e got off the freeway for gas at Seligman, which calls itself the birthplace of Route 66. This bears investigation. Some day. We left town on 66 instead of the interstate, and 17 miles later found a modern sign marking Route 66; I was hoping for one of the older signs, but I’ll bet they’ve all been nicked long ago.
There was a wide flat spot across the road, so we parked, grabbed my guitar and the video camera, and I stood under the sign to sing the first verse of a familiar song while Sue filmed. If I hadn’t lost the feeling in my fingers I might have played the whole song.