Swami, how I love ya, how I love ya: Fairfield, Iowa's Maharishi University of Management

Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in the 1960s

Guru-ga-joob: The Beatles and the Maharishi in 1967

George Harrison remained a lifelong devotee of Transcendental Meditation, and as recently as 2009, Paul and Ringo did a benefit concert for David Lynch's TM foundation.

One of Maharishi University of Management's Om Domes (I made up that name...they don't really call it that).

You might not think a small, bucolic, great plains town would be the location of a college devoted to the teachings of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, the swami the Beatles had as their spiritual advisor back in the '60s, but you'd be chanting the wrong mantra, my friend, because, sure enough, Fairfield, Iowa is the home of the Maharishi University of Management (MUM). Originally conceived by Transcendental Meditation teachers and located in California, the University expanded drastically in 1973 when they bought the 272-acre campus of the recently out-of-business Parsons College, going so far as to demolish some historically significant buildings and erecting new ones using the architectural principals of Maharishi Sthapatya Veda. The campus' most distinctive structures are its twin, gold-topped domes for meditation: the Maharishi Pantanjali Golden Dome of Pure Knowledge for men and the Bagambhrini Golden Dome for women, where students are required to meditate and also learn principles of Yogic Flying (and they don't mean how to get a cartoon bear into an airplane). Despite the exotic themes, this is still an accredited college offering majors in Business, Computer Science, Literature and Art, and they've got a heck of a golf team, too. The food sounds good, too, if all-organic vegetarian fare is what you like. Watch out for the dress code, though, guys, because beards are only allowed for medical or religious reasons.

Sure, there are lots of great colleges out there, but where else can you arrive without traveling, see all without looking and do all without doing while earning a Communications or Physiology degree? Maharishi U: your Om away from home.

Long, long on retro laughs: Lucy and Desi in "The Long, Long Trailer"

Lucille Ball would have turned 100 the other day and Turner Classic Movies, the best channel on TV, showed an absolute delight for eccentric roadside fans, "The Long, Long Trailer" in her honor. We'd seen it before, but this time marvelled and what a great, retro roadtrip of a flick it is. If you like the 1950s, "TLLT" has got it all: big cars (a gorgeous yellow 1953 Mercury Monterey convertible), great trailers (the 1953 40-foot yellow two-tone New Moon), great duds, fabulous scenery, and best of all, Desi Arnaz. For my money, Desi was always much funnier than Lucy, with his exaggerated expressions and reactions. Made on their hiatus from "I Love Lucy" in 1954 and directed by notable auteur Vincente Minelli, "TLLT" is basically Lucy and Ricky Ricardo (they're Tacy and Nicky Collini here) in a beautiful technicolor feature-length comedy. Newly married and at Tacy's insistence, a reluctant Nicky agrees to buy a trailer home that's too expensive, too big, too everything. They have to travel cross-country and encounter one disaster after another, including city traffic, nosy trailer park neighbors, getting stuck in the mud, and smashing up Tacy's relatives' house. Worst of all, Nicky has to drive the monstrosity up a treacherous winding Colorado mountain road. Lucy does her usual slapstick, but, really, it's all about Desi suffering. His eyes bulge, he mops his brow nervously, gets covered in muck and rain, and has post traumatic stress disorder-like flashbacks ("TRAILER BRAKE FIRST! TRAILER BREAK FIRST! AHHHHGGHH!!"). They did some gorgeous filming in Yosemite National Park and that nerve-racking mountain road scene was filmed on Mount Whitney in the Sierra Nevada mountains. And I think the movie is actually much funnier than "I Love Lucy" and it's in color!

So, if you're a fan of both Desilu and roadtrips like we are, watch out for "The Long, Long Trailer" on TCM or get it from Netflix. Otherwise, you'll have some splainin' to do.

How I met your Mother Road: Route 66 in Williams, Arizona

When we visited the Grand Canyon last May, we stayed in nearby Williams, Arizona on the road all other roads aspire to be, Route 66. You don't have to be an eccentric roadside attraction fan to appreciate how awesome Route 66 is, and Williams has some outstanding examples of Mother Road architecture. There was some glorious early evening sun when we were there, causing yesteryear's storefronts, motels and restaurants to look even more western and melancholy. I'd love to spend a year traveling up and down 66 (you listening, Powerball?). Won't you get hip to this timely tip: when you make that California trip, get your kicks on Route 66.

Spinning in their grave

RIP, Kenneth and Edith.

Cowboy up: West Wendover, Nevada's Wendover Will

This awesome photo of Will at night was shot by Dave Beedon.

This is Will in front of the Stateline casino, circa 1960. The photo comes from the great website Frank Busca's Route40.net .

Here's Will's brother, Vegas Vic.

In 1952, a Mr. William Smith opened a casino in the small northern Nevada-Utah border town of West Wendover called the Stateline. He had the good taste to commission a Mr. Pat Denner, the designer of Las Vegas' famous Vegas Vic neon cowboy, to adorn his gambling parlor with a similar cowpuncher to give everybody a friendly "Howdy, pardners!" as they drove by and nudge them in the direction of his wagering temple. And thus Wendover Will, named for both the town and Mr. Smith, was created, and Mr. Denner made him an even taller galoot (63 feet) than his older brother, earning him the distinction of the World's Largest Mechanical Cowboy from the Guinness Book. Both of Will's arms waved, his eye winked, his cigarette flicked, and his 1,184 feet of neon tubing flashed day in and day out until 2002, when the Stateline changed ownership and Will was kindly donated to the town, who made him their good-Will ambassador and moved him to an even better location and gave him a lavish restoration. His white hat, yellow bandanna, red shirt, Levis, cowboy boots, and six-gun gleamed in the hot midday Nevada sun when we passed through town last spring, but, alas, we weren't able to stick around and see him all lit up and in motion after dark. If anyone out there has a video of Will at night, we'd love to add it here.

It's encouraging when a treasure like Will is recognized for the neon-tastic icon he is and a town revels in his awesomeness. Kudos to West Wendover for appreciating where there's a Will, there's a he-went-that-a-way. Happy trails to you.

Mining for irony in colorful Colorado

Well, brown's a color too, you know.

Whoa, Nellie! Cheyenne, Wyoming's Cowgirls of the West Museum

Cowgirl up.

Ben, a museum volunteer, tells of his family's Western cowgirl pride.

How come they don't make TV lamps any more?

Check out the great names on this wallpaper: Jolene, Emmylou, Ginny, Kay, Ruby, Jesse, Red, Grace, Rosa, Nell and Ma.

Berva Dawn Sorenson rocks a pair of Wrangler Blue Bells.

If the definition of a cowboy is guts and a horse, then the definition of a cowgirl should be guts, a horse and a skirt. There's an ace-high spot in the wild and wooly western town of Cheyenne, Wyoming that pays tribute just such a gal that's as fine as cream gravy...the Cowgirls of the West Museum. In it, you'll find a heapin' helping of artifacts that pay tribute to the women of the American west. At a time when a woman simply sitting on a horse could be seen as scandalous, these gals were rootin', tootin', ropin' and shootin'. There's Bonnie Gray and her horse King Tut, jumping over convertible motor cars (with passengers!) in 1925. There's Elouise Fox Hastings, who ran away from home when she was 14 and joined the Irwin Bros. Wild West Show as a trick rider. There's Prairie Rose Henderson, who, in 1911, was awarded the title of world's champion bronc rider and was known as the queen of rodeo fashion. And there's Tad Lucas, the First Lady of Rodeo and the undisputed world trick rider from 1925-33. Not a namby-pamby in the bunch. But wait, pardners, there's more. They've got buckles, saddles, costumes, hats, and spurs that go jingle jangle jingle. And you can get in to see the whole shooting match for free, donations accepted kindly. So the next time you find yourself in Cheyenne, God willing and if the creek don't rise, mosey on over the Cowgirl Museum. Not to do so would be plumb loco.