Indianapolis proper: It's not a bad downtown, Bill reports. Not good enough to merit a stop this time, though.

Welcome to the heartland: We have a lot of pictures like this.

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign: One of our favorites.

What else is there? We tried to go to this, one of many, many Steak 'n' Shake outlets on this stretch, but it looked a little too time-consuming.

God's country: That there is one big cross.

Hello, St. Louis: An early glimpse of the Gateway Arch, with a casino in East St. Louis, Ill., in the foreground.

Landing strip: Our hotel was in Laclede's Landing, the restored old waterfront neighborhood that is St. Louis's downtown entertainment district.

This Bud's for you: St. Louis is the home of Anheuser-Busch, and this Laclede's Landing pub wears its sign proudly.

These pictures don't take themselves: JD at work.

Very subtle: Missouri is the Show Me State, and Show Me's is a shameless Hooter's rip-off. Bill insisted on having lunch there, of course.

For the bridge crowd: Downtown entertainment districts and parking profiteers go hand in hand. (Three bucks sounds pretty good to a couple of Washingtonians, though.)

The hotel: It's hard to go too wrong with an Embassy Suites.

Old paint: A very cool old advertisement on a Laclede's Landing building.

One-stop tourism: The Arch from the Landing.

Plotting: JD at St. Louis's sprawling Calvary Cemetery, where many of her Irish forebears rest in peace..

The Explorer: JD's mom's vehicle made for comfortable if gas-guzzling touring.

True grit: We saw some evidence of the seediness that St. Louis became known for as it lost a large chunk of its population over the past half-century . . .

. . . but we also saw livable in-town neighborhoods with distinct identities and an admirable sense of history. For instance, streetlamps were festooned with the name of the neighborhood and the block number, a nifty touch that unfortunately we didn't get any pictures of.

Arch, smarch! St. Louis's real claim to fame is Ted Drewes frozen custard. Order a "concerete" and you get that flawless vanilla mixed with your choice of dozens of flavorings and pulverized candy bars in milkshake form. Good luck "drinking" a concrete with a straw, though. (Hey, who's the bald guy?)

It's a sign: Mmm, pancakes and martinis! In another week or so Bill would become Uncle Bill as sister Jenn gave birth to Anthony Jr.

A casino! And right outside our hotel! What luck!

A boat! Why, it's a boat and a casino! Outside of Nevada, Atlantic City and a few other places, America seems to think gambling is OK only if it's done on a boat or on an Indian reservation. The boats, in many cases, aren't even capable of sailing. And we, on this night, weren't capable of winning.

Dinner time: A brewpub in Laclede's Landing.

Magic-beer theory: What was in that lager? Somehow crayons met tablecloth in a re-creation of the events of Nov. 22, 1963, in Dallas's Dealey Plaza.