In a car headed west. A backseat rider to a conversation. Weather and crops. Snow on the roads. Al’s Oasis and a turkey hot plate. One Coca-Cola and a quick trip through the grocery store. Leisure vans and work trucks. An endless field of sorghum. Hay bales, dead trees and million billboards. Go west. Joe West. I’m him. The rolling hills. The fields of wheat. A fence post. Not one hundred words. It happens.