First, it's a rapid way of getting out of Iowa, albeit by the least interesting route available. (Eastbound, it also ejects you into the maws of Illinois SSR commissars.)
Second, it is America's most incontinent-friendly route. In the 1950s and '60s, someone was having a sale on pissoirs and palaces to house them, and we planted them wholesale. At the posted speed limit you are never more than 27 minutes from relief. Back when our sappy official motto was "A Place to Grow ," a legislator grumpy about the cost of maintaining the "rest areas" said we should change it to "A Place to Go."
Third, it takes you within a few miles of Montezuma and (Mystery Revealed!)...
Where you may sit in a somewhat sterile front area, wander through the catalogs, and fill out your order.
And where you may peek through a window at, but not fondle, Brownell's goodies.
And after your order is quickly processed by an extremely pleasant and efficient Iowa lady, you get to put your new essentials into your Homey Roller, bow to the Temple of Shooty Mammon, and be on your way to less interesting places.
It isn't as much fun as rummaging through Herter's during it's year-long quitting -business sale, but it's warmer than mail order, and you are permitted to discuss things with actual humans who are blessed with good sense. For example, I wanted a pint of magic cold blue, but they were out of the pint-sizes and had only the little four-ounce bottles at a roughly 50 per cent higher unit cost. I wondered if Brownell's might agree to sell me four 4-oz bottles at the pint price. A quick phone call from the aforementioned nice lady to her boss yielded an instantaneous "yes," and she seemed as pleased as I was.
Good folks there in Montezuma. Stop by and say hi when you're in the area.
Oh. And, in case we Iowa taxpayers didn't afford you enough places to pee, be advised that Brownell's also offers gratis urinal access. Free Markets to the rescue again.
