When I think of Missouri, I think of racist lunatics, murderous thugs, inbred meanies, and high-pitched voices. I can’t explain why. It’s just a feeling.
I was surprised, then, to take three pictures in the state of Missouri that were very nice. Here they are.
Sunrise over the St. Louis Amtrak/Greyhound station, taken through stained glass. There’s always something whimsical and rare about seeing the sunset in the evening and rise the next morning, like you’re living in time with the forces of nature and the solar system, sleeping and waking when you should.
Rainy skies in Boonsville, Missouri, with a white farmhouse in the background. We stopped at the Boonsville station, which was little more than a metal awning with a sign. Only one person got off, a girl from Ohio, late teens/early twenties, with a pretty face but a very fat body. I mention this because she was in Boonsville to meet her “boyfriend”, a guy she’d met on Facebook about a year ago. They’d Skyped twice, so she knew he was real, though I’ve seen enough episodes of ” Catfish” to know that it could be someone using their cousin for an elaborate prank. I also fear that she’s one of those people who puts nice face selfies up and never shows the bottom half. Mr. Boonsville might not have such large expectations. I will never, ever know what happens. I hope they hit it off splendidly and are able to make up a better “how we met” story that doesn’t involve the world wide web.
The skyline of Kansas City, Missouri. I ate a bacon cheeseburger here that was better than anything in the city.