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It would — or, perhaps, will — be the trip of a lifetime. And in more ways than one.

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It was snowing and blowing, but there was my friend Cash Overdrive standing in the gravel parking lot of his hardware store, surrounded by a d…

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Somehow, it doesn’t seem very appetizing. It doesn’t seem like something I’d want to stick my fork into when I sit down at the Thanksgiving table.

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It was snowing and blowing, but there was my friend Cash Overdrive standing in the gravel parking lot of his hardware store, surrounded by a dozen or so people huddled together against the cold.

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Somehow, it doesn’t seem very appetizing. It doesn’t seem like something I’d want to stick my fork into when I sit down at the Thanksgiving table.

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It was snowing and blowing, but there was my friend Cash Overdrive standing in the gravel parking lot of his hardware store, surrounded by a d…

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Somehow, it doesn’t seem very appetizing. It doesn’t seem like something I’d want to stick my fork into when I sit down at the Thanksgiving table.

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I miss the ding.

These modern “fueling centers” offer a lot, for sure: Hot food, cold food, groceries, Band-Aids and lottery tickets — gas and diesel, too — but they don’t have the ding.

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I miss the ding.

These modern “fueling centers” offer a lot, for sure: Hot food, cold food, groceries, Band-Aids and lottery tickets — gas and diesel, too — but they don’t have the ding.

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It’s all around us these days — this talk of death and dying.

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It all started with bumper stickers. The first one to appear is lost in the exhaust pipe clouds of time, but I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts…

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I ran into my buddy Smiles Naggs the other afternoon, sitting in the sun at the Dairy Delite licking a cone but looking grim.