The State of Asphalt

This one’s obscure, coming to me “out of the blue” while on a walk. It’s fictional but based on actual events.

He’s been paying attention to the road lately. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say he’s been paying better attention to the road lately.

And it has nothing to do with driving. Let it be known (and he’d want us to tell you), he’s a careful, conscientious motorist; always has been. Clean driving record through and through. Oh, maybe a few fender-benders throughout his long history … but none his fault.

And, of course, there was the unfortunate speeding ticket in a small town back in’83, which to this day, he won’t discuss. But that’s a story for another day.

Lately, he’s been walking; needs to stay healthy as he ages, or so his doctor says. And on his walks, he’s noticed something in the streets around his neighborhood; specifically, in the way the pavement cracks as it ages.

With increasing regularity, he’s finding cracked pavement in the shape of the state of South Carolina. Now, these aren’t geographically accurate recreations, but they’re close enough––and occurring with enough frequency––that he’s thinking maybe there’s something more … something bigger … at play.

Now, he’s not equating this “phenomenon” with the folks who find Jesus’ image in potato chips or crusts of sourdough bread. Though he thinks he once saw the silhouette of Mickey Mouse in an oil stain in the neighbor’s driveway … it got him thinking, let me tell you. And there was also the time he saw Nixon’s face in a cumulus cloud not three months before the Watergate fiasco. (Coincidence?)

It’s just … odd (his word). Because he doesn’t see other states represented in his local roads, though he admits after the first five or six South Carolinas, he wasn’t really looking for Vermonts, or Montanas, Colorados or Missouris. He fixated on South Carolina, the “Palmetto State,” Capital: Columbia. Official dance? The Shag. Site of the first battle of the Civil War. State bird: the Carolina Wren. Home to the oldest public university in the U.S. (Did we mention he’s fixated?)

He’d want you to know that, although others maybe argue the point, this is not an obsession; he’s just curious … and as a retired mid-manager of a mid-sized manufacturing company in the Midwest, he has time on his hands (“more than enough” according to his wife) for curiosity and exploring things like cracks in the road ... and why garbage pickup isn't more consistent. ("One week they come at 8 a.m., other times it's 3 p.m.")

Is it coincidence, this South Carolina asphalt issue? Maybe. But based on the frequency with which he sees these “reasonable facsimiles” of The Palmetto State in cracked pavement, he’s thinking it’s a common issue with asphalt as it ages.

Now, he has people in his life who could address just such a question, “Why do so many cracks in the asphalt look like South Carolina,” and after cocking their heads like dogs who just heard a high-pitched noise, they’d likely provide a logical answer … or tell him to find something else to be curious about.

But just yesterday, as the temperature rose and the sun shone, making it a perfect February day for a walk, he saw four South Carolinas in less than 30 minutes … FOUR!

“Now, c’mon,” he said to himself, “that can’t be coincidence. Something bigger is afoot.”

When he arrived home, after placing his jacket and hat on the hook where it’s lived for … well, forever, he told his wife about it. He thought she should know “just in case.”

“Just in case what?” was her reply. He surmised she had little interest. (He was right.) “But four, in 30 minutes? And” he continued long after she had left the room to do … well, anything but listen to his yammering, “that’s not even CLOSE to the most I’ve seen. One day, I saw nine … NINE!”

Now, this “thing” that’s going on doesn’t bother him, not like the thought that aliens may someday abduct him and use him for “who knows what.” It’s just that he’s a curious person, and this one is a real head scratcher (again, his words). And he’s wondering if others need to know. Maybe his neighbors ... the village road crew ... the authorities?

Not one to leap headlong into the rabbit hole that is the Internet (he likes good ol’ fashioned research and personal discourse to suss out the issues of the day), he’ll likely head to the library to study the properties and behaviors of asphalt. He’ll also ask a civil engineer friend of his to see if there’s anything to this.

And don’t be surprised if he doesn’t check out a few books on South Carolina … just in case.

Because when it comes to getting answers to the questions of the day, there are no stones too small or insignificant to leave unturned.

© 2026 David R. Haznaw