Blue gal in a red state

My trip to Missouri was relatively uneventful.

Which is good when you’re driving an unfamiliar rental car on an Army base filled with Military Police just jonesing to pull you over for the slightest infraction.

In the short time I was driving on base, I saw no less than three people get pulled over so I’m happy I made it out unscathed.

Did Missouri scare me?

A little.

Their love of Donald Trump was evident.

There was a billboard proclaiming “Thank you President Trump for making America great again.”


This after his divisive statements about women of color in Congress.

It’s fine.

I survived.

I even survived an old vet telling me he loves California but “hates our politics.”

If anyone is entitled to an opinion on the matter, it’s a vet since he fought for the freedom to speak one’s mind.

One observation about Missouri:  They must really be into tattoos.

There was a tattoo parlor on nearly every corner.

No kidding.

And none of them looked like the type of establishment you’d want to frequent.

So I survived my trip to Missouri.

And barring any more Military Police training for my son and future graduations, I’ll probably never go back there.

And I’m okay with that.