I regretted not having downloaded music for my drive across West Texas. It would have been nice to listen to songs with sustained notes to complement the expansive landscape. I was instead stuck flipping back and forth on the car stereo between a radio evangelist and a NPR host. They both moralized in the same way, which, over hours, mesmerized me into a kind of political schizophrenia. Because daytime temperatures around here are regularly over 100 degrees, the roads were lined with blown out tires, which gave a distinct burnt rubber smell that for me became Texas perfume. Whenever I pulled over for relief, my piss seemed to almost sizzle and vaporize on contact with the asphalt, like water boiling over on a hot stovetop. The highways ran straight in the desert for hours. I had to stare into the heat haze distance which made my eyes cross unless I readjusted constantly. Even while driving 130 mph in my rental car I was still bored.
The inescapable presence of obesity in this part of America is hard to overstate. When I arrived in Texas, I chose to eat barbecue in El Paso for my only meal in over 24 hours. At the restaurant, I lost my appetite on first sight. Without any joy the clientele swallowed massive…
