Geez, where to begin with this one? Sandy and I just returned from the Hard Rock Casino in Tulsa. I just thought that Holcomb, Kansas was a sad place. One of the things I’ve always been most proud of is that I had never gone to a Hard Rock Cafe, and now I feel more than a bit sullied. The concept of rock as a potentially revolutionary force reduced to selling cheese fries or rotations on the slot machine is of course troubling. The only place open to eat was Toby Keith’s restaurant, which I had the same response that Giamatti did in Sideways when faced with the prospect of drinking the merlot. Anyone who knows me is well aware of my steadfast belief that Toby Keith gives new depth and dimension to the word douchebaggery. Still, we had to eat something. Now, to be fair, the meal was actually quite good, even if Toby Keith is a complete hypocritical war-mongering cretin. And certainly it’s not his attacks on free speech that resulted in us using having to drink 3.2 beer. And the use of a video roulette wheel as compared to an actual physical one was probably not caused by the stifling imbecility of his songs. Still, it was another chapter is our exploration of America, even if an enervatingly sad and painfully artificial one. Oh, and Sandy lost all of his $5 while I walked away with $2.65 (I hit the cash out button by mistake).