Throwback Thursday: 08/04/14, Salt Lake City —> Kanab

I’m always endlessly endeared by those classic 50’s diners that pop up in the middle of nowhere, in infinite seeming deserts and landscapes which make you feel so unbelievably free as an individual human being, bound to nothing but your own spirit and needs (and those traveling with you, I guess. And your gas tank). I’m overwhelmed by the feeling that there are places you cannot direct anyone to or locate anyone from, where you simply are and other people, long gone or still somewhere in the world, have simply been.
And every hundred, maybe thousand miles there are these diners, looking timeless, filled with all kinds of people, warm-hearted staff (my question is, where do all those people even live?) who treat you with delicious homemade food, lightly said courtesies and an honest smile. When they “wow” at the trip you’re doing and wish you a great vacation and a safe trip, I know they mean it, and I don’t ever want to forget all those kind people.
Side note, I am not intoxicated, despite my philosophical tone. I was on vacation, which is basically the same.
Love,
Rosy Smith