I have wanted to travel Route 66 since I was a kid. The road that was once the East to West coast passage is now a fragmentation, the verisimilitude, of its historical fame. Three or four blocks mark the way with antique stores selling paraphernalia that 70 years ago store keepers touted as the newest, latest release. Each corner housed an outdoor restaurant. As I walked the quaintness I could not help but notice those entering and exiting the eateries. Some were tall. Others were short. Some were fat. Others were thin.
Some had short hair. Others had… Well, you get the idea. No one seemed to
notice the difference. Everyone appeared to accept one another. No one commented
or mocked those who were different. There appeared to be a complete indifference
to each other’s difference. Maybe we could all learn something on Route 66: Size
does not matter.