[Note: In the middle of August 2003, Joe and his wife, Kate, quit their jobs, moved out of their apartment, and hit the road for a three-month trip. What follows are letters Joe has mailed into WatershedCentral HQ.]

09/13/2003, Tucson, AZ

We are currently in blisteringly hot Tucson preparing to make our final approach into the greater Mexico area. Gas prices are topping out at $2.19/gallon, which makes our decision to drive to Mexico via South Dakota even more questionable. Actually, since I am a member of Watershed, the band that routed themselves to Texas via the U.P. of Michigan, I guess it makes perfect sense. That's how we do it...Cannonball Run Style.

This is not to say that the Dakotan leg of our westward expansion was without cultural merit. If we had gone the direct route we would have missed out on the wonder that is the Mitchell (SD) Corn Palace.

Every Summer the denizens of Mitchell dress up the exterior of the local high school gym/auditorium from foundation to roof in corn. Ears, stalks, husks, all of it adding up to a giant corn mosaic. They pick a different theme every year (I forget this year's theme...something about Cowboys and Indians or Rodeo Riders or something).

Inside on the basketball court is a makeshift museum dedicated to preserving the history of the Palace itself, a museum that pays homage to the museum. It's like walking into the Guggenheim and only seeing pictures of the Guggenheim. Well of course there is a souvenir shop also. Disappointingly they didn't sell any cool stuff that glorifies and showcases the awesome power of corn. There was no "Corn Powered Rocket-Car" or "A-maize-ing CornPhone" or "George Foreman's Knockout Corn Popper" to be had. Not even cornstalk hewn rugs or corn chowder for Christ's sake. They just had the same crap you'd find in a truck stop or Cracker Barrel (shotglasses and spoons from all 50 states, etc) with corn pictures on it. And this is what counts as a Palace in Ol' Mitchell? A high school gym dressed as a scarecrow?

Now Rob, based on the assessment above you might think that we felt a little gypped and deceived by the Corn Palace people, but au contraire mon frere, we loved it. You see there comes a point when a Tourist Trap transcends its own Tourist Trapness and becomes a valid destination for people who would otherwise drive right past that sort of thing. Like Courtney Love, it becomes famous not for any innate, substantive reason, but it becomes famous for being famous. That's Celebrity, my friend. It turns from the Corn Palace to THE Corn Palace. The place with signs scattered over the last 400 miles telling you not to miss it. The place that every other person who ever drove to the Badlands stopped at. THE Corn Palace might not offer a Crazy Corn Rocket-Car, but it does offer a "Hell Yes" to "You went to the Badlands? Did you stop at the Corn Palace"? It allows you to plug into some shared American Experience, however cheesy. You mock it even as you find yourself counting down the exit numbers, but you don't dare skip it. You have to stop, it's FAMOUS. It's Must-See-TV for the RV set. Plus, it's a necessary diversion after 5 hours of South Dakotan prairie. Now, where the hell is Wall Drug?

Since I last wrote we've been to Denver; Moab, UT; Flagstaff, AZ; Las Vegas, NV; and Phoenix, AZ.

More Later,
Joe

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