Nothing says small-town, Norman Rockwell America and down-home humanistic values like corporate chain stores and the constant howl of traffic. Welcome to hell, which in this instance is Aztec, New Mexico. I crashed here last night and I’m still hanging around, sitting in a McDonald’s and grappling with wifi speeds that are slower than a horse trader’s mule. Massive parking lots, too much light, 24-hour gas stations, noise, corporate signage, limited incomes and a sense of being inside a minimum-security prison. If I was forced to live here I would become an opioid addict in less than a month.
