Road Trip Day Two! Rural Kansas and Tulsa!

 Driving south thru rural Kansas is a chore. Two lane highways and lots of trucks to pass. I needed gas in Osawatomie and saw the above mural reminding me that John Brown the abolitionist was from there. Brown is one of my American heroes, so I had to find something relating to Brown. There's a John Brown Park, and there's a John Brown cabin in said park. It's free and I had to tour it. It won't take you a half hour to go thru it but it is very informative for us museum geeks. It's an original cabin from 1854, some of it restored after some nut setting it on fire years ago. Well worth it .

Back on the road and as I get more south it started. Trump flags, Trump signs, Trump this and Trump that. One farm had a Trump flag flying above the upside-down American flag. What the fuck is wrong with these people? What threat do they perceive that an orange felon is their only hope? These people are nice, they are friendly, yet they feel so oppressed that a so-called billionaire who wouldn't let them in his private golf clubs is their savior? It became a goddamned joke once you get into Oklahoma and Tulsa and you see a Let's Go Bradon billboard? Very timely I say.

The Double A Tulsa Drillers, an affiliate of the hated Dodgers, play at Oneok Field. I was lost, saw a parking lot for $6, paid the fee and then realized I was a half mile away. It's 100 degrees and I'm walking half a mile to watch a minor league baseball game. Yes, I'm nuts.

The concessions are standard fare, there really was nothing unique but I do have one tip. Get the pizza before the 5th inning because when I bought a slice it was so dried out it was like eating some dried-up tomato sauce on a piece of Styrofoam. Not good. It was too hot for me to drink beer and dehydrate myself but there are lots of choices of craft beers and domestic cans.

The Drillers wore some hideous unform that looked like an orange life jacket and called themselves the "Raft Racers". I was baffled but it must mean something in Tulsa. I sat behind a group of players wives with babies (who brings a baby to a game in 100-degree heat) and at one point a Driller walking out to the bullpen stopped, looked at his wife, and gave the uni a thumbs down.

The baseball was good. The heat was not. The stadium planners, when they built this ballpark, knew what they were doing because at 7 pm, virtually the entire stadium was in the shade. Only the poor folks on the outfield berm with their dogs (it was Bark in the Park) were in the sun. But it was 100 freakin degrees and I could only last into inning 7 before I had to get out of there and take the trek back to my car walking past the homeless folks living under a bridge.

Day 3 awaits in Arkansas.