Happy Idiots

On the billboards and TV ads, they'd call it the "Auto Mile." It was a strip of state highway, not far from where I lived, sandwiched by two enormous parking lots. Despite being anchored by dealerships for several major American car brands, as a local landmark, it felt pretty weak. It wouldn't even add a click to your odomoter if you drove the length of it.

But if you turned around instead and drove a couple (proper) miles to yet another strip mall, you'd find all of the churches. Arguably, an even larger, more impressive assembly of major American brands (and even a few imports from Europe.) There was the Catholic church, and the Methodist church. There was the First Baptist church, then the (other) Baptist church, and then the (other) Catholic church. There was the Episcopal church, the Catholic convent (Sisters of Jesus and Mary), and then Sacred Heart (the other, other Catholic Church.) There was the American Legion (with Sunday Services), and something called Victory Bible, which I initially mistook for a boxing gym. Reviewers online praised its "ample parking lot."

If you then decided to turn back again towards the car dealerships, you'd soon encounter yet another enormous parking lot situated at the literal cross-roads of these two highways. This one surrounding a sprawling outdoor shopping village. Six lanes of traffic delivered visitors by the thousands. So as I came to see it, being raised staunchly Catholic-adjacent, God, gas prices and credit card interest had to have been the Holy Trinity. And by not being beholden to such spirits, I was about as far from grace as you could get down by exit 38.