Indiana: Restart Your Engines

The day after the Idol tour ended in Indianapolis last week, I had lunch with Monica. I was going back to the hotel after lunch to do paperwork and Monica would fly to New York. I was also going to have dinner at Alison's house and was telling Monica about Rocky Ripple, where Ali lives.

It's a tiny town within the city, only a mile square. Actually I made that up, I don't know how big Rocky Ripple is. But it's so small that it has only one cop named Marshal Mike who sits and watches and waits for people to do something wrong.

"Like what?" Monica asked.

"Like roll through a stop sign," I said, remembering what Ali's told me.

"Is it a gated community?" Monica asked.

"Oh no, it's old and wooded with big trees, no gates or country clubs or anything like that."

"It sounds like that black and white TV show that had whistling at the beginning of it," said Monica.

"The Andy Griffith Show?" I laughed and shot down a few more of Monica's ideas about Rocky Ripple, like it having a single-celled jail or a grandmotherly receptionist with a fistful of skeleton keys.

Ali picked me up that night and drove me back to her house.

"Just how big is Rocky Ripple?" I asked her, curious as to how much I had embellished for Monica. "Three hundred homes," Ali said.

Aha, maybe I hadn't lied after all. I love it when I accidentally tell the truth. Just then, she pointed left down a street and said, "There he is, in his UNMARKED CAR."

A ways down the block Marshal Mike sat quietly at the curb watching the intersection.

We drove around the block so we could pass him and wave and giggle because we are like TEN YEARS OLD and that was that. I was ready to sit on the kitchen floor, drink a glass of wine, and try not to pass out because that's all I want to do the day after tour ends.

I didn't quite lapse into a stupor but I did get a tiny bit hypnotized by Ali's baby's feet. I don't know what it is about baby feet but they both blow my mind and freak me out. I can't get over how little and perfect they are and I want to take them home with me. But just the feet, not the whole baby.

I am as disturbed by that as you are FYI.

By 8:30 pm I was full of good food and cross-eyed enough to fall asleep standing. Ali drove me back to the hotel and I thought what nice visit that was and I thought I'd gotten my Indiana fix.

Until I got an email yesterday telling me that I missed this action: A man was driving a golden retriever around Rocky Ripple in a golf cart and almost got macked by an Explorer at the stop sign. AND MARSHAL MIKE MISSED IT WTF.

You have a lot of explaining to do, mister.