What you might see if you stopped at a Dairy Queen near Markle, Indiana
on a Saturday afternoon.
You might see a little snow flurry going on, with the wind whipping the snow around you.
You might see a dead coyote on a little platform on the back of a pickup truck.
You might see two tables full of camouflaged hunters, killers of the said coyote (I asked).
You might see a gentleman having lunch with a nun.
You might see a DQ working staring worriedly at the snow, so worriedly he delays in taking your order, and apologizes. He is concerned about a report that Indy is having a snowstorm, it's coming from the south, and there have been 400 slide-offs that morning (all gross exaggerations, as it turns out).
You might see a senior citizen couple having lunch, on their way home from Indy, after having watched their granddaughter play for IU in the Big Ten conference tournament.
You might see three teenagers at the pop machine making "suicides" -- all the kinds of pop mixed together.
You might see the strange and wonderful mix of people that make up Indiana, and wonder if anyone appreciates the moment. Besides me.