Like Robert frost, my heart ached to be in the pastoral countryside. On the Interstate, you really never leave the city. The two asphalt slabs are always surrounded by a continuous, homogeneous channel of pavement, cables and wires, and urban sprawl.

I would advise the curious reader to keep in mind the old adage “truth is stranger than fiction.” Expect the most outlandish, fantastic and unbelievable elements of this story to be true, and the more low-key elements to be fudged.

Route 66 is a symbol for relishing life through-and-through via the senses; the Interstate represents missing out on life. You go from point A (birth) to point B (death) utterly oblivious to what’s happening in between.