Recognizing the importance of the food pyramid to your health and overall well being is paramount – when you’re under 30. I’m no longer under 30 (HA! HA! there are advantages). Therefore, I’ve created my own cholesterol laden, fat riddled, delicious food pyramid based on a road trip this weekend to the Italian capital of Oklahoma – Krebs (population 2,000+).  I hope my doctor doesn’t see this.

It was the first purely pleasurable road trip I’ve taken in a few months. And when I encircled my arms around the gems I’d purchased at Lovera’s Italian Grocery, this tray resulted.

Had I been asked to choose my last meal before I recently summited my first mountain (Grand Teton), these items would top the list.  I could live off this assortment for the rest of my life.  Well, I’d have to buy more of course…

And wouldn’t this delectable plethora be fun to pair with various soda pop choices from your Arcadia library of soda pop? Talk about overindulgence – yikes!

Components in the SRT food pyramid: Meat – smoked or cured or medium rare grilled over a really hot fire; Cheese – in this case, Scamorza; Grapes (yep, they’re there, in a particular form); Bread; Olives – any kind, but these blue cheese stuffed ones bottled in olive oil, are sublime; Sweets.

Meat, cheese, grapes, bread, olives, sweets – the perfect ingredients for a lovely fall picnic. No inclination for a picnic?!  That’s OKAY. These are the PERFECT ingredients for anything (please no comments about a heart attack – this is meant to be a fun post – age means we’ve learned balance, right?).

Nougat. My first. Definitely, not my last.

Cholesterol?! How DARE that word appear anywhere in this post!

SRT Basic Food Groups – purchased here, Lovera’s Grocery, Krebs, Oklahoma

Pointed elbows and lowered hat bills greet soda pop aficionados at Arcadia Oklahoma’s POPS Soda Ranch on Route 66. While 2 glass floor-to-ceiling walls of the colorful bottles tempt you to pluck and run in order to escape the furor of the refrigerated section at the back, the library shelves are merely for perusal; the bottles are glued-down samples.

On any given day you can vie for over 500 flavors of soda pop imported from all over the world. Take one and ask for a straw on the spot, or load up the 6-pack containers for a picnic later. Or for gifts. Or to create your own soda pop library – one of my quests in life.

If you get inside and decide you need something for your exotic, imported soda pop to wash down, you’re in luck. The grill is open from 10:30 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. and offers nostalgic choices such as an old fashioned cheeseburger basket, grilled cheese sandwich, or a substantial chicken fried steak. Sit at the stainless steel counter for a real blast from the past.

See those 6 packs lined up? Yep, they’re all mine.

Go at night and be greeted by the 66 foot tall pop bottle sculpture complete with a giant straw. Lit by colorful LED lights pulsing through the structure, it’s the perfect prelude to what you’ll find inside.

Located 15 miles west of the Wellston exit off the Turner Turnpike on Rt. 66, you can’t miss the small shop. A white, steel cantilevered canopy extends 100 feet over the gas tanks. It’s unsupported (by design) so there’s no need to worry about side-swiping the posts.

And you don’t have to be a soda pop aficionado to enjoy POPS. Gawkers are welcome too.

For more fun travel and taste bud ideas, check out Wanderfood Wednesdays at Wanderlust & Lipstick.

A beautiful Oklahoma sunset provided the backdrop for my much needed 3 hour road trip this past weekend.

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a voyeur. twisting around the tangle of the plane’s arms and legs to watch. holding my breath with expectation. the wind is a new lover’s touch skimming the wings in tender urgent collision. finger tips of gentle pressure cause indentations to ripple the taut fabric. anticipation reined in with labored patience follows soft, lingering hesitation. tempered desperation. the wheels leave the ground with no announcement. free, the plane strains for the ecstasy of the air. it is the relief of walking onto a quiet veranda from a stuffy room. a bit nauseated from too many people. too much to drink. i can breathe now.

the view from an open cock-pit biplane

Sadly, it’s over — both my ride and the Bartlesville Bi-plane Exposition. After 23 years, the Nat’l Biplane Association voted to discontinue the Expo after the June 2009 event.

For this not-so solo road trip, pack tents, sleeping bags/blankets,  food and camping gear for 17 people (7 kids), guns, ammo and hunting licenses for hunting white tail deer, a 4-wheeler or two, fishing equipment for either flyfishing or not, and clothes that run the winter time gamut from rain gear to 70 humid degrees. Instead of pulling a trailer because the truck won’t hold everything, tow an old 4-drive Toyota Land Cruiser (1981) and shove everything in.  And plan on a ruined tire or two on some gravel road, and getting stuck up to your axle on some patch of bottom land. If you do all this, you’ll have the basic components for a Southeastern Oklahoma Thanksgiving.

Every Thanksgiving is spent in Choctaw County, fishing, hunting, 4 wheeling, stomping around in heavy boots, stepping in cow piles, playing horseshoes, basketball, camping, and eating. We’ve outgrown the house and now have to set up camp to bed everyone down and remove some of the chaos from inside. It’s still a zoo. Everyone seems a little too okay with that.

Betsey, the white 1981 Toyota Land Cruiser was bought on Ebay. My Dad thinks we’re insane. He’s probably right.

Located in Southeastern Oklahoma, Choctaw County is economically poor. You can candy coat that and use words like impoverished, poverty-stricken, etc. but it all means the same thing. According to the US Census data in 2000, it was the most impoverished county in the state based on the percentage of individuals with incomes below the poverty line. Almost one third of the families with children under the age of 18 make an income that puts them below the National poverty line. 10% of the residents have Bachelor’s degrees or higher, less than half the National average. These are simply the economic facts. I was raised there, graduated HS there, and still spend a fair amount of off time there. So I can say these things.

My parents instilled in all of us the need for a college degree. We all managed to get one. That may be the only common directive from our parents we actually acted upon. So 2 of the 3 of us left the county to pursue our dreams. But we come back often, and we bring our children, who love it. And if I could have, I would have raised my own child there. My brother would likely say the same about his children. Economically poor doesn’t translate directly to a less than rich life. There’s a permeating sense the American dream is still alive and well. Of the contentment that can be achieved by hard work, early hours, long days, dirt under your fingernails. Of the honor of living within your means without the pressures of city life and its excesses. Simplicity is still king.  And we honor that simplicity by spending a Thanksgiving anyone would be thankful for.

We fish. And some of us even catch something.

Build rubber band balls

Hang out with the dog on the back of Papa’s truck during feeding time

Practice fast pitch — well only one of us does that

Play barn side football

Get hurt playing barnside football

Pose with Papa while he’s attempting to do daily chores. He has to work especially hard to get anything done.

Gawk at Papa’s trophy room.

Pretend we’re 4-wheeling

Show the world how cattle are really just pets.

Have Thanksgiving dinner in a large workshed.

Take a moment to pose while playing on Papa’s haybales.

Were it not for the haybales, the kids would have absolutely nothing to do. NOT. But they are a fine playground.

And one of us attempts to make art from a lone horseapple left hanging in a Bois’d arc tree. A weak attempt.