We were driving back from Chicago into Indiana. Northern Indiana has proud stretches of Bland. Yes, Bland. It’s Bland for as far as the eye can see. Generations grew up maintaining, enjoying and being comforted by the seemingly endless supplies of Bland. There are miles and miles of fields, respectable farms and an incredible amount of nothing else.
I can say this, because my mother was from the deep South and my father from the cold North, that this is like the Bible Belt with all personality stripped away. Boring is a popular accessory for all the Bland.
So imagine my surprise that along Highway 65 is a zit in the Bland, or a little oasis if you will. Suddenly, you’re besieged by billboards advertising adult bookstores, strip clubs, and even (my favorite) The Rub Club. The Rub Club advertises massages, but (and this is only a gut feeling) there might be more rubbing involved at a higher price.
In the middle of all of these billboards is a lonely small black billboard that reads “Hell Is Real!” I think Stephen King has a setting for his next novel.
What kills me is that it’s supposedly “God’s Country”. It is known for being deeply conservative. The most radical among them worship at the Methodist Church and they’re not trusted. I mean, they might perform Grease in their playhouse. That could lead to less Bland.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen sex clubs proliferating out in the middle of fuddy-duddy breeding grounds. It always seems like there’s a place for sin in the middle of the Bible Belt.
So after the residents finish complaining about people different than themselves, they’ll make fun of the name Obama by voting for a guy whose name is Mitt. They will assure themselves that they have done everything they could do to preserve what this country is all about: sexual repression.
And this liberal has to wonder what is in a 24 hour adult superstore. I know, I can look it up. I’ve probably seen it all (previous research papers and whatnot). I wonder because maybe, just maybe, the contents of these adult superstores can unite us.
Forget science, forget communicating, forget respect … let people of all beliefs, races and orientations hold town meetings in these stores and come together.