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Marty was taking a motorcycle road trip he’d had on his bucket list for a long time—following old Route 66. On the way to the Route 66 Interpretive Center in Chandler, Oklahoma he somehow got turned around and was lost. Even farms are few and far between in that part of the country, but eventually he spotted a farmhouse.
He parked and knocked on the door. A white-haired old woman stood behind the screen door and stared at him.
“Do you know the way to Chandler,” he asked.
“No, sorry, the farthest I get these days is the church and the little store down the road.”
Marty got on his bike and was headed out the driveway when he saw the old lady waving her arms and hollering. He turned around and rode back.
“I asked my husband,” said the lady, gasping for breath.
“What did he say?”
“He doesn’t know either.”