I'm alright.
I live here in Weatherford, which is in Parker County in the north of Texas, and One of my favorite things about Parker County is the roads.
And when you drive or walk these roads, you become part of the road and its history.
Maps are useful, of course.
Who doesn't love a good map? I once had a map of Weatherford made that looks like some old-timey adventure map and it has all the places that me and Diane went to.
It looks like one of Mr. Frodo's maps, but it's framed and it's hanging in our hallway.
Anyway, maps might tell you where a road begins and where it ends and how to get from Grapevine to Mineral Wells, but Roads tell you a lot more than that.
They aren't just for driving on.
Roads can tell you who's trying to get somewhere fast, and who's got nowhere in particular to be, and who's avoiding someone, who's heading home with bad news, and who forgot milk and has to turn around before supper.
You got I-20 carrying folks back and forth between Fort Worth and Abilene and Dallas and wherever they're coming from or going to.
Most folks don't really notice Weatherford until the traffic slows near all of its exits.
And to be clear, for some godforsaken reason, I-20 traffic always slows down right around our hometown and picks up again right afterward despite there being absolutely no reason for doing so.
But since people are slowing down, they suddenly start looking around for gas or a bathroom or a Whataburger where they can start to complain about the traffic.
Listen, we can complain about the traffic, but if you're from California just passing through, spare us your yapping.
I've been to California, and as the Lord said, take the plank out of your own eye before you complain about Weatherford's traffic.
Main Street runs the length of town, but no one calls it Main Street.
On the north side of the courthouse, it's North Main, and below the courthouse, it's South Main.
They went their separate ways, and now they're like an old couple that are still connected but don't seem to like each other anymore.
North Maine has old buildings and coffee shops and boutiques and lawyers' offices and tourist stuff.
South Maine stretches further and takes you past the businesses that have been there forever and shops that look like they might be gone by Christmas.
I'm alright.
I live here in Weatherford, which is in Parker County in the north of Texas, and One of my favorite things about Parker County is the roads.
And when you drive or walk these roads, you become part of the road and its history.
Maps are useful, of course.
Who doesn't love a good map? I once had a map of Weatherford made that looks like some old-timey adventure map and it has all the places that me and Diane went to.
It looks like one of Mr. Frodo's maps, but it's framed and it's hanging in our hallway.
Anyway, maps might tell you where a road begins and where it ends and how to get from Grapevine to Mineral Wells, but Roads tell you a lot more than that.
They aren't just for driving on.
Roads can tell you who's trying to get somewhere fast, and who's got nowhere in particular to be, and who's avoiding someone, who's heading home with bad news, and who forgot milk and has to turn around before supper.
You got I-20 carrying folks back and forth between Fort Worth and Abilene and Dallas and wherever they're coming from or going to.
Most folks don't really notice Weatherford until the traffic slows near all of its exits.
And to be clear, for some godforsaken reason, I-20 traffic always slows down right around our hometown and picks up again right afterward despite there being absolutely no reason for doing so.
But since people are slowing down, they suddenly start looking around for gas or a bathroom or a Whataburger where they can start to complain about the traffic.
Listen, we can complain about the traffic, but if you're from California just passing through, spare us your yapping.
I've been to California, and as the Lord said, take the plank out of your own eye before you complain about Weatherford's traffic.
Main Street runs the length of town, but no one calls it Main Street.
On the north side of the courthouse, it's North Main, and below the courthouse, it's South Main.
They went their separate ways, and now they're like an old couple that are still connected but don't seem to like each other anymore.
North Maine has old buildings and coffee shops and boutiques and lawyers' offices and tourist stuff.
South Maine stretches further and takes you past the businesses that have been there forever and shops that look like they might be gone by Christmas.
The rest of this transcript — segmented and speaker-labeled, so you land on the exact moment something was said
Search every transcript — by keyword, by phrase, or by meaning, across every show Radar indexes
Trends — what is surging across podcasts, measured against its own baseline
Alerts — when a name you follow appears in a newly indexed episode
No account is needed to search Radar.