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The Highway to Hell…
I cannot prove it, but I believe the highway to Hell is an east-west artery in the heart of Dallas/Ft Worth, a sadistic stretch of life-draining asphalt, innocently named Hwy 183.
Along the stretch of 183 that separates my home from my office, is a cross-street aptly named Industrial Blvd. I intend to turn that into a song, a poem, a sketch or all three someday.
It is ironic or something like ironic that the other nickname for “Industrial Blvd” is “FM (farm-to-market) 157”. There was a time that I remember well when the south end of 157 cut through farmland, past pig styes, cattle, and hayfields.