First one to say, "now that's a big hole," wins.

Chapter 2 of "Okie's are everywhere," occurred at the ticket booth for the Meteor Crater attraction. S was wearing her "Oklahoma - Native America" button up long sleeve while turning over our $30 entrance fee to the nice lady in the ticket booth.

Eyeing the embroidery on her blouse, she cheerfully queried, "Where in Oklahoma are y'all from?"

You guessed it, she was from Enid and after a few minutes of holding up the line, it turns out we knew some people in common.

Tickets in hand, we walked a few steps to yet another uniformed Meteor Crater employee, only to find that he was born in Lawton and still had family back there.

Add these two to the desk clerk at the Blue Swallow Motel whose son lived in OKC, the diner at Joe and Aggie's whose Mom lived in Hugo and the owner of the Rainbow Rock Shop that spoke fondly of time he spends in Hobert visiting friends, and you've got our states panhandled shadow stretching way beyond it's odd-shaped border.

Wifey and I enjoyed "experiencing the impact" at the "world's first proven and best-preserved impact site on earth." The guided tour/hike along the rim was interesting, I managed to say "...now that's a big hole," almost 12 times in a non-sarcastic tone and we found ourselves invigorated by the 64 degree, slightly breezy Arizona autumn atmosphere.

A short road trip after climbing down off the crater rim found us pulling curbside at Flagstaff's historic Monte Vista hotel. A mere 1-block north of Route 66 in Flagstaff's historic downtown, the MV is purportedly one of Arizona's most haunted hotels.

At check-in, S innocently asked the desk clerk if the room we were staying in was haunted, to which she replied, "oh, well yes it is...is that all right?"

Okay, so the fact that she readily admitted the room was haunted was fun enough, but the matter-of-fact tone in which she admitted it was either a well-rehearsed marketing strategy or a spooky reality check that the desk clerks at a haunted hotel must deal with for every patron.

After checking in and dropping our bags in our second story corner room known as the Zane Grey suite (he apparently stayed in this room on several occasions), we took to the streets and alleyways of the historic district, meeting yet more Okie-expatriots from Edmond (antique and collectible shop), and Norman (gift boutique), taking in some iced lattes from a sidewalk vendor, and finding a 50's era Zane Grey novel in a used book store for my room-themed bedtime reading tonight.


We found a tasty Thai joint for a massive meal of coconut/lemon grass soup and spicy eggplant then retired to watch replays of the Presidential Debate.

So here I sit, blogging wirelessly from the Zane Gray room waiting for a knock at the door.

A knock at the door?

Before reading any further, click here, scroll down and read about "The Phantom Bellboy."

The number on our door is 2 - 1 - 0.

"Room service..."