I drove to Birminghan. I stopped at a Buc-ee's and a Bass Pro Shops caught my eye. I really only knew it from seeing its logo on hats, and the fact that my Middlebury roommate had a flannel from there which I liked.

And you know, I could use a new flannel.

It was far grander than I expected. The entrance was a three-story log cabin, and inside were featured an acre of cheap outdoor clothing and fishing gear as well as an indoor life-size log cabin with waterfall and wildlife.

I didn't buy any clothing because I would have to lug it all the way home. But they also sold old-fashioned candys, many of which I recognized but had never tried. I picked up one. Then two. Then six. Most were just OK, but the Charleston Chew was really good.

Next I drove through downtown Birmingham, and it was completely empty. Not a soul for blocks, even as I passed towers with room for many thousands.

Then I set off to a Barnes and Noble in the suburbs. The initially empty freeway gradually filled with cars, and by the time I had arrived, the town felt normal. I stopped at a Cracker Barrel for lunch. Then browsed books and loafed until the evening.

At the truck stop I met a friendly man, probably a truck driver, with a very strong southern accent.

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