Labyrinth
Here's a weird thing. The "Welcome to Missouri" rest area along Interstate 55 features a huge tree in the middle of sidewalks spun into a spiral, so that it looks like one of those New Age labyrinth things certain Boomer-age people get so excited about. I don't know what the deal with this is, but it makes me think of a boss I had back in my newspaper days. She was a Boomer woman who'd been born in Kentucky, but sometime around the time she turned 20, she moved to California, where she spent much of the 1960s, '70s, and '80s. Then she spent some time in Salt Lake City before coming back home in the mid-1990s to Kentucky, but she still had all that New Age West Coast crystal-granola spiritualism. One of the things she believed was that labyrinths had special power, and that if you walked one while banging a drum, it linked you to special lines of power and gave you a better life.
I don't know if that's what this is about. It's Missouri, so you wouldn't think so, but you wouldn't think you'd learn about labyrinths from your boss at a small Kentucky newspaper, either. Maybe Missouri truckers are unusually spiritual.
Labyrinth
Here's a weird thing. The "Welcome to Missouri" rest area along Interstate 55 features a huge tree in the middle of sidewalks spun into a spiral, so that it looks like one of those New Age labyrinth things certain Boomer-age people get so excited about. I don't know what the deal with this is, but it makes me think of a boss I had back in my newspaper days. She was a Boomer woman who'd been born in Kentucky, but sometime around the time she turned 20, she moved to California, where she spent much of the 1960s, '70s, and '80s. Then she spent some time in Salt Lake City before coming back home in the mid-1990s to Kentucky, but she still had all that New Age West Coast crystal-granola spiritualism. One of the things she believed was that labyrinths had special power, and that if you walked one while banging a drum, it linked you to special lines of power and gave you a better life.
I don't know if that's what this is about. It's Missouri, so you wouldn't think so, but you wouldn't think you'd learn about labyrinths from your boss at a small Kentucky newspaper, either. Maybe Missouri truckers are unusually spiritual.