Just some stuff that's been on my mind on the road...
I use the made-up term "foofy" a lot. It's my word for those over-the-top kinds of people and products, you know the type. You're really hungry, say, and you sit down to a restaurant meal, and it's one of those places that plops down really big plates with tiny portions of food in the middle, and then presents you with a huge bill. Foofy people wear things like $1000 cashmere socks. You get the idea.
I've been doing so much driving lately, in places I haven't really visited before. While you obviously can't know everything about a place simply by driving through it, you can bet your assessments aren't far off if you know what to look for.
Now aside from the countless McMansions that pop up on the landscape like so many photocopies, with lawns the size of Cleveland, there are some signs that you're in a foofy town. Foofy is Dunkin' Donuts is replaced by something like "Tad's Pasty Emporium". There's not an "Ace Hardware" within miles (what ever would we purchase there, Lovey?); gas stations take on such names as "Crescent Automotive and Fuel Center". (We'll not have any of those ExxonMobil rabscallions, darling!)
Foofy is citizens strolling "Main Street" instead of strip malls, browsing at baby "boutiques" and shops with such names as "Martha's Fine Antiques". Foofy is $300 "organic" shopping bags on the arm of every local Soccer Mom (must go "green", my Precious). Foofy means merely speaking the names "Walmart" or "Target" causing you to be branded a veritable social pariah.
Foofy would never tolerate an eatery called a "Shack" unless the menu features such things as chocolate-covered escargot during the US Open, because then it's trendy, My Sweet. Foofy towns don't require "Convenience Stores" (the Help takes care of that, Bluebell). You can almost smell the fine Corinthian leather, Butterfly, as you cruise among automobiles whose collective value rivals the Gross National Product.
The closest thing you'll find to BBQ here, Muffy, is "finely grilled Tilapia". But don't worry too much about Foofy places like this, my Shiny Brass Monkey. Most of us won't spend much time here.
Our kind isn't welcome, Cookiepuss.