Nothing thrilled me more as a child than seeing a night sky illuminated by a neon Indian. On long road trips across the country, driving into a neon-lit town was the equivalent of a pre-Disneyland “E” ride. We always chose the motel we would stay at based on whichever one had the most glorious illuminated sign.

Years later I attempted to do the same thing on a trip along Route 66. When I got to Albuquerque, I picked out one of the motels along the side of the road. But the noise of the trucks rumbling by all night long resulted in a sleepless night.

I quickly let that fantasy die. You might get your kicks on Route 66, but not a good night’s sleep.