18 SPAM, SPAM, SPAM, SPAM

Chapter 18 SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM As they headed north on Route 81, Dr. McDonald was fuming. He was so angry, he couldn't speak. He did not want to go see another ball of twine. In cartoons, animators typically have smoke pouring out of characters' ears to signal they're really mad. There might as well have been smoke pouring out of Dr. McDonald's ears. Go to Google Maps (http://maps.google.com/). Click Get Directions. In the A box, type Cawker City KS. In the B box, type Lincoln NE. Click Get Directions.

But he was a devoted husband and father, too. Sometimes it seemed as though he loved his family even more than he loved himself. And if his family wanted him to drive hours out of his way to Minnesota to see another @#$%^&* ball of twine, he decided, then, @#$%^&*, he would drive them there. That's the kind of a man he was. Please excuse the language. This is just what was going through Dr. McDonald's mind. He was so angry, in fact, that he had forgotten that the contents of the RV's holding tank had not been emptied since the family left California. It was nearly filled to the top now. It crossed Coke's mind a few times that he should do a dump, but he never did anything about it. The thought of dropping four days' worth of human waste through a tube into a hole in the ground was not Coke's idea of a fun morning. He figured that when the time came that they really needed to do a dump, his father would let him know.

But Dr. McDonald wasn't talking. He didn't say a word to anybody for three hours. The sun was getting low in the sky, so as soon as he saw an RV CAMPING sign outside of Lincoln, Nebraska, he pulled off the highway. And after a good night's sleep, at least some of his anger had subsided. Driving up through Minnesota could be fun, he tried to convince himself as they got back on I-80 toward Omaha. He'd never been to Minnesota, he reasoned. It was always good to try new things. Go to Google Maps (http://maps.google.com/). Click Get Directions. In the A box, type Omaha NE. In the B box, type Darwin MN. Click Get Directions. Minnesota was supposed to be beautiful in the summer, he said silently. Spontaneity makes for the best vacation memories, he decided.

It might even be fun to see another giant ball of twine, he thought. But deep down inside, he didn't believe a word of it. It's 440 miles from Omaha, Nebraska, to Darwin, Minnesota. Seven hours and twenty- five minutes of driving, if you don't stop. That's a lot of driving. The RV was filled with tension. As they passed Omaha and crossed over into Iowa, Coke didn't even announce any useless information about the state. Mrs. McDonald pulled out an Iowa guidebook and began to leaf through it. "Y'know, there's a forty-five ton concrete bull in Audubon," she said quietly. "It's the largest bull in the world. We should go see it. It's not far out of the way. Its name is Albert." "No!" Coke and Pep shouted from the back.

"We want to get to the other ball of twine!" "There's a ten-foot ear of corn in Coon Rapids," Mrs. McDonald announced a few minutes later. "And it rotates." "No!" the kids barked. "We want to see the other ball of twine!" "How about the Buddy Holly Monument in Clear Lake?" Mrs. McDonald suggested gently. "Buddy Holly sang 'Peggy Sue,' 'It's So Easy,' 'Rave On'..." In the front seat, the grown-ups broke into an off-key version of "That'll Be the Day." "No!" yelled the kids. "We want to see the other ball of twine!" "How about the Hobo Museum?" Mrs. McDonald persisted. "It says here that while many people think of hobos as drunks and criminals, the Hobo Museum celebrates them as dignified men who preferred a relaxed lifestyle on the road without the pressures of owning homes and acquiring material possessions." "I think I would like the life of a hobo," Dr.

McDonald said. "No schedules or deadlines. No mortgage or phone bills. No office. You can dress the way you want, go where you want, and sleep when you want. And you get to see the world. Maybe I should become a hobo." "How would we put the kids through college, dear?" asked Mrs. McDonald. "Who needs college?" he replied. "The kids could become hobos too." "No!" came shouts from the backseat. "Ball of twine!" Mrs. McDonald continued to leaf through the guidebook but stopped suggesting interesting places to stop. Dr. McDonald pulled off I-80 East at Des Moines and merged onto Interstate 35, which goes north-south and cuts Iowa almost perfectly in half. It seemed as if they had been driving forever. Heading north, it was another two hours before they crossed the state line.