Monday Mr. Mom," which made me happy in spite of the homemaker parent duties being associated with "Mom" and not "Dad" too. The other one I remember was "Tequila Makes Her Clothes Come Off," which wasn't as misogynistic as I thought it was going to be after the first chorus. The rest weren't as memorable, but I remember the content of some songs included a single mama working at a diner taking crap from all sorts of customers, but having it be worth it when her son graduates from college; an absent father being likened to an angel without a halo; one guy planning on talking to his grandpa as soon as he gets to heaven; and one about teenagers stealing wine, drinking it by the river, and driving through the countryside. And shucks, I liked it all.

And then when I reached the city limits I could switch back to beats and lyrics about dropping e and staying up all night at the dance club, shaking booty, and driving on pavement.