Road report, Day II

You can wear your opinion on your sleeve, or on your house,  for that matter. This is America. It is also Texas.
We found this display just beyond the trash bins at a filling station in a little cattle town.

We briefly passed through the Texas panhandle, where, according to this resident, world problems stem from (in this order) Blue Blood Republicans, the Carlyle Group, Clintons, Obamas and a nefarious world-wide organization simply known as "They," who, after they get your guns, are going to take your pension and your kids.

Those are trash bins in the foreground, house in back.
Blue skies, no leaves. We don't care. It's warm.

We arrived in Santa Rosa to a fine 53 degree greeting way ahead of schedule, but with no swimming suits, were unable to take full advantage of the amenities. We're parked on the famous Route 66, but, alas, the 50s restaurant next door is closed for remodeling.
Our diagonal shot across Kansas went without a hitch. It's mostly two-lane with no traffic, but the final stretch seems to have been discovered by a bunch of retired baby boomers with RVs that can't keep up with the speed limit.
We met a couple in the lobby from Golden Valley, Minnesota, who cashed it in after last winter in Minnesota and moved permanently to Las Cruces. You can't get much farther south in New Mexico without crossing the border. They love their college town. That's where Stan's ex-editor Jim Rosenthal lives with his wife, the nurse, whose first name has escaped into the ether. The Golden Valley couple didn't care.
Tomorrow morning we'll break from I-40 for the Beeline Highway that will take us to Indian School Road and our home away for the next couple of months.
When I-40 came through Santa Rosa it just about wiped out the Route 66 town. But with some relocation and hard work, family businesses like "Joseph's" have staged a comeback.
If you're looking for Asian or French food in Santa Rosa, you're out of luck, but we found Joseph's to be a great authentic family restaurant. . . even if the salsa was too hot for a Swede and we had to sit in the bar area because so many snowbirds showed up tonight the place was swamped.
The food was excellent, Sandy served it with a smile as we read up on the history of the place, which started up on Route 66 in 1956, the dream of Joseph's late father, Jose.
Kathleen ordered a taco salad, Stan had something called Don Jose's Mexican Dinner No. 1, which seemed like a good place to start.
On our way out, as a public service, we warned any waiting Minnesotans about the hot sauce.
The only disappointment of the evening was Birdie's, when she discovered that there is precious little grass to be found anywhere in Santa Rosa.

Sandy apologized for running out of guacamole sauce. Kathleen substituted french dressing.